When I was a girl Mr. Lane, editor of the Belknap Gazette, would ask me to write for his newspaper during political campaigns. When in my twenties the editor of the New Hampshire Patriot, Hon. Isaac Hill, did the same—and my goose-quill would wag, however weely, for Pierce and King.
During my residence in the South my politics were changed—I lost my fun, and gained a higher hope for humanity. Remembering the spot where they said I was born, I returned to it to worship the God of my fathers. The omnipotent arm moving men and nations, governing sublunary events, giving chance direction and discord harmony, to-day demands all my attention and occupies my life.
In the minutiae of living, whether it be on the field or forum—on the battle-ground or at the ballot-box—men are known by their works, and every day honesty outruns and outweighs human policy. Any attempt to trample on divine Law, to break down state laws or municipal government, to infringe or to abrogate individual rights, reveals the man and his motives; it labels him a dishonest moralist and religionist, a dishonest politician, and an unfit teacher. Parents should beware of entrusting the education of their children to teachers of this sort. The world was not made for a clique or a class of men. God has given to all men equal rights and privileges. Tyranny, monopoly, dishonesty, and religion do not mate well, they are never found together, and they are dangerous guardians of youth. Here let me narrate an incident in my travels.
