The New England Weekly Review

THE GREEKS,

We feel much gratified in being able to announce to our readers that the laudable efforts of the ladies in Hartford to collect donations for the relief of the Greeks have been attended with success. We trust that the ladies of the neighbouring towns will not refuse their cooperation. The occasion is one, that calls for their deepest sympathies—and, to such a call, we are sure that they will listen with an answering spirit. We are never disposed to the encouragement of a wild and visionary enthusiasm; but if there was ever a time when it was better to act than to deliberate—if there ever was an occasion fitted to warm the virtuous principle into a flame, and stamp cold reflection as a crime, that time and that occasion have now arrived.

"Even when man is cruel, it is the nature of woman to be kind"—and when a nation is dying of want, shall the daughters of America listen unmoved to the tale of their sufferings!

The claims of Greece upon our active sympathies are of a peculiar character—and they come to us with a force, which it would be deeply criminal to resist. Her story is but a dark tale of slavery and blood. Whilst other nations have enjoyed the blessings of freedom and prosperity—whilst their sons and their daughters have been happy in the vivacities of youth and healthfulness, the cup of existence has been dealt to the Greek in another measure. For ages he has been chained down upon the iron bed of Despotism. Placed on the most beautiful portion of the Earth—surrounded by all that can make life a dream of enchantment to the free, he has yet pined and languished in wretchedness.

"The light of Heaven is hateful to the slave—
And the bright things of Earth—he heeds them not—
He turns his eyes from the sweet face of Nature
And thinks but of his fetters."

The state of Greece is at present even more deplorable than during the years of her slavery. Her condition has been painted by abler pens than ours, and is doubtless familiar to the minds of our readers. Her plains have been blasted by war—her harvests destroyed by fire—her vallies, so lately waving with luxuriance and plenty, converted into desolate tracts and, if foreign charity be withheld, nothing now remains to her people but a lingering Death, the death of nakedness and famine. Shall such a scene be beheld with indifference! Greece is imploring us for bread and apparel. Women, children, and men gray with years are craving with tears of supplication a few of the necessaries of life. They implore us as men—they implore us by the ties of a common Religion—they implore us by all that binds the heart of man to the principles of mercy and benevolence to save them from the last pangs of mortal suffering. Is it in our nature to disregard such an appeal! Is it in our nature to disregard the supplications of those who say to us—“give us food, for we die with hunger!” We do not believe it. A man of common humanity would extend relief even to a famishing barbarian,—and we do not believe that the generosity of American citizens can slumber, when a nation of Christians are wandering over their once fertile country, without a home, without apparel, and without the necessary means of subsistence.

The charities of America have in times past been extended to Greece—and it is to be hoped that we shall not now suffer those unfortunate beings to perish, who owe the preservation of their lives to our former bounties. They have learned to pronounce the name of America with blessings. The widow and the orphan have partaken of our bounties, and blessed us as their benefactors with tears of gratitude. The tear of Gratitude—how dear to the heart of sensibility!

"It is a gem more purely bright
More sweet to mercy's eye,
Than Love's soft star, whose mellow light
First fires the evening sky."

We can give much to Greece without injury to ourselves. Heaven has been bountiful to our country in the distribution of its favours. We dwell in a land, where want is unknown, and it becomes us to share our abundance with those who are less favoured than ourselves. Morning and evening it is the christian's prayer—“give us this day our daily bread”—and can the lips, from which such a prayer ascends refuse to speak consolation to a perishing brother! “Then is virtue a name, and humanity has no place on Earth.

If further assistance is to be rendered to Greece it should be rendered without delay. Hundreds of her children have already perished—and every week of our delay is swelling the catalogue of those, who can never more be soothed by human benevolences. The Greeks have struggled nobly for liberty—and they seem to deserve a better fate, than that, which has come upon them. The strength of their enemies is broken down—and it is hard to think that the Greek, after having contended year after year with an overwhelming power, should perish at last, without knowing any thing of the blessings of Liberty save as a bright vision, too beautiful to be realized. When the poor Greek has struggled with convulsive strength against the tide of Adversity, till the point of safety is almost gained—it is hard that the cries of his Despair should be lifted to us in vain. If we continue to act the part, which humanity requires of us, he may yet be happy. “The Isles of Greece where burning Sappho loved and sung” may again become the abode of tranquility, and it will not again be said of the bright region of “eternal summer,” that “all except her sun is set.”