• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Dedication
 Jemmy Stubbins; or, The nailor...
 Little Johnny
 Advertising
 Back Cover






Group Title: Illustrations of the law of kindness.
Title: Jemmy Stubbins, or, The nailer boy
CITATION PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00001663/00001
 Material Information
Title: Jemmy Stubbins, or, The nailer boy
Series Title: Illustrations of the law of kindness
Alternate Title: Nailer boy
Physical Description: 35 p., <1> leaf of plates : ill. ; 15 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Burritt, Elihu, 1810-1879 ( Editor )
Howland, S. A ( Southworth Allen ), 1800-1882 ( Publisher )
Publisher: S.A. Howland
Place of Publication: Worcester Mass
Publication Date: 1850
 Subjects
Subject: Humanitarianism -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Charity -- Juvenile literature   ( lcsh )
Social life and customs -- Juvenile literature -- England   ( lcsh )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1850   ( rbgenr )
Publishers' paper bindings (Binding) -- 1850   ( rbbin )
Bldn -- 1850
Genre: Publishers' advertisements   ( rbgenr )
Publishers' paper bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
non-fiction   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Massachusetts -- Worcester
 Notes
General Note: Series edited by Elihu Burritt.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00001663
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002250751
oclc - 14155632
notis - ALK2504

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Frontispiece
        Frontispiece
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
    Title Page
        Page 1
    Dedication
        Page 2
    Jemmy Stubbins; or, The nailor boy
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Second visit to the little nailor
            Page 10
            Page 11
            Page 12
            Page 13
            Page 14
            Page 15
            Page 16
            Page 17
            Page 18
        A budget from the little nailor
            Page 19
            Page 20
            Page 21
            Page 22
            Page 23
            Page 24
            Page 25
            Page 26
            Page 27
            Page 28
    Little Johnny
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
    Advertising
        Page 36
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text
0


ILLUSTRATIONS OF
THE LAW OF KINDNESS,
EDITED BY ELIHU BURRITT.


JEMMY STUBBINS,



OR


THE NAILER


BOY.


WORCESTER, MASS.
PUBLISHED BY S. A. HOWLAND,
143 MAIN STREET.
-1850.








ILLUSTRATIONS OP
THE LAW OF KINDNESS,
EDITED BY ELIHU BURRITT.


JEMMY STUBBINS,


OR


THE NAILER


BOY.


WORCESTER, MASS.
PUBLISHED BY S. A. HOWLAND,
143 MAIN STREET.
1850.


















To the Boys and Girls in America,
Who took the "Little Nailer" of the father-land
from his smithy, and sent him to School for two years
I dedicate this little Book, as an offering of my
affection, and as a souvenir of that loving act of
benevolent sympathy.
ELIHU BURRITT.
Worcester, Mass., March 20, 1850.













JEMMY STUBBINS,

OR

THE NAILER BOY.


Before I left America in 1846, in order to gratify
the wish that had long occupied my heart, of visit-
ing the motherland, I formed for myself a plan of
procedure to which I hoped to be able rigidly to
adhere. I determined that my visit to England
should bring me face to face with the people ; that
I should converse with the artizan in his workshop,
and lifting the lowly door-latches of the poor, should
become intimately acquainted with their life-with
their manners, and it might be, with their hopes
and sorrows.

TUESDAY, JULY 21st, 1846.-After a quiet cosy
breakfast, served up on a little round table for myself
alone, I sat down to test the practicability of the plan
I had formed at home for my peregrinations in Eng-
land:-viz., to write until one, P. M., then to take






4

my staff and travel on, eight or ten miles, to anoth-
er convenient stopping-place for the night. As much
depended upon the success of the experiment, I was
determined to carry the point against the predictions
of my friends. So at it I went, con more. The
house was as quiet as if a profound Sabbath was rest-
ing upon it, and the windows of my airy chamber
looked through the foliage of grave elms down upon
a green valley. I got on swimmingly; and after a
frugal dinner at the little round table, I buckled on
my knapsack with a feeling of self-gratulation in
view of the literary part of my day's work. Hav-
ing paid my bill, and given the lady a copy of my
corn-meal receipts, I resumed my walk toward
W--- *
I was suddenly diverted from my contemplation of
this magnificent scenery, by a fall of heavy rain
drops, as the prelude of an impending shower. See-
ing a gate open, and hearing a familiar clicking be-
hind the hedge, I stepped through into a little black-
smith's shop, about as large an American-smoke-
house for curing bacon. The first object that my
eyes rested on, was a full-grown man nine years of
age, and nearly three feet high, perched upon a
stone of half that height, to raise his breast to the
level of his father's anvil, at which he. was at work,
with all the vigor of his little short arms, making
nails. I say, a full-grotwn man; for I fear he can
never grow any larger, physically or mentally. As









