HARRIET BEECHER STOWE.

STOWE, HARRIET ELIZABETH BEECHER, a famous American novelist and miscellaneous writer, was born at Litchfield, Conn., June 14, 1811; died at Hartford, Conn., July 1, 1896. She was educated at the seminary of her sister, Catharine, at Hartford, and later was associated with her in its management. When her father, in 1832, went to Cincinnati, as President of Lane Seminary, she accompanied him, and was soon afterward married to Professor Calvin E. Stowe, of that institution, who subsequently became Professor of Sacred Literature in the Andover Theological Seminary.

She wrote several sketches for periodicals, which were in 1842 collected into a volume entitled "The Mayflower." In 1850 she began, in "The National Era," a newspaper published at Washington, a serial story entitled "Uncle Tom's Cabin." This work, having been completed, was republished in 1852 in book form. The anti-slavery excitement was then at its height, and this story met with unexampled success, not only in the United States but in foreign countries. It was translated into more than twenty languages. It is said that there were fourteen German and four French versions. There were also translations into the Arabic, Armenian, Chinese, Japanese, Russian, Welsh, and many other languages, and the book was dramatized over and over again. In 1853 she made a European tour, an account of which appeared under the title of "Sunny Memories of Foreign Lands." In 1856 Mrs. Stowe put forth a second anti-slavery novel, under the title of "Dred: A Tale of the Great Dismal Swamp."

From that period Mrs. Stowe devoted herself earnestly to the literary vocation, writing largely for periodicals. The titles of the principal of these works are: "Our Charley, and What to Do with Him" (1859); "The Minister's Wooing" (1859); "The Pearl of Orr's Island" (1862); "Agnes of Sorento" (1862); "The Ravages of a Carpet" (1864); "House and Home Papers" (1864); "Religious Poems" (1865); "Stories about Dogs" (1865); "Little Foxes (1865); "Queer Little People" (1867); "Daisy's First Winter" (1867); "The Chimney Corner" (1868); "Men of our Times" (1868); "Oldtown Folks" (1869); "Little Pussy Willow" (1870); "Pink and White Tyranny" (1871); "Sam Lawson's Fireside

Stories" (1871); "My Wife and I" (1872); "Palmetto Leaves" (1873); "Betty's Bright Idea" (1875); "We and our Neighbors" (1875); "Footsteps of our Master" (1876); "Poganuc People " (1878); "A Dog's Mission" (1881).

ELIZA'S FLIGHT.

(From "Uncle Tom's Cabin.")

IT is impossible to conceive of a human creature more wholly desolate and forlorn than Eliza, when she turned her footsteps from Uncle Tom's cabin.

Her husband's suffering and dangers, and the danger of her child, all blended in her mind with a confused and stunning sense of the risk she was running in leaving the only home she had ever known, and cutting loose from the protection of a friend whom she loved and revered. Then there was the parting from every familiar object: the place where she had grown up, the trees under which she had played, the groves where she had walked many an evening in happier days, by the side of her young husband, -everything, as it lay in the clear, frosty starlight, seemed to speak reproachfully to her, and ask her whither she could go from a home like that?

But stronger than all was maternal love, wrought into a paroxysm of frenzy by the near approach of a fearful danger. Her boy was old enough to have walked by her side, and in an indifferent case she would only have led him by the hand; but now the bare thought of putting him out of her arms made her shudder, and she strained him to her bosom with a convulsive grasp as she went rapidly forward.

The frosty ground creaked beneath her feet, and she trembled at the sound; every quaking leaf and fluttering shadow sent the blood backward to her heart, and quickened her footsteps. She wondered within herself at the strength that seemed to be come upon her; for she felt the weight of her boy as if it had been a feather, and every flutter of fear seemed to increase the supernatural power that bore her on, while from her pale lips burst forth in frequent ejaculations the prayer to a Friend above: "Lord, help! Lord, save me!"

If it were your Harry, mother, or your Willie, that were going to be torn from you by a brutal trader to-morrow morning, if had seen the you and heard that the papers were man, signed and delivered, and you had only from twelve o'clock

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till morning to make good your escape, how fast could you walk? How many miles could you make in those few brief hours, with the darling at your bosom, the little sleepy head on your shoulder, the small soft arms trustingly holding on to your neck?

For the child slept. At first the novelty and alarm kept him waking; but his mother so hurriedly repressed every breath or sound, and so assured him that if he were only still she would certainly save him, that he clung quietly round her neck, only asking as he found himself sinking to sleep:"Mother, I don't need to keep awake, do I?"

"No, my darling: sleep if you want to.'

"But, mother, if I do get asleep, you won't let him get me?"

"No! so may God help me!" said his mother, with a paler cheek, and a brighter light in her large dark eyes.

"You're sure, ain't you, mother?"

