ut ourselves in
self-defence (!) against her; she yields the power which God has
given her for her protection, and her character becomes
unnatural. If the vine, whose strength and beauty is to lean upon
the trellis-work, and half conceal its clusters, thinks to assume
the independence and the overshadowing nature of the elm, it will
not only cease to bear fruit, but fall in shame and dishonor into
the dust. We can not, therefore, but regret the mistaken conduct
of those who encourage females to bear an obtrusive and
ostentatious part in measures of reform, and countenance any of
that sex who so far forget themselves as to itinerate in the
character of public lecturers and teachers. We especially deplore
the intimate acquaintance and promiscuous conversation of females
with regard to things which ought not to be named; by which that
modesty and delicacy which is the charm of domestic life, and
which constitutes the true influence of woman in society, is
consumed, and the way opened, as we apprehend, for degeneracy and
ruin.

We say these things not to discourage proper influences against
sin, but to secure such reformation (!) as we believe is
Scriptural, and will be permanent.

William Lloyd Garrison, in a cordial letter, accompanying the above
extract, which he had copied for us with his own hand from the files
of _The Liberator_, said: "This 'Clerical Bull' was fulminated with
special reference to those two noble South Carolina women, Sarah M.
and Angelina E. Grimke, who were at that time publicly pleading for
those in bonds as bound with them, while on a visit to Massachusetts.
It was written by the Rev. Dr. Nehemiah Adams, of Boston, author of 'A
South-side View of Slavery.'"

Maria Weston Chapman's amusing answer in rhyme, shows that the days
for ecclesiastical bulls were fast passing away, when women, even,
could thus make light of them.

MRS. CHAPMAN'S POEM.

"THE TIMES THAT TRY MEN'S SOULS."

Confusion has seized us, and all things go wrong,
The women have leaped from "their spheres,"
And, instead of fixed stars, shoot as comets along,
And are setting the world by the ears!
In courses erratic they're wheeling through space,
In brainless confusion and meaningless chase.

In vain do our knowing ones try to compute
Their return to the or