1 put my hand on his shoulders in a familiar way,
to make myself at home with him, and to remove
the timidity with which my sudden appearance seem-
ed to inspire him, by a pleasant word or two of
greeting, his flesh felt case-hardened into all the
induration of toiling manhood, and as unsusceptible
of growth as the anvil block. Fixed manhood had
set in upon him in the greenness of his youth and
there he was, by his father's side, a stinted, prema-
ture man with his childhood cut off; with no space
to grow in between the cradle and the anvil-block;
chased, as soon as he could stand on his little
legs, from the hearth-stone to the forge-stone, by iron
necessity, that would not let him stop long enough
to pick up a letter of the English alphabet on the way.
0, Lord John Russell! think of this. Of this En-
glishman's son, placed by his mother, scarcely wean-
ed, on a high, cold stone, barefooted, before the an-
vil; there to harden, sear, and blister his young
hands by heating and hammering ragged nailrods,
for the sustenance those breasts can no longer supply!
Lord 'John! look at those nails, as they lie hissing
on the block. Know you their meaning, use and lan-
guage ? Please your lordship, let me tell you-I
have made nails many a day and many a night-
they are iron exclamation points, which this unlettered,
dwarfed boy is unconsciously arraying against you,
against the British government, and the government
of British literature, for cutting him off without a







6

letter of the English alphabet, when printing is
done by steam; for incarcerating him for no sin on
his parents' side, but poverty, in a dark, six-by-
eight prison of hard labor, a youthless being-think
of it!-an infant hardened, almost in its mother's
arms, into a man, by toil that bows the sturdiest
of the world's laborers who come to manhood through
the intervening years of childhood 1
The boy's father was at work with his back to-
ward me, when I entered. At my first word of salu-
tation to the lad, he turned around and accosted me
a little bashfully, as if unaccustomed to the sight of
strangers in that place, or reluctant to let them into
the scene and secret of his poverty. I sat down upon
one end of his nail-bench, and told him I was an
American blacksmith by trade, and that I had come
in to see how he got on in the world; whether he was
earning pretty good wages at his business, so that
he could live comfortably, and send his children
to school. As I said this, I glanced inquiringly to-
ward the boy, who was looking steadily at me from
his stone stool by the anvil. Two or three little
crock-faced girls, from two to five years of age, had
stolen in timidly, and a couple of young, frightened
eyes were peering over the door-sill at me. The
poor Englishman-he was as much an Englishman
as the Duke of Wellington-looked at-his bushy-head-
ed, barefooted children, and said softly, with a melan-
choly shake of the head, that the times were rather







7

hard with him. It troubled his heart, and many hours
of the night he had been kept awake by the thought
of it, that he could not send his children to school,
nor teach them himself to read. They were good
children, he said, with a moist yearning in his eyes;
they were all the wealth he had, and he loved them
the more, the harder he had to work for them. The
poorest part of the poverty that was on him, was that
he could not give his children the letters. They
were good children, for all the crock of the shop
was on their faces, and their fingers were bent like
eagle's claws with handling nails. He had been a poor
man all his days, and he knew his children would
be poor all their days, and poorer than he, if the
nail business should continue to grow worse. If he
could only give them the letters, it would make them
the like of rich; for then they could read the Testa-
ment. He could read the Testament a little, for
he had learned the letters by the forge-light. It
was a good book, was the Testament; and he was
sure it was made for nailers and such like. It helped
him wonderfully when the loaf was small on his table.
He had but little time to read it when the sun was up,
and it took him long to read a little, for he learned
the letters when he was old. But he laid it beside
his dish at dinner time, and fed his heart with it,
while his children were eating the bread that fell
to his share. And when he had spelt out a line of
the shortest words, he read them aloud, and his el-







8

,dest boy-the one on the block there-could say
several whole verses he had learned in this way.
It was a great comfort to him, to think that James
could take into his heart so many verses of the Test-
ament which he could not read. He intended to
teach all his children in this way. It was all he
could do for them; and this he had to do at meal-
times; for all the other hours he had to be at the an-
vil. The nailing business was growing harder, he was
growing old, and his family large. He had to work
from four o'clock in the morning till ten o'clock at
night, to earn eighteen-pence. His wages averaged
only about seven shillings a week; and there were five
of them in the family to live on what they could
earn. It was hard to make up the loss of an hour.
Not one of their hands, however little, could be
spared. Jemmy was going on nine years of age, and
a helpful lad he was; and the poor man looked at him
doatingly. Jemmy could work off a thousand nails
a day, of the smallest size. The rent of their little
shop, tenement and garden, was five pounds a year;
and a few pennies earned by the youngest of them
were of great account.
But, continued the blacksmith, speaking cheerily,
I am not the one that ought to complain. Many is
the man that has a harder lot of it than I, among the
nailers along this hill and in the valley. My neigh-
bor in the next door could tell you something about
labor you never have heard the like of in your








country. He is an older man than I, and there are
seven of them in his family; and, for all that, he has
no boy like Jemmy here to help him. Some of his
little girls are sickly, and their mother is not over
strong, and it all comes on him. He is an oldish man,
as I was saying, yet he not only works eighteen
hours every day at his forge, but every Friday in the
year he oorks all night long, and never lays off his
clothes till late of Saturday night. A good neighbor
is John Stubbins, and the only man just in our
neighborhood who can read the newspaper. It is not
often he gets a newspaper; for it is not the like of us
that can have newspapers and bread too at the
same time in our houses. But now and then he
begs an old one, partly torn, at the baker's, and reads
it to us of a Sunday night. So once in two or three
weeks, we hear something of what is going on in the
world-something about Corn Laws, and the Duke
of Wellington, and Oregon, and India, and Ireland,
and other parts of England. We heard tell a while
ago that the poor people would not have to make so
many nails for a loaf of bread much longer, because
Sir Robert Peel and some other men were going to
take off the port-locks and other taxes, and let us buy
bread of them that could sell it the cheapest. When
we heard this talked of, without knowing the truth
of it, John Stubbins took a penny and went to the
White Hart and bought a drink of beer, and then
the landlady let him look into the newspaper which






10

she keeps for her customers. When he came back,
he told us a good deal of what was going on, and said
he was sure the times would be better one of these
days.
Here he was interrupted by John Stubbins himself,
who, hearing some strange voices mingling in earnest
conversation in the other end of the building, came
round to see who was there. With the entrance of
this John Stubbins, I must turn over another leaf
of my journal.




