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               <h1 class="maintitle">William Lloyd Garrison (1891)</h1>
            </td>
         </tr>
         <tr>
            <td>&nbsp;</td>
            <td align="left"> By Grimke, Archibald H. (1849-1930) &nbsp; </td>
         </tr>
      </table>
      <hr>
      <div class="frontispiece">
         <h2><a name="frontispiece"></a></h2><span class="center"><img src="https://brian.carnell.com/wiki/_media/etext:a:archibald-grimke-william-loyd-garrison-garrison.png" alt="Wm. Lloyd Garrison"></span><p>Wm. Lloyd Garrison</p>
      </div>
      <div class="version">
         <h2><a name="pubhistory"></a></h2>
         <p>
            Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

         </p>
         <p>
            Grimk&eacute;, Archibald Henry, 1849-1930.
            <br><br>
            William Lloyd Garrison, the abolitionist.

         </p>
         <p>
            Reprint of the 1891 ed. published by Funk &amp; Wagnalls,
            New York.

         </p>
         <p>
            1. Garrison, William Lloyd, 1805-1879.

         </p>
         <p>
            Reprinted from the edition of 1891, New York
            First AMS edition published in 1974

         </p>
      </div>
      <div class="dedication">
         <h2><a name="dedication"></a></h2>
         <p><i>To Mrs. Anna M. Day, who has been a mother to
               my little girl, and a sister to me, this book is gratefully
               and affectionately dedicated, by</i></p>
         <p><i>The Author</i>.

         </p>
      </div>
      <div class="preface">
         <h2><a name="preface1"></a>
            PREFACE.

         </h2>
         <p>
            The author of this volume desires by way of
            preface to say just two things:&#8212;firstly, that it is his
            earnest hope that this record of a hero may be an aid
            to brave and true living in the Republic, so that the
            problems knocking at its door for solution may find
            the heads, the hands, and the hearts equal to the performance
            of the duties imposed by them upon the
            men and women of this generation. William Lloyd
            Garrison was brave and true. Bravery and truth
            were the secret of his marvelous career and achievements.
            May his countrymen and countrywomen
            imitate his example and be brave and true, not alone
            in emergent moments, but in everyday things as
            well.

         </p>
         <p>
            So much for the author's firstly, now for his secondly,
            which is to acknowledge his large indebtedness
            in the preparation of this book to that storehouse
            of anti-slavery material, the story of the life of
            William Lloyd Garrison by his children. Out of its
            garnered riches he has filled his sack.

         </p>
         <p>
            HYDE PARK, MASS., May 10, 1891.

         </p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="TOC"></a>
            CONTENTS.

         </h2>
         <table summary="TOC">
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Dedication

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a class="newpage" name="vii" id="vii" title="vii"></a><a href="#dedication" class="ref">III</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Preface

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#preface1" class="ref">V</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER I.
                  <br><br>
                  The Father of the Man

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap1" class="ref">11</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER II.
                  <br><br>
                  The Man Hears a Voice: Samuel, Samuel!

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap2" class="ref">38</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER III.
                  <br><br>
                  The Man Begins his Ministry

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap3" class="ref">69</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER IV.
                  <br><br>
                  The Hour and the Man

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap4" class="ref">92</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER V.
                  <br><br>
                  The Day of Small Things

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap5" class="ref">110</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER VI.
                  <br><br>
                  The Heavy World is Moved

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap6" class="ref">118</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER VII.
                  <br><br>
                  Master Strokes

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap7" class="ref">133</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><a class="newpage" name="viii" id="viii" title="viii"></a>
                  CHAPTER VIII.
                  <br><br>
                  Colorphobia

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap8" class="ref">157</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER IX.
                  <br><br>
                  Agitation and Repression

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap9" class="ref">170</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER X.
                  <br><br>
                  Between the Acts

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap10" class="ref">192</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER XI.
                  <br><br>
                  Mischief Let Loose

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap11" class="ref">208</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER XII.
                  <br><br>
                  Flotsam and Jetsam

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap12" class="ref">233</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER XIII.
                  <br><br>
                  The Barometer Continues to Fall

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap13" class="ref">242</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER XIV.
                  <br><br>
                  Brotherly Love Fails, and Ideas Abound

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap14" class="ref">263</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER XV.
                  <br><br>
                  Random Shots

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap15" class="ref">292</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER XVI.
                  <br><br>
                  The Pioneer Makes a New and Startling Departure

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap16" class="ref">306</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER XVII.
                  <br><br>
                  As in a Looking Glass

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap17" class="ref">319</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER XVIII.
                  <br><br>
                  The Turning of a Long Lane

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap18" class="ref">335</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><a class="newpage" name="ix" id="ix" title="ix"></a>
                  CHAPTER XIX.
                  <br><br>
                  Face to Face

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap19" class="ref">356</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER XX.
                  <br><br>
                  The Death-Grapple

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap20" class="ref">370</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  CHAPTER XXI.
                  <br><br>
                  The Last

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#chap21" class="ref">385</a></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Index

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#index" class="ref">397</a><a class="newpage" name="x" id="x" title="x"></a></td>
            </tr>
         </table>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap1"></a>
            WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            CHAPTER I.
            <br><br><br><br>
            THE FATHER OF THE MAN.

         </h2>
         <p><a class="newpage" name="P_011" id="P_011" title="P_011"></a>
            William Lloyd Garrison was born in Newburyport,
            Massachusetts, December 10, 1805. Forty years
            before, Daniel Palmer, his great-grandfather, emigrated
            from Massachusetts and settled with three
            sons and a daughter on the St. John River, in Nova
            Scotia. The daughter's name was Mary, and it was
            she who was to be the future grandmother of our
            hero. One of the neighbors of Daniel Palmer was
            Joseph Garrison, who was probably an Englishman.
            He was certainly a bachelor. The Acadian solitude
            of five hundred acres and Mary Palmer's charms
            proved too much for the susceptible heart of
            Joseph Garrison. He wooed and won her, and on
            his thirtieth birthday she became his wife. The
            bride herself was but twenty-three, a woman of
            resources and of presence of mind, as she needed to
            be in that primitive settlement. Children and cares
            came apace to the young wife, and we may be sure
            confined her more and more closely to her house.
            But in the midst of a fast-increasing family and of
            <a class="newpage" name="P_012" id="P_012" title="P_012"></a>
            multiplying cares a day's outing did occasionally
            come to the busy housewife, when she would go
            down the river to spend it at her father's farm.
            Once, ten years after her marriage, she had a narrow
            escape on one of those rare days. She had started
            in a boat with her youngest child, Abijah, and a lad
            who worked in her household. It was spring and
            the St. John was not yet clear of ice. Higher up the
            river the ice broke that morning and came floating
            down with the current. The boat in which Mary
            Garrison and her baby rode was overtaken by the
            fragments and wrecked. The mother with her child
            sought refuge on a piece of ice and was driven shoreward.
            Wrapping Abijah in all the clothes she could
            spare she threw him ashore. She and the lad followed
            by the aid of an overhanging willow bough.
            The baby was unharmed, for she had thrown him
            into a snow-bank. But the perils of the river gave
            place to the perils of the woods. In them Mary
            Garrison wandered with her infant, who was no less
            a personage than the father of William Lloyd Garrison,
            until at length she found the hut of a friendly
            Indian, who took her in and "entertained her with
            his best words and deeds, and the next morning
            conducted her safely to her father's."

         </p>
         <p>
            The Palmers were a hardy, liberty-loving race of
            farmers, and Joseph Garrison was a man of unusual
            force and independence of character. The life which
            these early settlers lived was a life lived partly
            on the land and partly on the river. They were
            equally at home with scythe or oar. Amid such
            terraqueous conditions it was natural enough that
            the children should develop a passion for the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_013" id="P_013" title="P_013"></a>
            sea. Like ducks many of them took to the water
            and became sailors. Abijah was a sailor. The
            amphibious habits of boyhood gave to his manhood
            a restless, roving character. Like the element
            which he loved he was in constant motion.
            He was a man of gifts both of mind and body.
            There was besides a strain of romance and adventure
            in his blood. By nature and his seafaring life he
            probably craved strong excitement. This craving
            was in part appeased no doubt by travel and drink.
            He took to the sea and he took to the cup. But he
            was more than a creature of appetites, he was a man
            of sentiment. Being a man of sentiment what should
            he do but fall in love. The woman who inspired his
            love was no ordinary woman, but a genuine Acadian
            beauty. She was a splendid specimen of womankind.
            Tall she was, graceful and admirably proportioned.
            Never before had Abijah in all his wanderings
            seen a creature of such charms of person. Her
            face matched the attractions of her form and her mind
            matched the beauty of her face. She possessed a
            nature almost Puritanic in its abhorrence of sin, and
            in the strength of its moral convictions. She feared
            to do wrong more than she feared any man. With
            this supremacy of the moral sense there went along
            singular firmness of purpose and independence of
            character. When a mere slip of a girl she was called
            upon to choose between regard for her religious convictions
            and regard for her family. It happened in
            this wise. Fanny Lloyd's parents were Episcopalians,
            who were inclined to view with contempt fellow-Christians
            of the Baptist persuasion. To have
            a child of theirs identify herself with this despised
            <a class="newpage" name="P_014" id="P_014" title="P_014"></a>
            sect was one of those crosses which they could not
            and would not bear. But Fanny had in a fit of girlish
            frolic entered one of the meetings of these low-caste
            Christians. What she heard changed the current of
            her life. She knew thenceforth that God was no
            respecter of persons, and that the crucified Nazarene
            looked not upon the splendor of ceremonies but upon
            the thoughts of the heart of His disciples. Here in a
            barn, amid vulgar folk, and uncouth, dim surroundings,
            He had appeared, He, her Lord and Master.
            He had touched her with that white unspeakable
            appeal. The laughter died upon the fair girlish face
            and prayer issued from the beautiful lips. If vulgar
            folk, the despised Baptists, were good enough for the
            Christ, were they not good enough for her? Among
            them she had felt His consecrating touch and among
            them she determined to devote herself to Him. Her
            parents commanded and threatened but Fanny Lloyd
            was bent on obeying the heavenly voice of duty rather
            than father and mother. They had threatened that
            if she allowed herself to be baptised they would turn
            her out of doors. Fanny was baptised and her parents
            made good the threat. Their home was no longer
            her home. She had the courage of her conviction&#8212;ability
            to suffer for a belief.

         </p>
         <p>
            Such was the woman who subsequently became the
            wife of Abijah Garrison, and the mother of one of
            the greatest moral heroes of the century. Abijah
            followed the sea, and she for several years with an
            increasing family followed Abijah. First from one
            place and then another she glided after him in her
            early married life. He loved her and his little ones
            but the love of travel and change was strong within
            <a class="newpage" name="P_015" id="P_015" title="P_015"></a>
            him. He was ever restless and changeful. During
            one of his roving fits he emigrated with his family
            from Nova Scotia to the United States. It was in
            the spring of 1805 that he and they landed in Newburyport.
            The following December his wife presented
            him with a boy, whom they called William
            Lloyd Garrison. Three years afterward Abijah
            deserted his wife and children. Of the causes which
            led to this act nothing is now known. Soon after
            his arrival in Newburyport he had found employment.
            He made several voyages as sailing-master in
            1805-8 from that port. He was apparently during
            these years successful after the manner of his craft.
            But he was not a man to remain long in one place.
            What was the immediate occasion of his strange
            behavior we can only conjecture. Possibly an
            increasing love for liquor had led to domestic differences,
            which his pleasure-loving nature would not
            brook. Certain it was that he was not like his wife.
            He was not a man in whom the moral sense was
            uppermost. He was governed by impulse and she
            by fixed moral and religious principles. He drank
            and she abhorred the habit. She tried first moral
            suasion to induce him to abandon the habit, and
            once, in a moment of wifely and motherly indignation,
            she broke up one of his drinking parties in her
            house by trying the efficacy of a little physical
            suasion. She turned the company out of doors and
            smashed the bottles of liquor. This was not the
            kind of woman whom Abijah cared to live with as a
            wife. He was not the sort of man whom the most
            romantic love could attach to the apron-strings of
            any woman. And in the matter of his cup he probably
            <a class="newpage" name="P_016" id="P_016" title="P_016"></a>
            saw that this was what he would be obliged to
            do as the condition of domestic peace. The condition
            he rejected and, rejecting it, rejected and cast-off
            his wife and family and the legal and moral responsibilities
            of husband and father.

