ands of the Colored Race in the
Work of Reconstruction;' and we have seldom seen an audience
more attentive, better pleased, or more enthusiastic. Mrs.
Harper has a splendid articulation, uses chaste, pure language,
has a pleasant voice, and allows no one to tire of hearing her.
We shall attempt no abstract of her address; none that we could
make would do her justice. It was one of which any lecturer
might feel proud, and her reception by a Portland audience was
all that could be desired. We have seen no praises of her that
were overdrawn. We have heard Miss Dickinson, and do not
hesitate to award the palm to her darker colored sister."

In 1856, desiring to see the fugitives in Canada, she visited the Upper
Province, and in a letter dated at Niagara Falls, Sept. 12th, she
unfolded her mind in the following language:

"Well, I have gazed for the first time upon Free Land, and,
would you believe it, tears sprang to my eyes, and I wept. Oh,
it was a glorious sight to gaze for the first time on a land
where a poor slave flying from our glorious land of liberty
would in a moment find his fetters broken, his shackles loosed,
and whatever he was in the land of Washington, beneath the
shadow of Bunker Hill Monument or even Plymouth Rock, here he
becomes a man and a brother. I have gazed on Harper's Ferry, or
rather the rock at the Ferry; I have seen it towering up in
simple grandeur, with the gentle Potomac gliding peacefully at
its feet, and felt that that was God's masonry, and my soul had
expanded in gazing on its sublimity. I have seen the ocean
singing its wild chorus of sounding waves, and ecstacy has
thrilled upon the living chords of my heart. I have since then
seen the rainbow-crowned Niagara chanting the choral hymn of
Omnipotence, girdled with grandeur, and robed with glory; but
none of these things have melted me as the first sight of Free
Land. Towering mountains lifting their hoary summits to catch
the first faint flush of day when the sunbeams kiss the shadows
from morning's drowsy face may expand and exalt your soul. The
first view of the ocean may fill you with strange delight.
Niagara--the great, the glorious Niagara--may hush your spirit
with its ceaseless thunder; it may charm you with its robe of
crested spray and rainbow crown; but the land of Freedom was a
les