SECOND VISIT TO THE LITTLE NAILER.
The interest created in the United States by the
above account of my first meeting with Josiah, en-
couraged me to propose that the children of America
should, by a subscription of a half dime each, con-
tribute as much money as would clothe and educate
him for a year. The proposition met with a cordial
response, and one hundred dollars were soon col-
lected for this purpose.
At the time I first threw out the proposition in
regard to the education of the little Nailer, I hardly
believed that they could so abolish space and dry
up the ocean intervening between them and such a
young sufferer, as they have done. Bless your
hearts, children, I reckoned you would have a merry







11

time of it about Christmas, and have your pockets
filled with all sorts of nice things, that would come by
way of affectionate remembrance from grand-papa
down to the fourth cousin; and you would bring to
mind lots of boys and girls that had no one to give
them a picture-book as large as a cent, and who
conld'nt read it if they had one. I thought this would
be a good time to put in a word for The Little
Nailer;" and so I threw out the thought, very hope-
fully, that you should all contribute something from
your Christmas presents and make the little fellow a
Christmas gift of a year's schooling. I suggested
this idea between doubt and hope. I did not know
how it would strike you. I did not know but some
of you might think that the great ocean was too wide
to be crossed by your little charities; that others
might say, He is only an English boy--he doesn't
belong to our family circle-let him alone.' And so
I waited anxiously to hear from you; for I was sure
you would talk it over among yourselves in the
" School-room," and on the way home, and by the
fireside. Well, after waiting a few weeks, the En-
glish steamer came in from Boston, and brought me
a letter from Ezekiel; and the happiest thing in it
was, that the boys and girls of Our School Room"
had made no more of the Atlantic Ocean than if it
had been a mud-puddle, which they could step across
to give a helping hand to a lad who was down and
couldn't get up alone. It made my heart get up in







12
my mouth and try to talk instead of my tongue,
when I read to some of my friends here what you had
done for the little Nailer; when I told them to
read for themselves and see that your sympathies
knew nothing about any geography, any more than
if the science of natural divisions had never been
discovered, or if oceans, seas, rivers or mountains,
or any such terms as American, English or African,
were not to be found in the Dictionary. The letter
stated that ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY half-dimes had
already come in, from children all over the country,
to pay the schoolmaster for teaching the little English
nailer to read in the Testament, and to write a legi-
ble hand. Nor was this all.-Ezekiel said that there
was no telling how many more half-dimes would
come in; for not only had the children of our own
" School-Room" taken up the matter, but those of oth-
er school-rooms, especially away down in Maine, were
determined to have some share in fitting out the
nailer-boy with an education sufficient to make a
man of him, if he will use it aright. I saw it clear
that the little fellow was to be put to school; that his
hammer was to lie silent on the anvil for the space
of one cold winter; and that the young folks in
America would foot the bill. And I was determin-
ed that this should be a Christmas gift to him, that
he and his young American benefactors might en-
joy it together. So two days before Christmas, I







13


started from Birmingham on foot to carry the present
to him.
It was a bright, frosty morning, and, after a walk
,of twelve miles, I came in sight of the little brick
-cottage of the nailer by the wayside. I approach-
ed it with mingled emotions of solicitude. Perhaps it
1had been vacated by the poor man and his family, and
some other nailer had taken his place. Perhaps the
hand that spares neither rich nor poor had been
there, and I should miss the boy at the anvil. I
stopped once or twice to listen. The windows were
open, but all was still. There was no clicking of
hammers, nor blowing of bellows, to indicate that the
nailer family were still its occupants. I began to fear
that they were gone, and my imagination ran rapidly
over a hundred casualties and changes which might
'have come upon them. TL same gate was open
that invited me to enter last -ammer; and as I passed
'through it, I met a woman who said the nailer was at
dinner in the family apartment of the building. She
went in before me, and the next moment I was
iin the midst of the circle of my old acquaintance,
who had just risen from the table and were sitting
.around the fire. My sudden appearance in their
midst seemed to cause as much pleasure as surprise.
The father arose and welcomed me with the heartfelt
expressions of good-will. Little Josiah, the hero of
any story, came forward timidly with a sunny token
of recognition brightening up his black, sharp eyes.
2







14


The mother, a tidy, interesting looking woman in a
clean, white cap, added her welcome; and I sat down
with them, with Josiah standing between my knees,
and told them my story-how some children in Am-
erica had interested themselves in their boy--how
they had thought of him on their way to school, and
talked of him on their way home, and in the parlor,
and the kitchen and the cottage ;-how they had con-
tributed their pennies, which they had saved or earned,
to send Josiah to school to learn to read the Testa-
ment; and how I had come to bring them, and to ask if
the boy could be spared from the anvil. I glanced
around upon the group of children, whose eager eyes
indicated that they partially comprehended my er-
rand, and then at a couple of sides of bacon suspend-
ed over my head The nailer's eyes followed my own,
and as they reciprocally rested on the bacon, he com-
menced his reply from that end of the subject. He
said it was true that many were worse off than he,
and many were the comforts he had, that thousands
of the poor knew nothing of. Here he glanced affec-
tionately at his children; but my eyes brought him
back to the bacon, and so he went on, apparently
under a new impression of his resources of comfort.
He said he had to sell some of his goods to buy the
pig when very small, and had "luggled" along with
some difficulty to feed and fatten him into a respec-
table size. Yes, he was a pretty clever pig; nor
was that all--the nailing business had become better,