         </p>
         <p>
            Bitter days now followed and Fanny Garrison
            became acquainted with grief and want. She had
            the mouths of three children to fill&#8212;the youngest an
            infant at her breast. The battle of this broken-hearted
            woman for their daily bread was as heroic as
            it was pathetic. She still lived in the little house on
            School street where Lloyd was born. The owner,
            Martha Farnham, proved herself a friend indeed to
            the poor harassed soul. Now she kept the wolf from
            the door by going out as a monthly nurse&#8212;"Aunt
            Farnham" looking after the little ones in her
            absence. She was put to all her possibles during
            those anxious years of struggle and want. Even
            Lloyd, wee bit of a boy, was pressed into the service.
            She would make molasses candies and send him upon
            the streets to sell them. But with all her industry
            and resource what could she do with three children
            weighing her down in the fierce struggle for existence,
            rendered tenfold fiercer after the industrial
            crisis preceding and following the War of 1812.
            Then it was that she was forced to supplement her
            scant earnings with refuse food from the table of "a
            certain mansion on State street." It was Lloyd who
            went for this food, and it was he who had to run the
            gauntlet of mischievous and inquisitive children
            whom he met and who longed for a peep into his tin
            pail. But the future apostle of non-resistance was
            intensely resistant, we may be sure, on such occasions.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_017" id="P_017" title="P_017"></a>
            For, as his children have said in the story of
            his life: "Lloyd was a thorough boy, fond of games
            and of all boyish sport. Barefooted, he trundled his
            hoop all over Newburyport; he swam in the Merrimac
            in summer, and skated on it in winter; he was
            good at sculling a boat; he played at bat and ball
            and snowball, and sometimes led the 'Southend
            boys' against the Northenders in the numerous conflicts
            between the youngsters of the two sections; he
            was expert with marbles. Once, with a playmate, he
            swam across the river to 'Great Rock,' a distance of
            three-fourths of a mile and effected his return against
            the tide; and once, in winter, he nearly lost his life
            by breaking through the ice on the river and reached
            the shore only after a desperate struggle, the ice
            yielding as often as he attempted to climb upon its
            surface. It was favorite pastime of the boys of that
            day to swim from one wharf to another adjacent,
            where vessels from the West Indies discharged
            their freight of molasses, and there to indulge in
            stolen sweetness, extracted by a smooth stick inserted
            through the bung-hole. When detected and chased,
            they would plunge into the water and escape to the
            wharf on which they had left their clothes." Such
            was the little man with a boy's irrepressible passion
            for frolic and fun. His passion for music was hardly
            less pronounced, and this he inherited from his
            mother, and exercised to his heart's content in the
            choir of the Baptist Church. These were the bright
            lines and spots in his strenuous young life. He
            played and sang the gathering brood of cares out of
            his own and his mother's heart. He needed to play
            and he needed to sing to charm away from his spirit
            <a class="newpage" name="P_018" id="P_018" title="P_018"></a>
            the vulture of poverty. That evil bird hovered ever
            over his childhood. It was able to do many hard things
            to him, break up his home, sunder him from his
            mother, force him at a tender age to earn his bread,
            still there was another bird in the boy's heart, which
            sang out of it the shadow and into it the sunshine.
            Whatever was his lot there sang the bird within his
            breast, and there shone the sun over his head and
            into his soul. The boy had unconsciously drawn
            around him a circle of sunbeams, and how could the
            vulture of poverty strike him with its wings or stab
            him with its beak. When he was about eight he was
            parted from his mother, she going to Lynn, and he,
            wee mite of a man, remaining in Newburyport. It was
            during the War of 1812, and pinching times, when
            Fanny Garrison was at her wit's end to keep the wolf
            from devouring her three little ones and herself into
            the bargain. With what tearing of the heart-strings
            she left Lloyd and his little sister Elizabeth
            behind we can now only imagine. She had
            no choice, poor soul, for unless she toiled they
            would starve. So with James, her eldest son, she
            went forth into the world to better theirs and her
            own condition. Lloyd went to live in Deacon Ezekiel
            Bartlett's family. They were good to the little fellow,
            but they, too, were poor. The Deacon, among other
            things, sawed wood for a living, and Lloyd hardly
            turned eight years, followed him in his peregrinations
            from house to house doing with his tiny hands what
            he could to help the kind old man. Soon Fanny
            Lloyd's health, which had supported her as a magic
            staff in all those bitter years since Abijah's desertion
            of wife and children, began in the battle for bread in
            <a class="newpage" name="P_019" id="P_019" title="P_019"></a>
            Lynn, to fail her. And so, in her weakness, and with
            a great fear in her heart for her babies, when she was
            gone from them into the dark unknown forever, she
            bethought her of making them as fast as possible self-supporting.
            And what better way was there than to
            have the boys learn some trade. James she had
            already apprenticed to learn the mystery of shoemaking.
            And for Lloyd she now sent and apprenticed
            him, too, to the same trade. Oh! but it was
            hard for the little man, the heavy lapstone and all
            this thumping and pounding to make a shoe. Oh!
            how the stiff waxen threads cut into his soft fingers,
            how all his body ached with the constrained
            position and the rough work of shoemaking. But
            one day the little nine-year-old, who was "not much
            bigger than a last," was able to produce a real shoe.
            Then it was probably that a dawning consciousness
            of power awoke within the child's mind. He himself
            by patience and industry had created a something
            where before was nothing. The eye of the boy
            got for the first time a glimpse of the man, who was
            still afar off, shadowy in the dim approaches of the
            hereafter. But the work proved altogether beyond
            the strength of the boy. The shoemaker's bench was
            not his place, and the making of shoes for his kind
            was not the mission for which he was sent into the
            world. And now again poverty, the great scene-shifter,
            steps upon the stage, and Fanny Lloyd and her
            two boys are in Baltimore on that never-ending quest
            for bread. She had gone to work in a shoe factory
            established by an enterprising Yankee in that city.
            The work lasted but a few months, when the proprietor
            failed and the factory was closed. In a
            <a class="newpage" name="P_020" id="P_020" title="P_020"></a>
            strange city mother and children were left without
            employment. In her anxiety and distress a new
            trouble, the greatest and most poignant since Abijah's
            desertion, wrung her with a supreme grief. James,
            the light and pride of her life, had run away from
            his master and gone to sea. Lloyd, poor little homesick
            Lloyd, was the only consolation left the broken
            heart. And he did not want to live in Baltimore,
            and longed to return to Newburyport. So, mindful
            of her child's happiness, and all unmindful of her
            own, she sent him from her to Newburyport, which
            he loved inexpressibly. He was now in his eleventh
            year. Very happy he was to see once more the
            streets and landmarks of the old town&#8212;the river,
            and the old house where he was born, and the church
            next door and the school-house across the way and
            the dear friends whom he loved and who loved him.
            He went again to live with the Bartletts, doing with
            his might all that he could to earn his daily bread,
            and to repay the kindness of the dear old deacon and
            his family. It was at this time that he received his
            last scrap of schooling. He was, as we have seen, but
            eleven, but precious little of that brief and tender
            time had he been able to spend in a school-house.
            He had gone to the primary school, where, as his
            children tell us, he did not show himself "an apt
            scholar, being slow in mastering the alphabet, and
            surpassed even by his little sister Elizabeth." During
            his stay with Deacon Bartlett the first time, he was
            sent three months to the grammar-school, and now
            on his return to this good friend, a few more weeks
            were added to his scant school term. They proved
            the last of his school-days, and the boy went forth
            <a class="newpage" name="P_021" id="P_021" title="P_021"></a>
            from the little brick building on the Mall to finish
            his education in the great workaday world, under those
            stern old masters, poverty and experience. By and by
            Lloyd was a second time apprenticed to learn a trade.
            It was to a cabinetmaker in Haverhill, Mass. He made
            good progress in the craft, but his young heart still
            turned to Newburyport and yearned for the friends
            left there. He bore up against the homesickness as
            best he could, and when he could bear it no longer,
            resolved to run away from the making of toy bureaus,
            to be once more with the Bartletts. He had partly
            executed this resolution, being several miles on the
            road to his old home, when his master, the cabinetmaker,
            caught up to him and returned him to Haverhill.
            But when he heard the little fellow's story of
            homesickness and yearning for loved places and
            faces, he was not angry with him, but did presently
            release him from his apprenticeship. And so the boy
            to his great joy found himself again in Newburyport
            and with the good old wood-sawyer. Poverty and
            experience were teaching the child what he never
            could have learned in a grammar-school, a certain
            acquaintance with himself and the world around
            him. There was growing within his breast a self-care
            and a self-reliance. It was the autumn of 1818,
            when, so to speak, the boy's primary education in
            the school of experience terminated, and he entered on
            the second stage of his training under the same rough
            tutelage. At the age of thirteen he entered the office
            of the Newburyport <i>Herald</i> to learn to set types.
            At last his boy's hands had found work which his
            boy's heart did joy to have done. He soon mastered
            the compositor's art, became a remarkably rapid
            <a class="newpage" name="P_022" id="P_022" title="P_022"></a>
            composer. As he set up the thoughts of others, he
            was not slow in discovering thoughts of his own
            demanding utterance. The printer's apprentice felt
            the stirrings of a new life. A passion for self-improvement
            took possession of him. He began to read the
            English classics, study American history, follow the
            currents of party politics. No longer could it be
            said of him that he was not an apt pupil. He was
            indeed singularly apt. His intelligence quickened
            marvelously. The maturing process was sudden
            and swift. Almost before one knows it the boy in
            years has become a man in judgment and character.
            This precipitate development of the intellectual life
            in him, produced naturally enough an appreciable
            enlargement of the <i>ego</i>. The young eagle had
            abruptly awakened to the knowledge that he possessed
            wings; and wings were for use&#8212;to soar with.
            Ambition, the desire to mount aloft, touched and
            fired the boy's mind. As he read, studied, and
            observed, while his hands were busy with his work,
            there was a constant fluttering going on in the eyrie
            of his thoughts. By an instinct analogous to that
            which sends a duck to the water, the boy took to the
            discussion of public questions. It was as if an innate
            force was directing him toward his mission&#8212;the reformation
            of great public wrongs. At sixteen he made
            his first contribution to the press. It was a discussion
            of a quasi-social subject, the relation of the
            sexes in society. He was at the impressionable age,
            when the rosy god of love is at his tricks. He was
            also at a stage of development, when boys are least
            attractive, when they are disagreeably virile, full of
            their own importance and the superiority of their sex.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_023" id="P_023" title="P_023"></a>
            In the "Breach of the Marriage Promise," by "An
            Old Bachelor," these signs of adolescence are by no
            means wanting, they are, on the contrary, distinctly
            present and palpable. But there were other signs
            besides these, signs that the youth had had his eyes
            wide open to certain difficulties which beset the
            matrimonial state and to the conventional steps
            which lead to it, and that he had thought quite
            soberly, if not altogether wisely upon them. The
            writer was verdant, to be sure, and self-conscious,
            and partial in his view of the relations of the sexes,
            but there was withal a serious purpose in the writing.
            He meant to expose and correct what he conceived
            to be reprehensible conduct on the part of the
            gentler sex, bad feminine manners. Just now he
            sees the man's side of the shield, a few years later he
            will see the woman's side also. He ungallantly concludes
            "to lead the '<em>single life</em>,' and not," as he
            puts it, "trouble myself about the ladies." A most
            sapient conclusion, considering that this veteran
            misogynist was but sixteen years old. During the
            year following the publication of this article, he plied
            his pen with no little industry&#8212;producing in all
            fifteen articles on a variety of topics, such as "South
            American Affairs," "State Politics," "A Glance at
            Europe," etc., all of which are interesting now chiefly
            as showing the range of his growing intelligence, and
            as the earliest steps by which he acquired his later mastery
            of the pen and powerful style of composition.
            In a letter addressed to his mother about this time,
            the boy is full of Lloyd, undisguisedly proud of
            Lloyd, believes in Lloyd. "When I peruse them
            over" (<i>i.e.</i> those fifteen communications to the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_024" id="P_024" title="P_024"></a>
            press), "I feel absolutely astonished," he na&iuml;vely confesses,
            "at the different subjects which I have discussed,
            and the style in which they are written.
            Indeed it is altogether a matter of surprise that I
            have met with such signal success, seeing I do not
            understand <em>one single rule of grammar</em>, and having a
            very inferior education." The printer's lad was
            plainly not lacking in the bump of approbativeness,
            or the quality of self-assertiveness. The quick
            mother instinct of Fanny Garrison took alarm at the
            tone of her boy's letter. Possibly there was something
            in Lloyd's florid sentences, in his facility of
            expression, which reminded her of Abijah. He, too,
            poor fellow, had had gifts in the use of the pen, and
            what had he done, what had he come to? Had he
            not forsaken wife and children by first forsaking the
            path of holiness? So she pricks the boy's bubble,
            and points him to the one thing needful&#8212;God in the
            soul. But in her closing words she betrays what we
            all along suspected, her own secret pleasure in her
            son's success, when she asks, "Will you be so kind
            as to bring on your pieces that you have written
            for me to see?" Ah! was she not every inch a
            mother, and how Lloyd did love her. But she was
            no longer what she had been. And no wonder, for
            few women have been called to endure such heavy
            burdens, fight so hopelessly the battle for bread, all
            the while her heart was breaking with grief. Disease
            had made terrible inroads upon her once strong and
            beautiful person. Not the shadow of the strength
            and beauty of her young womanhood remained. She
            was far away from her early home and friends, far
            away from her darling boy, in Baltimore. James,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_025" id="P_025" title="P_025"></a>
            her pride, was at sea, Elizabeth, a sweet little maiden
            of twelve, had left her to take that last voyage
            beyond another sea, and Abijah, without one word
            of farewell, with the silence of long years unbroken,
            he, too, also! had hoisted sail and was gone forever.
            And now in her loneliness and sorrow, knowing that
            she, too, must shortly follow, a great yearning rose
            up in her poor wounded heart to see once more her
            child, the comfort and stay of her bitter life. And
            as she had written to him her wish and longing,
            the boy went to her, saw the striking change, saw
            that the broken spirit of the saintly woman was day
            by day nearing the margin of the dark hereafter,
            into whose healing waters it would bathe and be
            whole again. The unspeakable experience of mother
            and son, during this last meeting is not for you and
            me, reader, to look into. Soon after Lloyd's return
            to Newburyport a cancerous tumor developed on her
            shoulder, from the effects of which she died September
            3, 1823, at the age of forty-five. More than a
            decade after her death her son wrote: "She has been
            dead almost eleven years; but my grief at her loss is
            as fresh and poignant now as it was at that period;"
            and he breaks out in praise of her personal charms in
            the following original lines:

         </p>
         <div class="lg">"She was the masterpiece of womankind&#8212;<br>In shape and height majestically fine;<br>Her cheeks the lily and the rose combined;<br>Her lips&#8212;more opulently red than wine;<br>Her raven locks hung tastefully entwined;<br>Her aspect fair as Nature could design;<br>And then her eyes! so eloquently bright!<br>An eagle would recoil before her light."<br><br></div>
         <p><a class="newpage" name="P_026" id="P_026" title="P_026"></a>
            The influence of this superb woman was a lasting
            power for truth and righteousness in the son's stormy
            life. For a whole year after her death, the grief of
            the printer's lad over his loss, seemed to have checked
            the activity of his pen. For during that period nothing
            of his appeared in the <i>Herald</i>.
            But after the sharp
            edge of his sorrow had worn off, his pen became
            active again in the discussion of public men and public
            questions. It was a period of bitter personal and
            political feuds and animosities. The ancient Federal
            party was <i>in articulo mortis</i>. The
            death-bed of a great political organization proves oftentimes the
            graveyard of lifelong friendships. For it is a scene
            of crimination and recrimination. And so it happened
            that the partisans of John Adams, and the
            partisans of John Adams's old Secretary of State,
            Timothy Pickering, were in 1824 doing a thriving
            business in this particular line. Into this funereal
            performance our printer's apprentice entered with
            pick and spade. He had thus early a <i>penchant</i> for
            controversy, a soldier's scent for battle. If there was
            any fighting going on he proceeded directly to have
            a hand in it. And it cannot be denied that that hand
            was beginning to deal some manly and sturdy blows,
            whose resound was heard quite distinctly beyond
            the limits of his birthplace. His communications
            appeared now, not only in the <i>Herald</i>, but in the
            Salem <i>Gazette</i> as well. Now it was the
            Adams-Pickering controversy, now the discussion of General
            Jackson as a presidential candidate, now the state of
            the country in respect of parties, now the merits of
            "American Writers," which afforded his 'prentice
            hand the requisite practice in the use of the pen. He
            <a class="newpage" name="P_027" id="P_027" title="P_027"></a>
            had already acquired a perfect knowledge of typesetting
            and the mechanical makeup of a newspaper.
            During his apprenticeship he took his first lesson in
            the art of thinking on his feet in the presence of an
            audience. The audience to be sure were the members
            of a debating club, which he had organized. He
            was very ambitious and was doubtless looking forward
            to a political career. He saw the value of extempore
            speech to the man with a future, and he
            wisely determined to possess himself of its advantage.
            He little dreamt, however, to what great use he was
            to devote it in later years. There were other points
            worth noting at this time, and which seemed to
            prophecy for him a future of distinction. He
            possessed a most attractive personality. His energy
            and geniality, his keen sense of humor, his social and
            bouyant disposition, even his positive and opinionated
            temper, were sources of popular strength to him.
            People were strongly drawn to him. His friends
            were devoted to him. He had that quality, which
            we vaguely term magnetic, the quality of attaching
            others to us, and maintaining over them the ascendency
            of our character and ideas.

         </p>
         <p>
            In the midst of all this progress along so many
            lines, the days of his apprenticeship in the
            <i>Herald</i>
            office came to an end. He was just twenty. With true
            Yankee enterprise and pluck, he proceeded to do for
            himself what for seven years he had helped to do for
            another&#8212;publish a newspaper. And with a brave
            heart the boy makes his launch on the uncertain sea
            of local journalism and becomes editor and publisher
            of a real, wide-awake sheet, which he calls the <i>Free
               Press.</i> The paper was independent in politics and
            <a class="newpage" name="P_028" id="P_028" title="P_028"></a>
            proved worthy of its name during the six months
            that Garrison sat in the managerial chair. Here is
            the tone which the initial number of the paper holds
            to the public: "As to the political course of the
            <i>Free Press</i>, it shall be, in the widest sense of
            the term, <em>independent</em>. The publisher does not mean by this, to
            rank amongst those who are of everybody's and of
            nobody's opinion; ... nor one of whom the
            old French proverb says:
            <i>Il ne soit sur quel pied danser</i>.
            [He knows not on which leg to dance.] Its
            principles shall be open, magnanimous and free. It
            shall be subservient to no party or body of men; and
            neither the craven fear of loss, nor the threats of the
            disappointed, nor the influence of power, shall ever
            awe one single opinion into silence. Honest and fair
            discussion it will court; and its columns will be open
            to all temperate and intelligent communications
            emanating from whatever political source. In fine
            we will say with Cicero: 'Reason shall prevail with
            him more than popular opinion.' They who like
            this avowal may extend their encouragement; and if
            any feel dissatisfied with it, they must act accordingly.
            The publisher cannot condescend to solicit
            their support." This was admirable enough in its
            way, but it was poor journalism some will say. And
            without doubt when judged by the common commercial
            standard it <em>was</em> poor journalism. In this
            view it is a remarkable production, but in another aspect
            it is still more remarkable in that it took with
            absolute accuracy the measure of the man. As a
            mental likeness it is simply perfect. At no time during
            his later life did the picture cease to be an exact
            moral representation of his character. It seems quite
            <a class="newpage" name="P_029" id="P_029" title="P_029"></a>
            unnecessary, therefore, to record that he proceeded
            immediately to demonstrate that it was no high
            sounding and insincere declaration. For in the
            second number, he mentions with that singular
            serenity, which ever distinguished him on such occasions,
            the discontinuance of the paper on account of
            matter contained in the first issue, by ten indignant
            subscribers. "Nevertheless," he adds, "our happiness
            at the loss of such subscribers is not a whit
            abated. We <em>beg</em> no man's patronage, and shall ever
            erase with the same cheerfulness that we insert the
            name of any individual.... Personal or political
            offence we shall studiously avoid&#8212;truth <em>never</em>."
            Here was plainly a wholly new species of the <i>genus
               homo</i> in the editorial seat. What, expect to make a
            newspaper pay and not beg for patronage? Why
            the very idea was enough to make newspaperdom
            go to pieces with laughter. Begging for patronage,
            howling for subscribers, cringing, crawling, changing
            color like the chameleon, howling for Barabbas or
            bellowing against Jesus, all these things must your
            newspaper do to prosper. On them verily hang the
            whole law and all the profits of modern journalism.
            This is what the devil of competition was doing in
            that world when William Lloyd Garrison entered it.
            It took him up into an exceedingly high mountain, we
            may be certain, and offered him wealth, position, and
            power, if he would do what all others were doing. And
            he would not. He went on editing and publishing
            his paper for six months regardful only of what his
            reason approved&#8212;regardless always of the disapproval
            of others. Not once did he palter with his
            convictions or juggle with his self-respect for the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_030" id="P_030" title="P_030"></a>
            sake of pelf or applause. His human horizon was
            contracted, to be sure. It could hardly be otherwise
            in one so young. His world was his country, and
            patriotism imposed limits upon his affections. "Our
            country, our whole country, and nothing but our
            country," was the ardent motto of the
            <i>Free Press</i>.
            The love of family comes, in the order of growth, before
            the love of country; and the love of country
            precedes the love of all mankind. "First the blade,
            then the ear, then the full corn in the ear," is the
            great law of love in the soul as of corn in the soil. Besides
            this contraction of the affections, there was also
            manifest in his first journalistic venture a deficiency
            in the organ of vision, a failure to see into things and
            their relations. What he saw he reported faithfully,
            suppressing nothing, adding nothing. But the objects
            which passed across the disk of his editoral intelligence
            were confined almost entirely to the
            surface of things, to the superficies of national
            life. He had not the ken at twenty to penetrate beneath
            the happenings of current politics. Of the existence
            of slavery as a supreme reality, we do not
            think that he then had the faintest suspicion. No
            shadow of its tremendous influence as a political
            power seemed to have arrested for a brief instant his
            attention. He could copy into his paper this
            atrocious sentiment which Edward Everett delivered
            in Congress, without the slightest comment or
            allusion. "Sir, I am no soldier. My habits and education
            are very unmilitary, but there is no cause in
            which I would sooner buckle a knapsack on my
            back, and put a musket on my shoulder than that of
            putting down a servile insurrection at the South."
            <a class="newpage" name="P_031" id="P_031" title="P_031"></a>
            The reason is plain enough. Slavery was a <i>terra
               incognito</i> to him then, a book of which he had not
            learned the ABC. Mr. Everett's language made
            no impression on him, because he had not the key to
            interpret its significance. What he saw, that he set
            down for his readers, without fear or favor. He had
            not seen slavery, knew nothing of the evil. Acquaintance
            with the deeper things of life, individual or
            national, comes only with increasing years, they are
            hardly for him who has not yet reached his majority.
            Slavery was the very deepest thing in the life of the
            nation sixty-four years ago. And if Garrison did not
            then so understand it, neither did his contemporaries,
            the wisest and greatest of them so understand it.
            The subject of all others which attracted his attention,
            and kept his editorial pen busy, was the claim
            of Massachusetts for indemnity from the general government,
            for certain disbursements made by her for
            the defence of her sea-coast during the war of 1812.
            This matter, which forms but a mere dust point in
            the perspective of history, his ardent young mind
            mistook for a principal object, erected into a permanent
            question in the politics of the times. But the
            expenditure of enormous energies upon things of
            secondary and of even tertiary importance, to the
            neglect of others of prime and lasting interest, is
            supremely human. He was errant where all men go
            astray. But the schoolmaster of the nation was
            abroad, and was training this young man for the
            work he was born to do. These six months were,
            therefore, not wasted, for in the university of experience
            he did ever prove himself an apt scholar.
            One lesson he had learned, which he never needed to
            <a class="newpage" name="P_032" id="P_032" title="P_032"></a>
            relearn. Just what that lesson was, he tells in his
            valedictory to the subscribers of the
            <i>Free Press</i>, as
            follows: "This is a time-serving age; and he who
            attempts to walk uprightly or speak honestly, cannot
            rationally calculate upon speedy wealth or preferment."
            A sad lesson, to be sure, for one so young
            to learn so thoroughly. Perhaps some reader will
            say that this was cynical, the result of disappointment.
            But it was not cynical, neither was it the result
            of disappointment. It was unvarnished truth,
            and more's the pity, but truth it was none the less.
            It was one of those hard facts, which he of all men,
            needed to know at the threshold of his experience
            with the world. Such a revelation proves disastrous
            to the many who go down to do business in that
            world. Ordinary and weak and neutral moral constitutions
            are wrecked on this reef set in the human
            sea. Like a true mariner he had written it boldly on
            his chart. There at such and such a point in the voyage
            for the golden fleece, were the rocks and the
            soul-devouring
            dragons of the way. Therefore, oh! my
            soul, beware. What, indeed, would this argonaut of
            the press take in exchange for his soul? Certainly
            not speedy wealth nor preferment. Ah! he could
            not praise where he ought to reprobate; could not
            reprobate where praise should be the meed. He had
            no money and little learning, but he had a conscience
            and he knew that he must be true to that conscience,
            come to him either weal or woe. Want renders
            most men vulnerable, but to it, he appeared, at this
            early age, absolutely invulnerable. Should he and
            that almost omnipotent inquisitor, public opinion,
            ever in the future come into collision upon any principle
            <a class="newpage" name="P_033" id="P_033" title="P_033"></a>
            of action, a keen student of human nature
            might forsee that the young recusant could never be
            starved into silence or conformity to popular
            standards. And with this stern, sad lesson treasured
            up in his heart, Garrison graduated from another
            room in the school-house of experience. All the discoveries
            of the young journalist were not of this
            grim character. He made another discovery altogether
            different, a real gem of its kind. The drag-net
            of a newspaper catches all sorts of poets and
            poetry, good, bad, and indifferent&#8212;oftener the bad
            and indifferent, rarely the good. The drag-net of the
            <i>Free Press</i> was no exception to this rule; but,
            one day, it fetched up from the depths of the hard commonplaces
            of our New England town life a genuine
            pearl. We will let Mr. Garrison tell the story in his
            own way:

         </p>
         <blockquote>
            <p>
               "Going up-stairs to my office, one day, I observed
               a letter lying near the door, to my address; which, on
               opening, I found to contain an original piece of poetry
               for my paper, the <i>Free Press</i>. The ink was very
               pale, the handwriting very small; and, having at that
               time a horror of newspaper original poetry&#8212;which
               has rather increased than diminished with the lapse
               of time&#8212;my first impulse was to tear it in pieces,
               without reading it; the chances of rejection, after its
               perusal, being as ninety-nine to one; ... but summoning
               resolution to read it, I was equally surprised
               and gratified to find it above mediocrity, and so gave
               it a place in my journal.... As I was anxious to
               find out the writer, my post-rider, one day, divulged
               the secret, stating that he had dropped the letter in
               the manner described, and that it was written by a
               <a class="newpage" name="P_034" id="P_034" title="P_034"></a>
               Quaker lad, named Whittier, who was daily at work
               on the shoemaker's bench, with hammer and lapstone,
               at East Haverhill. Jumping into a vehicle, I
               lost no time in driving to see the youthful rustic
               bard, who came into the room with shrinking diffidence,
               almost unable to speak, and blushing like a
               maiden. Giving him some words of encouragement,
               I addressed myself more particularly to his parents,
               and urged them with great earnestness to grant him
               every possible facility for the development of his
               remarkable genius."

            </p>
         </blockquote>
         <p>
            Garrison had not only found a true poet, but a true
            friend as well, in the Quaker lad, John Greenleaf
            Whittier. The friendship which sprang up between
            the two was to last during the lifetime of the
            former. Neither of them in those days of small
            things could have possibly by any flight of the imagination
            foreseen how their two lives, moving in parallel
            lines, would run deep their shining furrows
            through one of the greatest chapters of human history.
            But I am anticipating, and that is a vice of
            which no good storyteller ought to be guilty. So,
            then, let me incontinently return from this excursion
            and pursue the even tenor of my tale.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison had stepped down from his elevated position
            as the publisher and editor of the <i>Free Press</i>.
            He was without work, and, being penniless, it behooved
            him to find some means of support. With
            the instinct of the bright New England boy, he determined
            to seek his fortunes in Boston. If his honesty
            and independence put him at a disadvantage, as publisher
            and editor, in the struggle for existence, he
            had still his trade as a compositor to fall back upon
            <a class="newpage" name="P_035" id="P_035" title="P_035"></a>
            As a journeyman printer he would earn his bread,
            and preserve the integrity of an upright spirit. And
            so without a murmur, and with cheerfulness and persistency,
            he hunted for weeks on the streets of Boston
            for a chance to set types. This hunting for a job in
            a strange city was discouraging enough. Twice before
            had he visited the place, which was to be his
            future home. Once when on his way to Baltimore
            to see his mother, and once afterward when on a sort
            of pleasure tramp with three companions. But the
            slight knowledge which he was able to obtain of the
            town and its inhabitants under these circumstances
            did not now help him, when from office to office he
            went in quest of something to do. After many failures
            and renewed searchings, he found what he was
            after, an opportunity to practice his trade. Business
            was dull, which kept our journeyman printer on the
            wing; first at one and then at another printing office
            we find him setting types for a living during the
            year 1827. The winning of bread was no easy matter;
            but he was not ashamed to work, neither was he
            afraid of hard work. During this year, he found
            time to take a hand in a little practical politics.
            There was in July, 1827, a caucus of the Federal party
            to nominate a successor to Daniel Webster in the
            House of Representatives. Young Garrison attended
            this caucus, and made havoc of its cut and dried programme,
            by moving the nomination of Harrison
            Gray Otis, instead of the candidate, a Mr. Benjamin
            Gorham, agreed upon by the leaders. Harrison Gray
            Otis was one of Garrison's early and particular idols.
            He was, perhaps, the one Massachusetts politician
            whom the young Federalist had placed on a
            <a class="newpage" name="P_036" id="P_036" title="P_036"></a>
            pedestal. And so on this occasion he went into the
            caucus with a written speech in his hat, eulogistic of
            his favorite. He had meant to have the speech at
            his tongue's end, and to get it off as if on the spur
            of the moment. But the speech stayed where it was
            put, in the speaker's hat, and failed to materialize
            where and when it was wanted on the speaker's
            tongue. As the mountain would not go to Mahomet,
            Mahomet like a sensible prophet went to the mountain.
            Our orator in imitation of this illustrious
            example, bowed to the inevitable and went to his
            mountain. Pulling his extempore remarks out of his
            hat, he delivered himself of them to such effect as to
            create quite an Otis sentiment in the meeting. This
            performance was, of course, a shocking offence in the
            eyes of those, whose plans it had disturbed. With
            one particular old fogy he got into something of a
            newspaper controversy in consequence. The "consummate
            assurance" of one so young fairly knocked
            the breath out of this Mr. Eminent Respectability;
            it was absolutely revolting to all his "ideas of propriety,
            to see a stranger, a man who never paid a tax
            in our city, and perhaps no where else, to possess the
            impudence to take the lead and nominate a candidate
            for the electors of Boston!" The "young gentleman
            of six months standing," was not a whit abashed or
            awed by the commotion which he had produced.
            That was simply a case of cause and effect. But he
            seemed in turn astonished at his opponent's evident
            ignorance of William Lloyd Garrison. "It is true,"
            he replied, with the proud dignity of conscious power,
            "it is true that my acquaintance in this city is limited.
            I have sought none. Let me assure him, however,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_037" id="P_037" title="P_037"></a>
            that if my life be spared, my name shall one
            day be known to the world&#8212;at least to such extent
            that common inquiry shall be unnecessary. This, I
            know will be deemed excessive vanity&#8212;but time
            shall prove it prophetic." To the charge of youth
            he makes this stinging rejoinder, which evinces the
            progress he was making in the tournament of language:
            "The little, paltry sneers at my youth by
            your correspondent have long since become pointless.
            It is the privileged abuse of old age&#8212;the
            hackneyed allegation of a thousand centuries&#8212;the
            damning <em>crime</em> to which all men have been subjected.
            I leave it to metaphysicians to determine the precise
            moment when wisdom and experience leap into existence,
            when, for the first time, the mind distinguishes
            truth from error, selfishness from patriotism, and
            passion from reason. It is sufficient for me that I am
            understood." This was Garrison's first experience with
            "gentlemen of property and standing" in Boston.
            It was not his last, as future chapters will abundantly
            show.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_038" id="P_038" title="P_038"></a></p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap2"></a>
            CHAPTER II.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            THE MAN HEARS A VOICE: SAMUEL, SAMUEL!

         </h2>
         <p>
            There is a moment in the life of every serious soul,
            when things, which were before unseen and unheard
            in the world around him become visible and audible.
            This startling moment comes to some sooner, to others
            later, but to all, who are not totally given up to the
            service of self, at sometime surely. From that moment
            a change passes over such an one, for more and
            more he hears mysterious voices, and clearer and
            more clear he sees apparitional forms floating up
            from the depths above which he kneels. Whence
            come they, what mean they? He leans over the
            abyss, and lo! the sounds to which he hearkens are
            the voices of human weeping and the forms at which
            he gazes are the apparitions of human woe; they
            beckon to him, and the voices beseech him in multitudinous
            accent and heart-break: "Come over, come
            down, oh! friend and brother, and help us." Then
            he straightway puts away the things and the thoughts
            of the past and girding himself with the things, and
            the thoughts of the divine OUGHT and the almighty
            MUST, he goes over and down to the rescue.