"Yes, sure!" said the mother, in a voice that startled herself-for it seemed to her to come from a spirit within, that was no part of her; and the boy dropped his little weary head on her shoulder and was soon asleep. How the touch of those warm arms, and gentle breathings that came on her neck, seemed to add fire and spirit to her movements! It seemed to her as if strength poured into her in electric streams from every gentle touch and movement of the sleeping, confiding child. Sublime is the dominion of the mind over the body, that for a time can make flesh and nerve impregnable, and string the sinews like steel, so that the weak become so mighty.

The boundaries of the farm, the grove, the wood-lot, passed by her dizzily, as she walked on; and still she went, leaving one familiar object after another, slacking not, pausing not, till reddening daylight found her many a long mile from all traces of any familiar objects upon the open highway.

She had often been with her mistress to visit some connections in the little village of T-, not far from the Ohio River; and knew the road well. To go thither, to escape across the Ohio River, were the first hurried outlines of her plan of escape; beyond that, she could only hope in God.

When horses and vehicles began to move along the highway, with that alert perception peculiar to a state of excitement, and which seems to be a sort of inspiration, she became

aware that her headlong pace and distracted air might bring on her remark and suspicion. She therefore put the boy on the ground; and adjusting her dress and bonnet, she walked on at as rapid a pace as she thought consistent with the preservation of appearances. In her little bundle she had provided a store of cakes and apples, which she used as expedients for quickening the speed of the child; rolling the apple some yards before them, when the boy would run with all his might after it and this ruse, often repeated, carried them over many a half-mile.

After a while they came to a thick patch of woodland, through which murmured a clear brook. As the child complained of hunger and thirst, she climbed over the fence with him; and sitting down behind a large rock which concealed them from the road, she gave him a breakfast out of her little package. The boy wondered and grieved that she could not eat; and when, putting his arms round her neck, he tried to wedge some of his cake into her mouth, it seemed to her that the rising in her throat would choke her.

"No, no, Harry darling! mother can't eat till you are safe! We must go on -on- till we come to the river!" And she hurried again into the road, and again constrained herself to walk regularly and composedly forward.

She was many miles past any neighborhood where she was personally known. If she should chance to meet any who knew her, she reflected that the well-known kindness of the family would be of itself a blind to suspicion, as making it an unlikely supposition that she could be a fugitive. As she was also so white as not to be known as of colored lineage, without a critical survey, and her child was white also, it was much easier for her to pass on unsuspected.

On this presumption, she stopped at noon at a neat farmhouse, to rest herself and buy some dinner for her child and self; for as the danger decreased with the distance, the supernatural tension of the nervous system lessened, and she found herself both weary and hungry.

The good woman, kindly and gossiping, seemed rather pleased than otherwise with having somebody come in to talk with, and accepted without examination Eliza's statement that she 66 was going on a little piece, to spend a week with her friends:" all which she hoped in her heart might prove strictly

true.

An hour before sunset she entered the village of T—, by the Ohio River, weary and footsore but still strong in heart. Her first glance was at the river, which lay, like Jordan, between her and the Canaan of liberty on the other side.

It was now early spring, and the river was swollen and turbulent; great cakes of floating ice were swinging heavily to and fro in the turbid waters. Owing to the peculiar form of the shore on the Kentucky side, the land bending far out into the water, the ice had been lodged and detained in great quantities; and the narrow channel which swept round the bend was full of ice, piled one cake over another, thus forming a temporary barrier to the descending ice, which lodged and formed a great undulating raft, filling up the whole river and extending almost to the Kentucky shore.

Eliza stood for a moment contemplating this unfavorable aspect of things, which she saw at once must prevent the usual ferry-boat from running; and then turned into a small public house on the bank to make a few inquiries.

The hostess, who was busy in various fizzing and stewing operations over the fire, preparatory to the evening meal, stopped with a fork in her hand, as Eliza's sweet and plaintive voice arrested her.

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"What is it?" she said.

“Isn't there any ferry or boat that takes people over to — now?" she said.

"No, indeed!" said the woman: "the boats has stopped running.

Eliza's look of dismay and disappointment struck the woman, and she said inquiringly:

"Maybe you're wanting to get over? Anybody sick? Ye seem mighty anxious!"

"I

"I've got a child that's very dangerous," said Eliza. never heard of it till last night, and I've walked quite a piece to-day, in hopes to get to the ferry."

"Well, now, that's onlucky," said the woman, whose motherly sympathies were much aroused: "I'm re'lly consarned for ye. Solomon!" she called from the window towards a small back building. A man in leather apron and very dirty hands appeared at the door.

"I say, Sol," said the woman, "is that ar man going to tote them bar'ls over to-night?"

"He said he should try, if 't was anyway prudent," said the