15

by a half-penny a thousand, than when I was with
them in the summer; and Josiah could now earn
ninepence a day. He wanted to send all his children
to school ; if they could not read, they would be poor,
even if they should come to own parks and carriages.
He could not bear to see them growing up with no
books in their hands. He worked long at the anvil
as it was; and he was willing to work longer and
harder to pay the schoolmaster for teaching his children
to read. Josiah was now ten years old; he had been
a faithful boy; he had made nails ever since he could
hold a hammer; and it was for this that he desired
the more to send him to school. It had troubled him
much all along that the boy was working so long
and so well at the anvil, without having any of his
wages to pay the schoolmaster for teaching him some-
thing that would make him rich in his poverty when
he came to be a man; and he had tried to make up
this to him in a little way, by reading to him easy
verses from the Testament, many of 'which he had
learned by heart. Besides this, he had bought a
little picture-reading-book, since I was with them
last, and Josiah could master many easy words in it;
for he had learned almost all the letters. But he
knew this was a slow way of getting on, although he
feared it was the best he could do for him. He knew
not how he could manage to spare him for the winter.
He had no other boy; there was a baby in the cradle
only a fortnight old, which made him five children







16

under ten years of age, to be fed, warmed'and clothed'
through the winter months. Here he fell into a cal-
culation of this kind-he could now earn nine shillings,
or about two dollars and twenty cents, a week. His
coal cost him three shillings a week, and his house-
rent two; leaving him but four shillings a week
for a family of seven persons to live upon. Josiah's
clothes were well nigh gone; they were indeed rag-
ged; there was nothing left to sew patches to; and
all he had in the world was on him, except a smock
frock which he put on over them on the Sabbath.
These considerations gave a thoughtful tone to the-
nailer's voice as they came upon his mind, and a
thoughtful air came over the family group when he
had finished, and they all looked straitly into the fire
as much as to say, It cannot be done." So I began
at the bacon to soften down these obstacles-there-
were nearly 150 pounds of it, besides a spare-rib hang-
ing from another joist-and suggested how much
better off they were than ten thousands of poor peo-
ple in the world. Could they ever spare Josiah
better than during this winter ? He would learn
faster now than when he was older, and when they
could not spare him so well. Nor was this all; if
they could get on without him for a few months, he
might not only learn to read without spelling, but he
could teach his three little sisters to read during the
winter nights, and the baby, tool as soon as it could
talk; so that sending him to school now, would be like







17

sending all his children to the same school. Yes, it
might be more than this. Let him go for a few
months, and when he came back to the anvil, he might
work all day, and in the evening he might get to-
gether all the nailer children that lived within a mile,
and teach them how to read and write. There was
the little Wesleyan chapel within a rod of their own
door, lying useless except on Sundays. It would be
just the place for an evening school for fifty or even
a hundred little children, whose parents were too poor
to send them to the day-schools of the town. And
wouldn't they like to look in and see Josiah with his
primer in hand teaching their neighbors' children to
read in this way; with his clean smock-frock on,
setting copies in the writing-books of the little nailers ?
Josiah, who was standing between my knees, looking
sharply into the fire with his picture book in his
hand, turned suddenly around at this idea and fixed
his eyes inquiringly upon my own. The thought
vibrated through all the fine-strung sympathies of
parental affection. The mother leaned forward to part
away the black hair from the boy's forehead, and said
softly to his father, that she would take the lad's place
at the anvil, if they should want his wages while at
school. This was the crisis of my errand; and, in
my imagination, I tried to catch the eyes of the
children in Our School Room" in America, as I
went on to say, that they would not be willing to have
Josiah go to school in his old worn out clothes,
2*







18

to be laughed at or shunned by well-dressed school-
mates; nor that he should stay at home for want,
of decent and comfortable clothes. I knew what
they would say, if they were with me; and so I
offered to fit him out at the tailor's shop with a good
comfortable suit, as a part of the Christmas present
from his young friends on the other side of the ocean.
The little ones were too timid to crow, but they
looked as if they would when I was gone; and the
nailer and his wife almost cried for joy at what the-
children of a far-off land had done for their son. For
myself, I only regretted that I could not share at the
moment with those young friends all the pleasure I
felt in carrying out their wish and deed of benefi-
cence. I hope it is not the last time that I shall be
associated with them in these little adventures of
benevolence.
Perhaps I have made too long a story of my second
visit to the nailer's cottage. I will merely add, that
it was agreed that I should proceed into the town, a
distance of a mile and a half, to make arrange-
ments for the boy's schooling, and be joined there by
him and his father. So, bidding adieu to the remain-
der of the family, I continued my walk into the town
of Bromsgrove, and soon found a kind-hearted school
teacher who agreed to take the lad and do his best to
forward his education. Having met several gentle-
men in the course of my inquiries, they became inter-
ested in the case, and went with me to the inn, where







19

the lad and his father were waiting for me. Thence
we all proceeded to a clothing shop, where the little
nailer was soon fitted with a warm and decent suit.
One of the company, a Baptist minister, to whose
congregation the Schoolmaster belonged, promised to
call in and see the boy occasionally, and to let me know
how he gets on. I hope Josiah will soon be able to
speak for himself to the children in Our School
Room." On Monday after Christmas, he made his
first entry into any school-room, for the object of
learning to read.