         </p>
         <p>
            Such an epochal first moment came to William
            Lloyd Garrison in the streets of Boston. Amid the
            hard struggle for bread he heard the abysmal voices,
            saw the gaunt forms of misery. He was a constant
            <a class="newpage" name="P_039" id="P_039" title="P_039"></a>
            witness of the ravages of the demon of drink&#8212;saw
            how strong men succumbed, and weak ones turned to
            brutes in its clutch. And were they not his brothers,
            the strong men and the weak ones alike? And how
            could he, their keeper, see them desperately beset
            and not fly to their help? Ah! he could not and did
            not walk by on the other side, but, stripling though
            he was, rushed to do battle with the giant vice, which
            was slaying the souls and the bodies of his fellow
            citizens. Rum during the three first decades of the
            present century was, like death, no respecter of persons,
            entering with equal freedom the homes of the
            rich, and the hovels of the poor. It was in universal
            demand by all classes and conditions of men. No
            occasion was esteemed too sacred for its presence and
            use. It was an honored guest at a wedding, a christening,
            or a funeral. The minister whose hands were
            laid in baptismal blessing on babes, or raised in the
            holy sacrament of love over brides, lifted also the
            glass; and the selfsame lips which had spoken the
            last words over the dead, drank and made merry
            presently afterward among the decanters on the
            side-board.
            It mattered not for what the building was
            intended&#8212;whether for church, school, or parsonage,
            rum was the grand master of ceremonies, the indispensable
            celebrant at the various stages of its completion.
            The party who dug the parson out after a
            snow-storm, verily got their reward, a sort of prelibation
            of the visionary sweets of that land, flowing
            not, according to the Jewish notion, with milk and
            <em>honey</em>, but according to the revised version of Yankeedom,
            with milk and <em>rum</em>. Rum was, forsooth, a
            very decent devil, if judged by the exalted character
            <a class="newpage" name="P_040" id="P_040" title="P_040"></a>
            of the company it kept. It stood high on the rungs
            of the social ladder and pulled and pushed men from
            it by thousands to wretchedness and ruin. So flagrant
            and universal was the drinking customs of Boston then
            that dealers offered on the commons during holidays,
            without let or hindrance, the drunkard's glass to
            the crowds thronging by extemporized booths and
            bars. Shocking as was the excesses of this period
            "nothing comparatively was heard on the subject of
            intemperance&#8212;it was seldom a theme for the essayist&#8212;the
            newspapers scarcely acknowledged its existence,
            excepting occasionally in connection with some
            catastrophes or crimes&#8212;the Christian and patriot,
            while they perceived its ravages, formed no plans for
            its overthrow&#8212;and it did not occur to any that a
            paper devoted mainly to its suppression, might be
            made a direct and successful engine in the great
            work of reform. Private expostulations and individual
            confessions were indeed sometimes made; but
            no systematic efforts were adopted to give precision
            to the views or a bias to the sentiments of the
            people." Such was the state of public morals and
            the state of public sentiment up to the year 1826,
            when there occurred a change. This change was
            brought about chiefly through the instrumentality
            of a Baptist city missionary, the Rev. William
            Collier. His labors among the poor of Boston had
            doubtless revealed to him the bestial character of
            intemperance, and the necessity of doing something
            to check and put an end to the havoc it was working.
            With this design he established the <i>National
               Philanthropist</i> in Boston, March 4, 1826. The editor
            was one of Garrison's earliest acquaintances in the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_041" id="P_041" title="P_041"></a>
            city. Garrison went after awhile to board with him,
            and still later entered the office of the
            <i>Philanthropist</i>
            as a type-setter. The printer of the paper, Nathaniel
            H. White and young Garrison, occupied the same
            room at Mr. Collier's. And so almost before our
            hero was aware, he had launched his bark upon the
            sea of the temperance reform. Presently, when the
            founder of the paper retired, it seemed the most
            natural thing in the world, that the young journeyman
            printer, with his editorial experience and ability,
            should succeed him as editor. His room-mate,
            White, bought the <i>Philanthropist</i>, and in April
            1828, formally installed Garrison into its editorship. Into
            this new work he carried all his moral earnestness
            and enthusiasm of purpose. The paper grew under
            his hand in size, typographical appearance, and in
            editorial force and capacity. It was a wide-awake
            sentinel on the wall of society; and week after
            week its columns bristled and flashed with apposite
            facts, telling arguments, shrewd suggestions, cogent
            appeals to the community to destroy the accursed
            thing. No better education could he have had as
            the preparation for his life work. He began to
            understand then the strength of deep-seated public
            evils, to acquaint himself with the methods and instruments
            with which to attack them. The <i>Philanthropist</i>
            was a sort of forerunner, so far as the training
            in intelligent and effective agitation was concerned,
            of the <i>Genius of Universal Emancipation</i> and
            of the <i>Liberator</i>. One cannot read his sketch of
            the progress made by the temperance reform, from
            which I have already quoted, and published by him
            in the <i>Philanthropist</i> in April, 1828, without
            being
            <a class="newpage" name="P_042" id="P_042" title="P_042"></a>
            struck by the strong similitude of the temperance
            to the anti-slavery movement in their beginnings.
            "When this paper was first proposed," the young
            temperance editor records, "it met with a repulsion
            which would have utterly discouraged a less zealous
            and persevering man than our predecessor. The
            moralist looked on doubtfully&#8212;the whole community
            esteemed the enterprise desperate. Mountains of
            prejudice, overtopping the Alps, were to be beaten
            down to a level&#8212;strong interest, connected by a
            thousand links, severed&#8212;new habits formed; Every
            house, and almost every individual, in a greater or
            less degree, reclaimed. Derision and contumely
            were busy in crushing this sublime project in its
            birth&#8212;coldness and apathy encompassed it on every
            side&#8212;but our predecessor, nevertheless, went boldly
            forward with a giant's strength and more than a
            giant's heart&#8212;conscious of difficulties and perils,
            though not disheartened, armed with the weapons
            of truth&#8212;full of meekness, yet certain of a splendid
            victory&#8212;and relying on the promises of God for
            the issue." What an inestimable object-lesson to
            Garrison was the example of this good man going
            forth singlehanded to do battle with one of the
            greatest evils of the age! It was not numerical
            strength, but the faith of one earnest soul that is
            able in the world of ideas and human passions to remove
            mountains out of the way of the onward march
            of mankind. This truth, we may be sure, sunk many
            fathoms deep into the mind of the young moralist.
            And no wonder. For the results of two years agitation
            and seed sowing were of the most astonishing
            character. "The change which has taken place in
            <a class="newpage" name="P_043" id="P_043" title="P_043"></a>
            public sentiment," he continues, "is indeed remarkable ... incorporated
            as intemperance <em>was</em>, and
            still <em>is</em>, into our very existence as a people....
            A regenerating spirit is everywhere seen; a
            strong impulse to action has been given, which, beginning
            in the breasts of a few individuals, and
            then affecting villages, and cities, and finally whole
            States, has rolled onward triumphantly through the
            remotest sections of the republic. As union and
            example are the levers adopted to remove this gigantic
            vice, temperance societies have been rapidly
            multiplied, many on the principle of entire abstinence,
            and others making it a duty to abstain from
            encouraging the distillation and consumption of
            spirituous liquors. Expressions of the deep abhorrence
            and sympathy which are felt in regard to the
            awful prevalence of drunkenness are constantly
            emanating from legislative bodies down to various
            religious conventions, medical associations, grand
            juries, etc., etc. But nothing has more clearly
            evinced the strength of this excitement than the
            general interest taken in this subject by the conductors
            of the press. From Maine to the Mississippi,
            and as far as printing has penetrated&#8212;even among
            the Cherokee Indians&#8212;but one sentiment seems to
            pervade the public papers, viz., the necessity of
            strenuous exertion for the suppression of intemperance."
            Such a demonstration of the tremendous
            power of a single righteous soul for good, we may
            be sure, exerted upon Garrison lasting influences.
            What a revelation it was also of the transcendent
            part which the press was capable of playing in the
            revolution of popular sentiment upon moral questions;
            <a class="newpage" name="P_044" id="P_044" title="P_044"></a>
            and of the supreme service of organization
            as a factor in reformatory movements. The seeds
            sowed were faith in the convictions of one man against
            the opinions, the prejudices, and the practices of the
            multitude; and knowledge of and skill in the use of
            the instruments by which the individual conscience
            may be made to correct and renovate the moral
            sense of a nation. But there was another seed corn
            dropped at this time in his mind, and that is the
            immense utility of woman in the work of regenerating
            society. She it is who feels even more than man the
            effects of social vices and sins, and to her the moral reformer
            should strenuously appeal for aid. And this,
            with the instinct of genius, Garrison did in the
            temperance reform, nearly seventy years ago. His editorials in the
            <i>Philanthropist</i> in the year 1828 on
            "Female Influence" may be said to be the <i>courier
               avant</i> of the Woman's Christian Temperance Union
            of to-day, as they were certainly the precursors of the
            female anti-slavery societies of a few years later.

         </p>
         <p>
            But now, without his knowing it, a stranger from
            a distant city entered Boston with a message,
            which was to change the whole purpose of the young
            editor's life. It was Benjamin Lundy, the indefatigable
            friend of the Southern slave, the man who
            carried within his breast the whole menagerie of
            Southern slavery. He was fresh from the city
            which held the dust of Fanny Garrison, who had
            once written to her boy in Newburyport, how the
            good God had cared for her in the person of a
            colored woman. Yes, she had written: "The ladies
            are all kind to me, and I have a colored woman that
            waits on me, that is so kind no one can tell how kind
            <a class="newpage" name="P_045" id="P_045" title="P_045"></a>
            she is; and although a slave to man, yet a free-born
            soul, by the grace of God. Her name is Henny,
            and should I never see you again, and you should
            come where she is, remember her, for your poor
            mother's sake." And now, without his dreaming of
            it, this devoted Samaritan in black, who, perhaps,
            had long ago joined her dear friend in the grave, was
            coming to that very boy, now grown to manhood, to
            claim for her race what the mother had asked for
            her, the kind slave-woman. Not one of all those little
            ones of the nation but who had a home in the
            many-mansioned
            heart of Lundy. He had been an eye and
            ear witness of the barbarism of slavery. "My
            heart," he sobbed, "was deeply grieved at the gross
            abomination; I heard the wail of the captive; I felt
            his pang of distress, and the iron entered my soul."
            With apostolic faith and zeal he had for a decade
            been striving to free the captive, and to tie up his
            bruised spirit. Sadly, but with a great love, he had
            gone about the country on his self-imposed task.
            To do this work he had given up the business of a
            saddler, in which he had prospered, had sacrificed
            his possessions, and renounced the ease that comes
            with wealth; had courted unheard-of hardships,
            and wedded himself for better and worse to poverty
            and unremitting endeavor. Nothing did he esteem too
            dear to relinquish for the slave. Neither wife nor
            children did he withhold. Neither the summer's
            heat nor the winter's cold was able to daunt him or
            turn him from his object. Though diminutive and
            delicate of body, no distance or difficulty of travel
            was ever able to deter him from doing what his
            humanity had bidden him do. From place to place,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_046" id="P_046" title="P_046"></a>
            through nineteen States, he had traveled, sowing as
            he went the seeds of his holy purpose, and watering
            them with his life's blood. Not Livingstone nor
            Stanley on the dark continent exceeded in sheer
            physical exertion and endurance the labors of this
            wonderful man. He belongs in the category of
            great explorers, only the irresistible passion and purpose,
            which pushed him forward, had humanity, not
            geography, as their goal. Where, in the lives of
            either Stanley or Livingstone do we find a record of
            more astonishing activity and achievement than what
            is contained in these sentences, written by Garrison
            of Lundy, in the winter of 1828? "Within a few
            months he has traveled about twenty-four hundred
            miles, of which upwards of nineteen hundred were
            performed <em>on foot!</em> during which time he has held
            nearly fifty public meetings. Rivers and mountains
            vanish in his path; midnight finds him wending his
            solitary way over an unfrequented road; the sun is
            anticipated in his rising. Never was moral sublimity
            of character better illustrated." Such was the
            marvelous man, whose visit to Boston, in the month
            of March, of the year 1828, dates the beginning of a
            new epoch in the history of America. The event of
            that year was not the "Bill of Abominations," great
            as was the national excitement which it produced;
            nor was it yet the then impending political struggle
            between Jackson and Adams, but the unnoticed
            meeting of Lundy and Garrison. Great historic
            movements are born not in the whirlwinds, the earthquakes,
            and the pomps of human splendor and
            power, but in the agonies and enthusiasms of grand,
            heroic spirits. Up to this time Garrison had had, as
            <a class="newpage" name="P_047" id="P_047" title="P_047"></a>
            the religious revivalist would say, no "realizing
            sense" of the enormity of slave-holding. Occasionally
            an utterance had dropped from his pen which
            indicated that his heart was right on the subject, but
            which evinced no more than the ordinary opposition
            to its existence, nor any profound convictions as to
            his own or the nation's duty in regard to its extinction.
            His first reference to the question appeared in
            connection with a notice made by him in the <i>Free
               Press</i> of a spirited poem, entitled "Africa," in which
            the authoress sings of:

         </p>
         <div class="lg">"The wild and mingling groans of writhing millions,<br>Calling for vengeance on my guilty land."<br><br></div>
         <p>
            He commended the verses "to all those who wish to
            cherish female genius, and whose best feelings are
            enlisted in the cause of the poor oppressed sons of
            Africa." He was evidently impressed, but the impression
            belonged to the ordinary, transitory sort. His
            next recorded utterance on the subject was also in
            the <i>Free Press</i>. It was made in relation with some
            just and admirable strictures on the regulation Fourth
            of July oration, with its "ceaseless apostrophes to
            liberty, and fierce denunciations of tyranny." Such
            a tone was false and mischievous&#8212;the occasion was
            for other and graver matter. "There is one theme,"
            he declares, "which should be dwelt upon, till our
            whole country is free from the curse&#8212;it is slavery."
            The emphasis and energy of the rebuke and exhortation
            lifts this second allusion to slavery, quite outside
            of merely ordinary occurrences. It was not an ordinary
            personal occurrence for it served to reveal in its
            lightning-like flash the glow and glare of a conscience
            taking fire. The fire slumbered until a few weeks
            <a class="newpage" name="P_048" id="P_048" title="P_048"></a>
            before Lundy entered Boston, when there were again
            the glow and glare of a moral sense in the first stages
            of ignition on the enormity of slave institutions. The
            act of South Carolina in making it illegal to teach a
            colored person to read and write struck this spark
            from his pen: "There is something unspeakably
            pitiable and alarming," he writes in the
            <i>Philanthropist</i>,
            "in the state of that society where it is deemed necessary,
            for self-preservation, to seal up the mind and
            debase the intellect of man to brutal incapacity....
            Truly the alternatives of oppression are terrible. But
            this state of things cannot always last, nor ignorance
            alone shield us from destruction." His interest in the
            question was clearly growing. But it was still in the
            gristle of sentiment waiting to be transmuted into
            the bone and muscle of a definite and determined purpose,
            when first he met Lundy. This meeting of the
            two men, was to Garrison what the fourth call of God
            was to Samuel, the Hebrew lad, who afterward became
            a prophet. As the three previous calls of God and
            the conversations with Eli had prepared the Jewish
            boy to receive and understand the next summons of
            Jehovah, so had Garrison's former experience and
            education made him ready for the divine message
            when uttered in his ears by Lundy. All the sense of
            truth and the passion for righteousness of the young
            man replied to the voice, "Here am I." The hardening
            process of growth became immediately manifest
            in him. Whereas before there was sentimental opposition
            to slavery, there began then an opposition,
            active and practical. When Lundy convened many
            of the ministers of the city to expose to them the barbarism
            of slavery, Garrison sat in the room, and as
            <a class="newpage" name="P_049" id="P_049" title="P_049"></a>
            Lundy himself records, "expressed his approbation
            of my doctrines." The young reformer must needs
            stand up and make public profession of his new faith
            and of his agreement with the anti-slavery principles
            of the older. But it was altogether different with the
            assembled ministers. Lundy, as was his wont on
            such occasions, desired and urged the formation of an
            anti-slavery society, but these sons of Eli of that generation
            were not willing to offend their slave-holding
            brethren in the South. Eyes they had, but they
            refused to see; ears, which they stopped to the cry of
            the slave breaking in anguish and appeal from the
            lips of this modern man of God. Garrison, eleven
            years later, after the lips, which were eloquent then
            with their great sorrow, were speechless in the grave,
            told the story of that ministers' meeting. And
            here is the story:

         </p>
         <p>
            "He (Lundy) might as well have urged the stones
            in the streets to cry out in behalf of the perishing
            captives. Oh, the moral cowardice, the chilling apathy,
            the criminal unbelief, the cruel skepticism, that
            were revealed on that memorable occasion! My soul
            was on fire then, as it is now, in view of such a development.
            Every soul in the room was heartily
            opposed to slavery, but, it would terribly alarm and
            enrage the South to know that an anti-slavery society
            existed in Boston. But it would do harm rather than
            good openly to agitate the subject. But <em>perhaps a
               select</em> committee might be formed, to be called by some
            name that would neither give offence, nor excite suspicion
            as to its real design! One or two only were
            for bold and decisive action; but as they had neither
            station nor influence, and did not rank among the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_050" id="P_050" title="P_050"></a>
            wise and prudent, their opinion did not weigh very
            heavily, and the project was finally abandoned. Poor
            Lundy! that meeting was a damper to his feelings."
            There is no doubt that Garrison was one of the very
            few present, who "were for bold and decisive action"
            against the iniquity. The grief and disappointment
            of his brave friend touched his heart with a brother's
            affection and pity. The worldly wisdom and lukewarmness
            of the clergy kindled a righteous indignation
            within his freedom-loving soul. This was his
            first bitter lesson from the clergy. There were, alas,
            many and bitterer experiences to follow, but of them
            he little recked at the time. As this nineteenth-century
            prophet mused upon the horrible thing the fires
            of a life purpose burned within him. And oftener
            thenceforth we catch glimpses of the glow and glare
            of a soul bursting into flame. The editorials in the
            <i>Philanthropist</i>, which swiftly followed Lundy's
            visit, began to throw off more heat as the revolving wheels
            of an electrical machine throw off sparks. The evil
            that there was in the world, under which, wherever he
            turned, he saw his brother man staggering and bleeding,
            was no longer what it had been, a vague and
            shadowy apparition, but rather a terrible and tremendous
            reality against which he must go forth to fight
            the fight of a lifetime. And so he girded him with his
            life purpose and flung his moral earnestness against
            the triple-headed curse of intemperance, slavery, and
            war. A mighty human love had begun to flow
            inward and over him. And as the tide steadily rose
            it swallowed and drowned all the egoism of self and
            race in the altruism of an all-embracing humanity.
            When an apprentice in the office of the Newburyport
            <a class="newpage" name="P_051" id="P_051" title="P_051"></a><i>Herald</i>, and writing on the subject of South
            American affairs he grew hot over the wrongs suffered by
            American vessels at Valparaiso and Lima. He was
            for finishing "with cannon what cannot be done in a
            conciliatory and equitable manner, where justice
            demands such proceedings." This was at seventeen
            when he was a boy with the thoughts of a boy. Six
            years later he is a man who has looked upon the sorrows
            of men. His old boy-world is far behind him,
            and the ever-present sufferings of his kind are in
            front of him. War now is no longer glorious, for it
            adds immeasurably to the sum of human misery.
            War ought to be abolished with intemperance and
            slavery. And this duty he began to utter in the ears
            of his country. "The brightest traits in the American
            character will derive their luster, not from the laurels
            picked from the field of blood, not from the magnitude
            of our navy and the success of our arms," he
            proclaimed, "but from our exertions to banish war
            from the earth, to stay the ravages of intemperance
            among all that is beautiful and fair, to unfetter those
            who have been enthralled by chains, which we have
            forged, and to spread the light of knowledge and
            religious liberty, wherever darkness and superstition
            reign.... The struggle is full of sublimity, the conquest
            embraces the world." Lundy himself did not
            fully appreciate the immense gain, which his cause
            had made in the conversion of Garrison into an active
            friend of the slave. Not at once certainly. Later he
            knew. The discovery of a kindred spirit in Boston
            exerted probably no little influence in turning for the
            second time his indefatigable feet toward that city.
            He made it a second visit in July, 1828, where again
            <a class="newpage" name="P_052" id="P_052" title="P_052"></a>
            he met Garrison. His experience with the ministers
            did not deter him from repeating the horrible tale
            wherever he could get together an audience. This
            time he secured his first public hearing in Boston.
            It was in the Federal Street Baptist Church. He
            spoke not only on the subject of slavery itself, the
            growth of anti-slavery societies, but on a new phase
            of the general subject, viz., the futility of the Colonization
            Society as an abolition instrument. Garrison
            was present, and treasured up in his heart the words
            of his friend. He did not forget how Lundy had
            pressed upon his hearers the importance of petitioning
            Congress for the abolition of slavery in the District
            of Columbia, as we shall see further on. But
            poor Lundy was unfortunate with the ministers. He
            got this time not the cold shoulder alone but a clerical
            slap in the face as well. He had just sat down
            when the pastor of the church, Rev. Howard Malcolm,
            uprose in wrath and inveighed against any intermeddling
            of the North with slavery, and brought the
            meeting with a high hand to a close. This incident
            was the first collision with the church of the forlorn
            hope of the Abolition movement. Trained as Garrison
            was in the orthodox creed and sound in that creed
            almost to bigotry, this behavior of a standard-bearer
            of the church, together with the apathy displayed by
            the clergy on a former occasion, caused probably the
            first "little rift within the lute" of his creed, "that
            by and by will make the music mute, and, ever widening,
            slowly silence all." For in religion as in love,
            "Unfaith in aught is want of faith in all." The Rev.
            Howard Malcolm's arbitrary proceeding had prevented
            the organization of an anti-slavery committee.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_053" id="P_053" title="P_053"></a>
            But this was affected at a second meeting of the
            friends of the slave. Garrison was one of the twenty
            gentlemen who were appointed such a committee.
            His zeal and energy far exceeded the zeal and energy
            of the remaining nineteen. He did not need the
            earnest exhortation of Lundy to impress upon his
            memory the importance of "activity and steady perseverance."
            He perceived almost at once that everything
            depended on them. And so he had formed
            plans for a vigorous campaign against the existence
            of slavery in the District of Columbia. But before he
            was ready to set out along the line of work, which he
            had laid down for Massachusetts, the scene of his
            labors shifted to Bennington, Vermont. Before he
            left Boston, Lundy had recognized him as "a valuable
            coadjutor." The relationship between the two men
            was becoming beautifully close. The more Lundy
            saw of Garrison, the more he must have seemed to
            him a man after his own heart. And so no wonder
            that he was solicitous of fastening him to his cause
            with hooks of steel. The older had written the
            younger reformer a letter almost paternal in tone&#8212;he
            must do thus and thus, he must not be disappointed
            if he finds the heavy end of the burthen
            borne by himself, while those associated with him do
            little to keep the wheels moving, he must remember
            that "a few will have the labor to perform and the
            honor to share." Then there creeps into his words a
            grain of doubt, a vague fear lest his young ally should
            take his hands from the plough and go the way of all
            men, and here are the words which Paul might have
            written to Timothy: "I hope you will persevere in
            your work, steadily, but not make too large calculations
            <a class="newpage" name="P_054" id="P_054" title="P_054"></a>
            on what may be accomplished in a particularly
            stated time. You have now girded on a holy warfare.
            Lay not down your weapons until honorable
            terms are obtained. <em>The God of hosts is on your side.</em>
            Steadiness and faithfulness will most assuredly overcome
            every obstacle." The older apostle had yet to
            learn that the younger always did what he undertook
            in the field of morals and philanthropy.

