The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1891-06-19
THE PRISONERS ONLY HOPE.
How the Chains of Captivity May DO
Lightened and Freedom Gained.

III - 'hOi 49,
How the Chains of Captivity May DO
Lightened and Freedom Gained.
From somewhere coincs an old story
of prisoner. This man was chained
in cell, bound hand and foot. Scant
motion his chains allowed: he could
scarcely move limb, and his days and
nights he spent in lamenting his miser-
able fate.
His captor sent him broom, with the
message, ''Sweep your cell and you
snail be free" Free! The man laughed
scornfully. What power had he to
sweep his cell? He could but move his
hands little to and fro.
Came the message again: Sweep
your cell, and you shall be free" De-
spairingly, and with bitter smile, the
man took his broom, and as well as he
could cleared the place at his feet. His
strokes We're feeble and uncertain, but
as he swept, 10, the chains hung lighter
on his arms. He moved them more
freely. The long unused muscles be-
gan to work. Longer and longer grew
his strokes, larger and larger the space
he cleared, family and more family he
felt the weight of his letters. Filled
with wonder and JOY he rose slowly to
his feet, and with an almost forgotten
energy walked back and forth, sweep
ing now with glad haste which soon
brought him freedom.
Throughout the world are many such
prisoners-prisoners none the less that
the walls of their cells are invisible and
to the eyes of others the captives walk
as free men up and down beneath the
open sky. We are bound fast aud sure
and by chains which encircle our bodies
and souls more firmly than bands of
iron. Sometimes the chains have been
forged by love, and we would not break
them if we could, for when we try, they
cut into our hearts as a knife. and lib
erty purchased with bleeding heart is
dearly bought sometimes they are
forged by circumstances whose chains
are light and slender, but strong;
sometimes bynecessity, whose bondage
is hard and sore. sometimes by fear of
ridicule: often, how very often by our
own reluctance and procrastination.
These are the hardest of all to break.
iliS1 may SIItlCil, DllL uIltENtTtt tIltV
tighten the more, and though prone to
the earth, we mourn our incapacitv, we
lose daily the strength to break the
chains which daily drag more and more
heavily. Our virtue is gone. we cry.
Why mock us with hopes we can never
realize? Let us lie here until we die.
Grant that the power to sweep the
whole cell is gone. What then? Cam
not we move a little to and fro? Enough
to clear the space at our feet; enough to
brush away a trifie of the dust which
clouds our eyes, that more light may
fall through. 1t is true we may never
do the great deeds of which we once
dreamed. Few are the blessed hands to
whom it is given to sweep a broad path.
where the feet of others may walk Sc
curely; but the spot, though small and
cramped, to which we are chained
might be made purer and brighter be-
cause 1t is we who are chained there.
And as we strive-who can tell-it
may be a strange strength will stir in
our long-fettercd limbs a mystical grace
may rest on the determined effort to
break the bonds of lifelong repres-
sion. 1t may be that the strokes will
grow stronger and Drawer. That wider
and wider may become the circle we
can reach. 1t might even be that some
where, perhaps near perhaps afar off,
prisoner as hopeless and desolate as
ever we have felt will see the struggle,
and into his heart it will put fresh
courage. For every prisoner who sits
J i