A BUDGET FROM THE LITTLE NAILER.
They have come! the long expected letters from
" Jemmy Stubbins," or the Nailer Boy. I am sure
they will be a treat to all the children that meet in
our School-room.. I hope all the benches will be
full whilst Josiah's letters are read. And what a
nice thing it was in the children in America, to
take that little fellow out of the cinders and soot
of the blacksmith's shop, and send him to school
for two years!
Now many a little boy and girl of our school-room
circle has contributed half a dime towards Josiah's
education. I would ask that little boy or girl what
he or she would sell out all right and title to the
pleasure and consequence of that act for? What







20


would you take in money down for your share in
the work of expanding that little fellow's mind,
and filling it with such new ideas as he expresses
in his letters? What a new world he has lived in
since he returned from school to his little wayside
smithy, the roof of which can hardly be seen over-
the hedge! Think of it-hut you cannot think of it
as it is, unless you could see that nailer's shop andg
cottage. But think of what he was, when you took
him from the anvil and sent him to school, Then
he could not tell a letter of the alphabet, and never
.would have read a verse in the Bible, if it had not
been for your half dimes. Now see with what de-
light he searches the scriptures, and marks and
commits to memory choice verses in that Holy
Book. He has taught his father to read it too, and
is teaching his sisters, and the children of the neigh-
bors to read it, and all good books. A great many
young boys and girls in England have heard what
you did for him, and some of them are beginning
to write to him, and he answers them, and gives
them good advice. The last steamer from England
brought us a nice lot of letters from him, some di-
rected to you, some to me, and one or two to others.
I will read them to you in the order in which they
are written.







21


BROMSGROVE LICKEY, Dec. 4, 1849.
MY DEAR SIR:
I thought that when I wrote to you again I
should have a few subscribers for the Citizen. I
will tell you the reason why I have not got them ;
they are most all primitive methodists. They have
been trying to scheme them a chapel for this last
twelve months. They are having tea parties and
missionary meetings every two or three weeks, so
they have put me off a little longer. I had a good
deal on my mind through reading the Citizen. I
opened my bible at tho forty-first chapter of Isaiah
and at the sixth and seventh verses. There I read
the following words: They helped every one his
neighbor, and every one said to his brother, be of
good courage; so the carpenter encouraged the
goldsmith, and he that smootheth with the hammer
him that smote the anvil, saying, it is ready for the
sodering, and lie fastened it with nails.' I thought
about Mr. Burritt's sparks. He has got a few in
England and France and America. I thought about
the Russians, if they would but examine this chapter
as well as I have, I think they would make away
with their arms, for the Lord sivs, them that wir
against thee, they shall be as nothing and as a thing
of nought. How dare they go to war against their
Maker. Idare not. I have anothtl r word or two to
say to my young friends in America. The boys






22

and girls in England, they are forced to work very
hard all the week till about middle day on the Sat-
urday, and then they get a little time to play while
their parents go and sell their work. They fre-
quently come for me but I am very often forced to
deny them. I tell them that I have some reading
and writing to do. Reading and writing must be
seen to. If that apostle Paul had neglected his
reading and writing, that jailor would have never,
perhaps, seen need to have cried out, what must I
do to be saved,' or if Mr. Burritt had neglected his
reading and writing very likely I should never have
been able to read or write. Though you are in
America and I am in England if we put our heads
to work we don't know what we may do some day.
It does me good to read that there are so many ladies
engaged in the work. I have been asked several
times what was the price of the Citizen, but I have
not found that out yet. I don't know how you count
your money. I don't know how much a cent is.
The first three newspapers that I had, I paid five
pence each for; but now I get them for twopence
each. I keep at my old employment. I did not know
that there was any other country besides England
till I had the Citizen. While I am hammering away
with my two hammers my mind is flying all over
America and Africa and South Carolina and Califor-
nia and Francisco and France and Ireland Scotland
and Wales, and then it comes back to Devonshire,







23

then to Mrs. Prideaux, and then to them ladies at
Bristol, and then to Mr. Fry at London, and what a
good man he is in the cause.
I remain your humble servant wish to be a fellow
laborer, heart and hand.
JOSIAH BANNER.