         </p>
         <p>
            But the scene had shifted from Boston to Bennington,
            and with the young reformer goes also his plan
            of campaign for anti-slavery work. The committee
            of twenty, now nineteen since his departure, slumbered
            and slept in the land of benevolent intentions,
            a practical illustration of Lundy's pungent saying,
            that "philanthropists are the slowest creatures breathing.
            They think forty times before they act." The
            committee never acted, but its one member in Vermont
            did act, and that promptly and powerfully as
            shall shortly appear. Garrison had gone to Bennington
            to edit the <i>Journal of the Times</i> in the interest
            of the reelection of John Quincy Adams to the Presidency.
            For this object he was engaged as editor of
            the paper. What he was engaged to do he performed
            faithfully and ably, but along with his fulfillment of
            his contract with the friends of Mr. Adams, he carried
            the one which he had made with humanity likewise.
            In his salutatory he outlined his intentions in
            this regard thus: "We have three objects in view,
            which we shall pursue through life, whether in this
            place or elsewhere&#8212;namely, the suppression of intemperance
            and its associate vices, the gradual emancipation
            of every slave in the republic, and the perpetuity
            of national peace. In discussing these topics
            <a class="newpage" name="P_055" id="P_055" title="P_055"></a>
            what is wanting in vigor shall be made up in zeal."
            From the issue of that first number if the friends of
            Adams had no cause to complain of the character of
            his zeal and vigor in their service, neither had the
            friends of humanity. What he had proposed doing
            in Massachusetts as a member of the anti-slavery
            committee of twenty, he performed with remarkable
            energy and success in Vermont. It was to obtain
            signatures not by the hundred to a petition for the
            abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia, but
            by the thousands, and that from all parts of the State.
            He sent copies of the petition to every postmaster in
            Vermont with the request that he obtain signatures
            in his neighborhood. Through his exertions a public
            meeting of citizens of Bennington was held and indorsed
            the petition. The plan for polling the anti-slavery
            sentiment of the State worked admirably.
            The result was a monster petition with 2,352 names
            appended. This he forwarded to the seat of Government.
            It was a powerful prayer, but as to its effect,
            Garrison had no delusions. He possessed even then
            singularly clear ideas as to how the South would receive
            such petitions, and of the course which it would
            pursue to discourage their presentation. He was no less
            clear as to how the friends of freedom ought to carry
            themselves under the circumstances. In the <i>Journal
               of the Times</i> of November, 1828, he thus expressed
            himself: "It requires no spirit of prophecy to predict
            that it (the petition) will create great opposition.
            An attempt will be made to frighten Northern
            'dough-faces' as in case of the Missouri question.
            There will be an abundance of furious declamation,
            menace, and taunt. Are we, therefore, to approach
            <a class="newpage" name="P_056" id="P_056" title="P_056"></a>
            the subject timidly&#8212;with half a heart&#8212;as if we were
            treading on forbidden ground? No, indeed, but earnestly,
            fearlessly, as becomes men, who are determined
            to clear their country and themselves from the guilt
            of oppressing God's free and lawful creatures."
            About the same time he began to make his assaults
            on the personal representatives of the slave-power in
            Congress, cauterizing in the first instance three
            Northern "dough-faces," who had voted against some
            resolutions, looking to the abolition of the slave-trade
            and slavery itself in the District of Columbia. So
            while the South thus early was seeking to frighten
            the North from the agitation of the slavery question
            in Congress, Garrison was unconsciously preparing
            a countercheck by making it dangerous for a Northern
            man to practice Southern principles in the
            National Legislature. He did not mince his words,
            but called a spade a spade, and sin, sin. He perceived
            at once that if he would kill the sin of slave-holding,
            he could not spare the sinner. And so he
            spoke the names of the delinquents from the housetop
            of the <i>Journal of the Times</i>, stamping upon their
            brows the scarlet letter of their crime against liberty.
            He had said in the October before: "It is time that
            a voice of remonstrance went forth from the North,
            that should peal in the ears of every slaveholder like
            a roar of thunder.... For ourselves, we are resolved
            to agitate this subject to the utmost; nothing but
            death shall prevent us from denouncing a crime which
            has no parallel in human depravity; we shall take
            high ground. <em>The alarm must be perpetual.</em>" A voice
            of remonstrance, with thunder growl accompaniment,
            was rising higher and clearer from the pen of the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_057" id="P_057" title="P_057"></a>
            young editor. His tone of earnestness was deepening
            to the stern bass of the moral reformer, and the
            storm breath of enthusiasm was blowing to a blaze
            the glowing coals of his humanity. The wail of
            the fleeing fugitive from the house of bondage
            sounded no longer far away and unreal in his ears,
            but thrilled now right under the windows of his soul.
            The masonic excitement and the commotion created
            by the abduction of Morgan he caught up and shook
            before the eyes of his countrymen as an object lesson
            of the million-times greater wrong daily done the
            slaves. "All this fearful commotion," he pealed,
            "has arisen from the abduction of <em>one man</em>. More
            than two millions of unhappy beings are groaning out
            their lives in bondage, and scarcely a pulse quickens,
            or a heart leaps, or a tongue pleads in their behalf.
            'Tis a trifling affair, which concerns nobody. Oh!
            for the spirit that rages, to break every fetter of
            oppression!" Such a spirit was fast taking possession
            of the writer.

         </p>
         <p>
            Of this Lundy was well informed. He had not
            lost sight of his young coadjutor, but had watched
            his course with great hope and growing confidence.
            In him he found what he had discovered in no one
            else, anti-slavery activity and perseverance. He had
            often found men who protested loudly their benevolence
            for the negro, but who made not the slightest
            exertion afterward to carry out their good wishes.
            "They will pen a paragraph, perhaps an article, or
            so&#8212;and then&#8212;<em>the subject is exhausted!</em>" It was not so
            with his young friend, the Bennington editor. He
            saw that "argument and useful exertion on the subject
            of African emancipation can never be exhausted
            <a class="newpage" name="P_058" id="P_058" title="P_058"></a>
            until the system of slavery itself be totally annihilated."
            He was faithful among the faithless found
            by Lundy. To reassure his doubting leader, Garrison
            took upon himself publicly a vow of perpetual consecration
            to the slave. "Before God and our country,"
            he declares, "we give our pledge that the liberation
            of the enslaved Africans shall always be uppermost
            in our pursuits. The people of New England are
            interested in this matter, and they must be aroused
            from their lethargy as by a trumpet-call. They shall
            not quietly slumber while we have the management
            of a press, or strength to hold a pen." The question
            of slavery had at length obtained the ascendency
            over all other questions in his regard. And when
            Lundy perceived this he set out from Baltimore to
            Bennington to invite Garrison to join hands with
            him in his emancipation movement at Baltimore.
            He performed the long journey on foot, with staff in
            hand in true apostolic fashion. The two men of
            God met among the mountains of Vermont, and
            when the elder returned from the heights the younger
            had resolved to follow him to the vales where men
            needed his help, the utmost which he could give
            them. He agreed to join his friend in Baltimore and
            there edit with him his little paper with the grand
            name (<i>The Genius of Universal Emancipation</i>),
            devoted to preaching the gospel of the gradual abolishment of
            American slavery. Garrison was to take the position
            of managing editor, and Lundy to look after the subscription
            list. The younger to be resident, the elder
            itinerant partner in the publication of the paper.
            Garrison closed his relations with the <i>Journal of the
               Times</i>, March 27, 1829, and delivered his valedictory
            <a class="newpage" name="P_059" id="P_059" title="P_059"></a>
            to its readers. This valedictory strikes with stern
            hammer-stroke the subject of his thoughts. "Hereafter,"
            it reads, "the editorial charge of this paper
            will devolve on another person. I am invited to
            occupy a broader field, and to engage in a higher
            enterprise; that field embraces the whole country&#8212;that
            enterprise is in behalf of the slave population."

         </p>
         <p>
            "To my apprehension, the subject of slavery
            involves interests of greater moment to our welfare as
            a republic, and demands a more prudent and minute
            investigation than any other which has come before
            the American people since the Revolutionary struggle&#8212;than
            all others which now occupy their attention.
            No body of men on the face of the earth deserve
            their charities, and prayers, and united assistance so
            much as the slaves of this country; and yet they are
            almost entirely neglected. It is true many a cheek
            burns with shame in view of our national inconsistency,
            and many a heart bleeds for the miserable
            African. It is true examples of disinterested benevolence
            and individual sacrifices are numerous, particularly
            in the Southern States; but no systematic,
            vigorous, and successful measures have been made to
            overthrow this fabric of oppression. I trust in God
            that I may be the humble instrument of breaking at
            least one chain, and restoring one captive to liberty;
            it will amply repay a life of severe toil." The causes
            of temperance and peace came in also for an earnest
            parting word, but they had clearly declined to a
            place of secondary importance in the writer's regard.
            To be more exact, they had not really declined, but
            the slavery question had risen in his mind above both.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_060" id="P_060" title="P_060"></a>
            They were great questions, but it was <em>the</em> question&#8212;had
            become <em>his</em> cause.

         </p>
         <p>
            Lundy, after his visit to Garrison at Bennington,
            started on a trip to Hayti with twelve emancipated
            slaves, whom he had undertaken to colonize
            there. Garrison awaited in Boston the return of his
            partner to Baltimore. The former, meanwhile, was
            out of employment, and sorely in need of money.
            Never had he been favored with a surplusage of the
            root of all evil. He was deficient in the money-getting
            and money-saving instinct. Such was plainly
            not his vocation, and so it happened that wherever he
            turned, he and poverty walked arm in arm, and the
            interrogatory, "wherewithal shall I be fed and
            clothed on the morrow?" was never satisfactorily
            answered until the morrow arrived. This led him at
            times into no little embarrassment and difficulty. But
            since he was always willing to work at the case,
            and to send his "pride on a pilgrimage to Mecca,"
            the embarrassment was not protracted, nor did the
            difficulty prove insuperable.

         </p>
         <p>
            The Congregational societies of Boston invited
            him in June to deliver before them a Fourth of July
            address in the interest of the Colonization Society.
            The exercises took place in Park Street Church. Ten
            days before this event he was called upon to pay a
            bill of four dollars for failure to appear at the May
            muster. Refusing to do so, he was thereupon summoned
            to come into the Police Court on the glorious
            Fourth to show cause why he ought not to pay the
            amercement. He was in a quandary. He did not
            owe the money, but as he could not be in two places
            at the same time, and, inasmuch as he wanted very
            <a class="newpage" name="P_061" id="P_061" title="P_061"></a>
            much to deliver his address before the Congregational
            Societies, and did not at all long to make the acquaintance
            of his honor, the Police Court Judge, he
            determined to pay the fine. But, alack and alas! he
            had "not a farthing" with which to discharge him
            from his embarrassment. Fortunately, if he wanted
            money he did not want friends. And one of these,
            Jacob Horton, of Newburyport, who had married
            his "old friend and playmate, Harriet Farnham,"
            came to his rescue with the requisite amount.

         </p>
         <p>
            On the day and place appointed Garrison appeared
            before the Congregational Societies with an address,
            to the like of which, it is safe to say, they had never
            before listened. It was the Fourth of July, but the
            orator was in no holiday humor. There was not, in
            a single sentence of the oration the slightest endeavor
            to be playful with his audience. It was rather
            an eruption of human suffering, and of the humanity
            of one man to man. What the Boston clergy saw
            that afternoon, in the pulpit of Park Street Church,
            was the vision of a soul on fire. Garrison burned
            and blazed as the sun that July afternoon burned
            and blazed in the city's streets. None without
            escaped the scorching rays of the latter, none within
            was able to shun the fervid heat of the former.
            Those of my readers who have watched the effects
            of the summer's sun on a track of sandy land and
            have noted how, about midday, the heat seems to
            rise in sparkling particles and exhalations out of the
            hot, surcharged surface, can form some notion of the
            moral fervor and passion of this Fourth of July address,
            delivered more than sixty years ago, in Boston.
            Through all the pores of it, over all the length and
            <a class="newpage" name="P_062" id="P_062" title="P_062"></a>
            breadth of it, there went up bright, burning particles
            from the sunlit sympathy and humanity of the young
            reformer.

         </p>
         <p>
            In beginning, he animadverted, among other
            things, on the spread of intemperance, of political
            corruption, on the profligacy of the press, and, amid
            them all, the self-complacency and boastfulness of
            the national spirit, as if it bore a charmed life.

         </p>
         <p>
            "But," he continued, "there is another evil which,
            if we had to contend against nothing else, should
            make us quake for the issue. It is a gangrene preying
            upon our vitals&#8212;an earthquake rumbling under
            our feet&#8212;a mine accumulating material for a national
            catastrophe. It should make this a day of fasting
            and prayer, not of boisterous merriment and idle
            pageantry&#8212;a day of great lamentation, not of congratulatory
            joy. It should spike every cannon, and
            haul down every banner. Our garb should be sack-cloth&#8212;our
            heads bowed in the dust&#8212;our supplications
            for the pardon and assistance of Heaven.