BROMSGROVE LICKEY, Dec. 28th, 1849.
MY DEAR SIR:
1 have received your letter with two sovereigns
on Dec. 26. I dare say my young friends will look
for something very good from me, but nothing very
interesting for them at this time. I will tell you
the reason. The last week before Christmas I was
working late and early all the week, and at the
end of the week my foot and hand did ache very
much. In that week I received a letter of young
Mr. Fry, a little school boy, and a beautiful letter
it was. I have read it many a time to the boys and
girls and I had to write him one back again that
week, and a few days before I had to write one to
Mr. Coulton, Superintendent of the Sunday school
at Norwood. For this two or three last years, I have
made a practice in going a carol singing on Christ-
mas day in the morning and of course they looked
for me again. So I started out at five o'clock and
came home at nine, and then I went to school. I
have never missed going to school on a Sunday for







24

this last three years. I always like to be there to
teach or to be teached. Now I have got this present
in my hand, it leads me to the Scriptures; and at
the fifty eighth chapter of Isaiah and at the second
verse: Now they seek me daily and delight to
know my ways as a nation that did righteousness and
forsook not the ordinances of their God. They ask
of me the ordinances of justice, they take delight in
approaching to God. Now if all nations would
act to one another as America does to me, I think
that better day would soon come. When I sat down
to write this letter I thought that I would tell my
young friends how thankful I was to receive their
Christmas present; but my pen is not able to ex-
press nor my tongue is not able to confess it.
My young friends, when Mr. Burritt came to our
house first, we had no Bible, but now we have two.
My father could not read it but your kindness has
teached me to read it and now I have teached my
father to read it, and I am trying to teach my sisters
to read it.
I remain your humble servant, wish to be a fellow
laborer.
JOSIAH BANNER.


BROMSGROVE LICKEY, Jan. 18th, 1850.
MY DEAR YOUNG FRIENDS:-I will write you
a few more lines. I have got a very nice cloth coat
and trousers, and I have a suit from head to foot.







25

I have had three happy Christmases, but this is the
best I ever witnessed before. It is not because I
have had much play. I have been so busy in reading
letters and writing letters. I have received two a
week, for this last three weeks, of the friends of
peace. On the morrow after Christmas day I was
at work again. When my sisters have called me
to my breakfast or dinner, I have been forced to be
reading while I have eaten my food. One night I
was reading in the Citizen about my young friends.
I was reading about that little girl which went with-
out milk at supper time because I should have a
suit of clothes. My mother she dropped her head
and began to wipe her eyes, but I kept on reading
till I come to that little girl which came skipping
across the street with a good long list of names
which she had been collecting money of. I was
forced to put the paper down. I told her that you
sent that money to make me comfortable not to
make me miserable. My mother she made me
promise to pay you all again. I told her you did
not want money-you only wanted me to be a good
boy and write about peace and Brotherhood, and as
soon as I can I shall send some money to pay for
some Olive Leaves and a good song to put in them.
There are some good boys in America as well as
girls. They have been very busy for me. I return
you all many sincere thanks for your kindness. I
am writing to you with pen and paper hoping some-
3








26

:time I shall come and see you all face to face. I
shall not come with a sword in my hand nor a gun
nor a fine feather in my cap flying about. I shall
-come with a nice book in my hand or a roll of paper
and tell you some good news. It did not take quite
all that money to buy my suit, so my sisters have
got a little shawl apiece. They have not quite worn
'out their sixpenny bonnets.
JOSIAH BANNER.

DEAR CHILDREN:
I have read these letters to you just as Josiah
wrote them. He is now about 12 years old, work-
ing with two hammers, one with his foot, the other
with his hand, striking off nails as fast as he can."
But I should like to compare his writing with the
'writing of any little boys and girls of his age, that
meet in our schoolroom. He has no nice desk to
write on; his pens and inik are such as he can get.
There were no pen and ink in his father's house
three years ago; for no one could make letters there
when you sent Josiah to school. You see his care
for his little sisters. It did not take all the two gold
sovereigns we sent him first to pay for his suit of
clothes; it would have done, if he had determined
to buy himself a nicer suit. But he, remembered
his sisters lovingly, and gave part of his money to
buy each of them a shawl; and pretty nice shawls
they were, we have not the slightest doubt, and took






27

a considerable part of the money you sent him. He-
knew you were kind to him, but he did not think
you would remember his sisters too, and send them
something to make them warm and comfortable
through the winter. They have received before this
time the two sovereigns, or ten dollars, which you
contributed for their New Year's present. How I
wish that all of you who sent in your half dimes for
them, could look in upon that nailer's family circle
when they opeh the letter and see two bright gold
sovereigns for the little ones. The baby will crow a
little at that, and the mother, who dropped her head
and wiped her eyes, as Josiah read to her out of
the Citizen about that little girl in Newton, who went
without milk so long that he might have a suit of
clothes for Christmas, will drop her head again, but
she will cry for joy, and there will be hopping up and
down for the space of fifteen minutes, I reckon, and
Josiah's black eyes will twinkle with the gladness in
his heart; and the neighbor's children will know
it all before the news is two hours old, and then you
will have another letter from Josiah; and may be
his oldest sister will try her hand at a few marks for
you.
And now, before T dismiss the School, I want to
ask each boy and girl on these benches, who gave a
half dime for Josiah's education, if the brightest
silver dollar ever coined would buy of either of them
that half dime? Would you sell for a dollar your







28

share in his education and happiness, in the joy,
hope and expectations which your gifts have brought
to life in that poor nailer's cottage? There are
some beautiful verses in the Bible which I hope
you will write in your copy-books, and remember
all your days. He that giveth to the poor lendeth
to the Lord, and he will repay." And have you not
been paid fifty times over for what you gave Josiah ?
"It is more blessed to give than to receive," said
One who gave the greatest gift that God could give
to man. Have you not found it so in regard to your
gifts to Josiah ? You see how happy you have made
him; how blessed it has been to him to receive your
presents. But how blessed and happy you must
be to make him all this joy and gladness! Ask little
Phebe Alcott there, if she has not got her pay ten
times over for going without milk so many days that
he might have some warm clothes for winter. Ask
little Sarah Brown if she has not been repaid well
for carrying around her subscription paper for him
so many frosty mornings in Worcester. And now,
good-night. It has been a long, long time since I
met you in the School-room. Many new faces have
been added to our circle. Some that I used to see here
are gone. But still, tfe benches are full, and I hope
no boy or gill will vacate their seat for the next year.













LITTLE JOHNNY.

BY J. B. S8YME.



IT was our fortune to be born in the country -far
away, at the foot of one of the blue hills of Scot-
land -in a quaint old fashioned little house--in a
quiet little village that seemed shrunken and grey,
and grim, and decrepid with age. The drooping
ashes, the solemn oaks, and the shady plane-trees,
spread their long arms tenderly over the straw-
thatched roofs of this lowly hamlet, as if to defend it
from the burning sun and reckless storms; and the
Ayrshire rose and ivy crept up and clung to its damp
and crumbling walls. In the broken parts of the
gables, and in the crevices of the ruined chimneys,
the dew-fed wall-flower grew in poverty and beauty,
and shook the incense from its waving flowers into
the bosom of summer. The bearded moss clustered
like a thousand little brown pin-cushions upon the
old thatch, and older stones; and sometimes the poly-
anthus and primrose, planted beside it by some child
3*








30

who loved to look at flowers, would close their eyes
and lay their dewy cheeks upon the moss's breast at
evening.
The only links that connected the simple, primi-
tive people of this little hamlet, with the purely ideal
was their flowers. They did not know about the par-
ticiple mysteries that science has discovered in those
beautiful children of God, the flowers. They could
not, like the poor pariahs to whom the proud Hin-
doos of India will not speak, converse poetic stories
with those daughters of spring and summer; yet,
they saw something in their flowers beyond the visi-
ble and lowly circumstances of their own every-day
life something that lifted their eyes from the ground
to heaven. The marigold, that star of the earth,
with its bright, yellow petals, reminded them of the
golden stars of heaven; the daisy, with its pure
white blossom, bathed in the dew and sunlight of
smiling morning, recalled to their minds the stories
they had heard in their childhood about the diadems
of fairies; and the blue forget-me-nots seemed to
twinkle like the blue eyes of the angels. And when
winter came, and the fair summer flowers faded
away; moralizings on life, on death and eternity,
came sighing in their expiring exhalations, over that
simple people's souls. It was from being taught, in
this way, to love the flowers of the country, that I
Cultivated sympathies which pre-disposed me to love
city flowers.








31

When I was first transplanted from my own green,
native valley, into the heart of a great city; when my
early home was levelled to the ground, and when its
flowers were withered, never to bloom any more, I
felt as if I had come amongst grim walls to wither
too, and had been uprooted from the light and life of
my youth that I might die. The birds that wailed
around me in their prison cages, seemed to weep for
the hawthorn and alder trees that were growing be-
side the ruins of my old home, and I wept with them,
for I, too, was sighing for nature.
As I became familiar with the lanes, and streets,
and byways of the city, I began at last to find, that
there there were flowers, too flowers beautiful as
the roses in the gardens of paradise, and bright as
the smile of Abel when he worshipped his God.
Day by day, in my little walks, I passed a large
square encompassed by a low wall and lofty iron rail-
ing, in which several hundreds of boys and girls with
rosy cheeks and light hearts, sported, and sang like
fairies holding festival. Here were faces lovelier than
roses; lips brighter than ripe cherries, and eyes
purer than dew; from the day I first beheld those
flowers of the city, I ceased to sigh for the country
and its flowers. I used to stand and gaze at them with
grateful delight, and live over again my own child-
hood's hours, as I watched their childhood's sports.
By and by I knew and became known to several
of those children; 1 gave them kind words, and
they returned me beautiful smiles.







32

There was amongst that host of children one lit-
tie boy whose face was very fair; whose eyes were
very bright, and whose little feet made merry mu-
sic on the smooth pavement. Girls have a strong
intuitive love of the beautiful, and Johnny with his
liquid eyes, and dimpled cheeks, and floating ring,-
lets of gold was the favorite of all the girls at school,
I often wished that I had roses to place upon his
brow, and the waters of paradise to sprinkle on his
cheeks, that I might preserve their bloom forever.
But, alas! city flowers droop and fade and die; and
though tears fall, like Hermon's dews, upon the
cold green earth where they are sleeping, it will
not renew their blooming, nor bring them back:
from the grave-
I looked amongst the tiny throng one day, and
Johnny was not there-I came again and again,
and still he was- not there. He has gone away,'
said I, "to gladden his grandmother's bosom-his
grandmother, who doubtless lives far away in some
little cottage in the country. He will soon comer
back again."
And he did come back again, for on a lovely
summer day, when- the birds and butterflies and
children were sporting in the sun, I saw him seated
in a little chair, amidst his young companions.
-" Shall I soon get well again, to play with them ?"
said he, lifting his pale face and sad eyes towards
his mother's.







33


Yes," said his mother, with a sad smile and a
deep sigh, "you will soon get well again, Johnny."
Alas no, fond mother; the bloom has gone from
his cheek forever, the beauty from his form. Hence-
forth, if he lives, the thoughtless will laugh at him,
as he moves painfully about the streets-the wicked
will mock him. In thy heart only, and in the bow-
ers of paradise, shall he now, henceforth and forever
live and bloom. Slowly and sadly I saw his pale
cheek grow paler, and the lustre fade away from
his eyes.
Time wore away, and this stricken flower of the
city faded away with it. He could no longer sit
and look upon his former playmates; the airs of
Autumn were too cool at last for his sensitive, thin,
pale, transparent cheek.
I was walking one day, in a pensive mood, along
a crowded thoroughfare, where active men jostled
each other in the pursuit of business. There was
life and hope in their eyes, and vigor in their limbs.
It is not on the streets that one is likely to meet the
blighted flowers of the city-the drooping and the
dying do not wither away there. Within the cham-
bers of silent and sorrowful homes they breathe out
their lives, and fade away.
As I walked along, gazing at the tall grim build-
ings and dark alleys, that were so full of old, his-
torical memories, I was suddenly recalled from a
reverie, by a feeble cry; and turning quickly round






34


I saw, in the arms of a robust and rosy lad, the
wasted, corpse-like form of my little friend. I do
not know how I recognized him. It was by an in-
tuition of the soul, for not a feature that his counte-
nance bore in his healthful days, was visible.
I took his trembling little hand in mine, and
shaking my head to clear the moisture from my
eyes, said I, attempting to smile-" How are you ?"
"' Quite well," said the dying infant, and he, too,
smiled.
1 knew that it was an angel that lighted up that
smile-that it was the immortal spirit, rising in sub-
lime resignation above the vanity of health and
earthly beauty, that beamed in his blighted face.
"' I cannot walk now," said Johnny, in a soft, low
voice, that his panting chest could scarcely articu-
late.
I could not speak-and, continued the boy, with
a little sigh, and in tremulous tones-" My mother
is dead."-But thy Father, from whom the purest
and holiest things and thoughts have their being-
the Source of all light and life and beauty and
goodness, lives to thee Johnny, said I in my heart,
Poor little blighted city flower, thought I, as I
looked at him through my tears-immortal flower
of humanity-purer and lovelier now in thy pain
and resignation than when thy cheeks were rosy,
and thy laugh was like a song-bird's music; thou
shalt soon be transplanted to a land where no sor-








35

Tows, sighs, and pains are known; thy little feeble
frame will moulder away beneath the daisy and the
weeping snow-drop, but thy purified soul shall
bloom in everlasting glory, in the bosom of God.
Oh! you who are strong and full of life, speak
gently to the fragile, drooping, blighted flowers of
cities, and do not scorn them. They once were
beautiful; and now they only linger'sadly here,
with no mother to cherish them. Kind words and
gentle looks are everlasting sunshine to city flowers
Around the throne of God are white-winged cher-
ubim, whose countenances are purer than transpa-
rent snow, and whose voices are sweeter than that
of the angel Azazil, who leads the choir of the
daughters of Paradise. Those are the souls of little
children, who have suffered in their bodies and in
their affections, and who have yet complained not.
The soul of little Johnny blooms brightly amongst
those celestial spirits-a flower of heaven.







SEVENTH VOLUME OF

BURRITT'S CHRISTIAN CITIZEN.
ELIHU BURRITT, Proprietor.
EDITORS,
ELIHU BIRRITT, THOMAS DREW, Jr.
REGULAR FOREIGN CORRESPONDENTS,
Edmund Fry, London, Ernest Laoan, Paris.
THE SEVENTH VOLUME of this large and popular Family
Newspaper. commenced Jan. 1st. 1850. Devoted to
Christianity and Reform, Literature, Education, Science,
Art, Agriculture and News.
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY MORNING, AT
WORCESTER, MASS.
TERMS.-ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS, per
Annum, INVARIABLY in Advance.
The Citizen is the organ of no party or sect, but expresses
freely the sentiments of its editors upon all the great reform.
matory questions of the day. Sympathising with all the great
enterprises of Christian benevolence, it especially speaks
against all war in the spirit of peace. It speaks for the
slave as a brother bound; and for the abolition of all insti-
tutions and customs which do not respect the image of God
and a human brother, in every man, of whatever clime, color
or condition of humanity.
1[]' All orders should be POST PAID and directed to either
of the Editors, at WORCESTER, MASS.

BURRITT'S MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS,
The Second Edition of this collection is just published,
with additions, and a
PORTRAIT.
The rapid sale of the first edition of the collected writings
of Mr. Burritt, has rendered necessary the second edition, to
which we have added TWELVE pages of matter, and an
Electrotype portrait of the author.
Price, 25 cents a single copy. A liberal discount made to
those who buy quantities to sell again.
All orders should be addressed post paid to
THOMAS DREW, Jr., Worcester, Mass.










ILLUSTRATIONS


OF

THE LAW OF KINDNESS.


Under this title, we propose to publish a
series of little sweet-breathing books, filled with
instructive stories and sentiments, illustrating
the overcoming power of kindness and love,
and the beauty of peace. They will be written
by persons of highly cultivated hearts and
minds in England and America, and be adapted
and designed for circulation among children in
Sunday Schools, Common Schools, and other
institutions for the education of the young,
and in family circles generally. We trust that
their benevolent teachings, and the Christian
spirit which pervades them, will commend
them to Sunday School Teachers, and all oth-
ers engaged in the moral education of children,
as appropriate gifts to the young.
ELIHU BURRITT.

Printed at Burritt's Citizen Office,
Worcester, May, 1850.


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