         </p>
         <p>
            "Sirs, I am not come to tell you that slavery is a
            curse, debasing in its effects, cruel in its operations,
            fatal in its continuance. The day and the occasion
            require no such revelation. I do not claim the discovery
            as my own, that 'all men are born equal,' and
            that among their inalienable rights are 'life, liberty,
            and the pursuit of happiness.' Were I addressing any
            other than a free and Christian assembly, the enforcement
            of this truth might be pertinent. Neither do I
            intend to analyze the horrors of slavery for your
            inspection, nor to freeze your blood with authentic
            recitals of savage cruelty. Nor will time allow me to
            explore even a furlong of that immense wilderness of
            <a class="newpage" name="P_063" id="P_063" title="P_063"></a>
            suffering which remains unsubdued in our land. I
            take it for granted that the existence of these evils is
            acknowledged, if not rightly understood. My object
            is to define and enforce our duty, as Christians and
            philanthropists."

         </p>
         <p>
            This was, by way of exordium, the powerful skirmish
            line of the address. Assuming the existence of
            the evil, he advanced boldly to his theme, viz., the
            duty of abolishing it. To this end he laid down four
            propositions, as a skillful general plants his cannon
            on the heights overlooking and commanding his
            enemies' works. The first, broadly stated, asserted
            the kinship of the slave to the free population of the
            republic. They were men; they were natives of the
            country; they were in dire need. They were ignorant,
            degraded, morally and socially. They were the
            heathen at home, whose claims far outranked those
            in foreign lands; they were higher than those of the
            "Turks or Chinese, for they have the privileges of
            instruction; higher than the Pagans, for they are not
            dwellers in a Gospel land; higher than our red men
            of the forest, for we do not bind them with gyves,
            nor treat them as chattels."

         </p>
         <p>
            Then he turned hotly upon the Church, exclaiming:
            "What has Christianity done by direct effort for
            our slave population? Comparatively nothing. She
            has explored the isles of the ocean for objects of
            commiseration; but, amazing stupidity! she can gaze
            without emotion on a multitude of miserable beings
            at home, large enough to constitute a nation of freemen,
            whom tyranny has heathenized by law. In her
            public services they are seldom remembered, and in
            her private donations they are forgotten. From one
            <a class="newpage" name="P_064" id="P_064" title="P_064"></a>
            end of the country to the other her charitable societies
            form golden links of benevolence, and scatter
            their contributions like rain drops over a parched
            heath; but they bring no sustenance to the perishing
            slave. The blood of souls is upon her garments, yet
            she heeds not the stain. The clanking of the prisoner's
            chains strike upon her ear, but they cannot penetrate
            her heart."

         </p>
         <p>
            Then, with holy wrath upon the nation, thus:

         </p>
         <p>
            "Every Fourth of July our Declaration of Independence
            is produced, with a sublime indignation, to
            set forth the tyranny of the mother country, and to
            challenge the admiration of the world. But what a
            pitiful detail of grievances does this document present,
            in comparison with the wrongs which our slaves
            endure? In the one case it is hardly the plucking of
            a hair from the head; in the other, it is the crushing
            of a live body on the wheel&#8212;the stings of the wasp
            contrasted with the tortures of the Inquisition. Before
            God I must say that such a glaring contradiction
            as exists between our creed and practice the
            annals of six thousand years cannot parallel. In view
            of it I am ashamed of my country. I am sick of our
            unmeaning declamation in praise of liberty and
            equality; of our hypocritical cant about the inalienable
            rights of man. I would not for my right hand
            stand up before a European assembly, and exult that
            I am an American citizen, and denounce the usurpations
            of a kingly government as wicked and unjust;
            or, should I make the attempt, the recollection of my
            country's barbarity and despotism would blister my
            lips, and cover my cheeks with burning blushes of
            shame."

         </p><a class="newpage" name="P_065" id="P_065" title="P_065"></a><p>
            Passing to his second proposition, which affirmed
            the right of the free States to be in at the death of
            slavery, he pointed out that slavery was not sectional
            but national in its influence. If the consequences of
            slave-holding did not flow beyond the limits of the
            slave section, the right would still exist, on the principle
            that what affected injuriously one part must
            ultimately hurt the whole body politic. But it was
            not true that slavery concerned only the States where
            it existed&#8212;the parts where it did not exist were
            involved by their constitutional liability to be called
            on for aid in case of a slave insurrection, as they were
            in the slave representation clause of the national compact,
            through which the North was deprived of its
            "just influence in the councils of the nation." And,
            furthermore, the right of the free States to agitate
            the question inhered in the principle of majority rule&#8212;the
            white population of the free States being almost
            double that of the slave States, "and the voice of this
            overwhelming majority should be potential." He
            repelled in strong language the wrongfulness of
            allowing the South to multiply the votes of those
            freemen by the master's right to count three for every
            five slaves, "because it is absurd and anti-republican
            to suffer property to be represented as men, and <i>vice
               versa</i>, because it gives the South an unjust ascendancy
            over other portions of territory, and a power
            which may be perverted on every occasion."

         </p>
         <p>
            He looked without shrinking upon the possibility
            of disunion even then.

         </p>
         <p>
            "Now I say that, on the broad system of equal
            rights," he declared, "this inequality should no
            longer be tolerated. If it cannot be speedily put
            <a class="newpage" name="P_066" id="P_066" title="P_066"></a>
            down&#8212;not by force but by fair persuasion&#8212;if we are
            always to remain shackled by unjust, constitutional
            provisions, when the emergency that imposed them
            has long since passed away; if we must share in the
            guilt and danger of destroying the bodies and souls
            of men <em>as the price of our Union</em>; if the slave States
            will haughtily spurn our assistance, and refuse to consult
            the general welfare, then the fault is not ours if
            a separation eventually takes place."

         </p>
         <p>
            Considering that he was in his twenty-fourth year,
            and that the Abolition movement had then no actual
            existence, the orator evinced surprising prescience in
            his forecast of the future, and of the strife and hostility
            which the agitation was destined to engender.

         </p>
         <p>
            "But the plea is prevalent," he said, "that any
            interference by the free States, however benevolent
            or cautious it might be, would only irritate and
            inflame the jealousies of the South, and retard the
            cause of emancipation. If any man believes that
            slavery can be abolished without a struggle with the
            worst passions of human nature, quietly, harmoniously,
            he cherishes a delusion. It can never be done,
            unless the age of miracles returns. No; we must
            expect a collision, full of sharp asperities and bitterness.
            We shall have to contend with the insolence,
            and pride, and selfishness of many a heartless being.

         </p>
         <p>
            "Sirs, the prejudices of the North are stronger
            than those of the South; they bristle like so many
            bayonets around the slaves; they forge and rivet the
            chains of the nation. Conquer them and the victory
            is won. The enemies of emancipation take courage
            from our criminal timidity.... We are ...
            afraid of our own shadows, who have been driven
            <a class="newpage" name="P_067" id="P_067" title="P_067"></a>
            back to the wall again and again; who stand trembling
            under their whips; who turn pale, retreat,
            and surrender at a talismanic threat to dissolve the
            Union...." But the difficulties did not daunt
            him, nor the dangers cow him. He did not doubt,
            but was assured, that truth was mighty and would
            prevail. "Moral influence when in vigorous exercise,"
            he said, "is irresistible. It has an immortal
            essence. It can no more be trod out of existence by
            the iron foot of time, or by the ponderous march of
            iniquity, than matter can be annihilated. It may disappear
            for a time; but it lives in some shape or other,
            in some place or other, and will rise with renovated
            strength. Let us then be up and doing. In the
            simple and stirring language of the stout-hearted
            Lundy, all the friends of the cause must go to work,
            keep to work, hold on, and never give up." The
            closing paragraph is this powerful peroration: "I
            will say, finally, that I despair of the republic while
            slavery exists therein. If I look up to God for success,
            no smile of mercy or forgiveness dispels the
            gloom of futurity; if to our own resources, they are
            daily diminishing; if to all history our destruction is
            not only possible but almost certain. Why should
            we slumber at this momentous crisis? If our hearts
            were dead to every thought of humanity; if it were
            lawful to oppress, where power is ample; still, if we
            had any regard for our safety and happiness, we
            should strive to crush the vampire which is feeding
            upon our life-blood. All the selfishness of our nature
            cries aloud for a better security. Our own vices are
            too strong for us, and keep us in perpetual alarm;
            how, in addition to these, shall we be able to contend
            <a class="newpage" name="P_068" id="P_068" title="P_068"></a>
            successfully with millions of armed and desperate
            men, as we must, eventually, if slavery do not cease?"
            Exit the apprentice, enter the master. The period of
            preparation is ended, the time of action begun. The
            address was the fiery cry of the young prophet ere
            he plunged into the unsubdued wilderness of
            American slavery.

         </p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap3"></a>
            CHAPTER III.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            THE MAN BEGINS HIS MINISTRY.

         </h2><a class="newpage" name="P_069" id="P_069" title="P_069"></a><p>
            Some time in August, 1829, Garrison landed in Baltimore,
            and began with Lundy the editorship of
            <i>The Genius of Universal Emancipation</i>. Radical as
            the Park Street Church address was, it had, nevertheless,
            ceased to represent in one essential matter his anti-slavery
            convictions and principles. The moral impetus
            and ground-swell of the address had carried
            him beyond the position where its first flood of feeling
            had for the moment left him. During the composition
            of the address he was transported with grief
            and indignation at the monstrous wrong which
            slavery did the slaves and the nation. He had not
            thought out for himself any means to rid both of the
            curse. The white heat of the address destroyed for
            the instant all capacity for such thinking. "Who can
            be amazed, temperate, and furious&#8212;in a moment?
            No man. The expedition of his violent love outran
            the pauser reason" He had accepted the colonization
            scheme as an instrument for removing the evil,
            and called on all good citizens "to assist in establishing
            auxiliary colonization societies in every State,
            county, and town"; and implored "their direct and
            liberal patronage to the parent society." He had not
            apparently, so much as dreamed of any other than
            gradual emancipation. "The emancipation of all
            <a class="newpage" name="P_070" id="P_070" title="P_070"></a>
            the slaves of this generation is most assuredly out of
            the question," he said; "the fabric which now towers
            above the Alps, must be taken away brick by brick,
            and foot by foot, till it is reduced so low that it may
            be overturned without burying the nation in its
            ruins. Years may elapse before the completion of
            the achievement; generations of blacks may go
            down to the grave, manacled and lacerated, without
            a hope for their children." He was on the Fourth of
            July a firm and earnest believer in the equity and
            efficacy of gradualism. But after that day, and some
            time before his departure for Baltimore, he began to
            think on this subject. The more he thought the less
            did gradualism seem defensible on moral grounds.
            John Wesley had said that slavery was the "sum of
            all villainies"; it was indeed the sin of sins, and as
            such ought to be abandoned not gradually but immediately.
            Slave-holding was sin and slaveholders
            were sinners. The sin and sinner should both be denounced
            as such and the latter called to instant repentance,
            and the duty of making immediate restitution
            of the stolen liberties of their slaves. This was
            the tone ministers of religion held every where toward
            sin and sinners, and this should be the tone held by
            the preachers of Abolition toward slavery, and slaveholders.
            To admit the principle of gradualism was for
            Abolition to emasculate itself of its most virile quality.
            Garrison, consequently rejected gradualism as
            a weapon, and took up instead the great and quickening
            doctrine of immediatism. Lundy did not know
            of this change in the convictions of his coadjutor
            until his arrival in Baltimore. Then Garrison frankly
            unburdened himself and declared his decision to conduct
            <a class="newpage" name="P_071" id="P_071" title="P_071"></a>
            his campaign against the national iniquity along
            the lines of immediate and unconditional emancipation.
            The two on this new radicalism did not see
            eye to eye. But Lundy with sententious shrewdness
            and liberality suggested to the young radical: "Thee
            may put thy initials to thy articles and I will put my
            initials to mine, and each will bear his own burden."
            And the arrangement pleased the young radical, for
            it enabled him to free his soul of the necessity which
            was then sitting heavily upon it. The precise state
            of his mind in respect of the question at this juncture
            in its history and in his own is made plain enough in
            his salutatory address in <i>The Genius of Universal
               Emancipation</i>. The vow made in Bennington ten
            months before to devote his life to philanthrophy,
            and the dedication of himself made six months afterward
            to the extirpation of American slavery, he
            solemnly renews and reseals in Baltimore. He does
            not hate intemperance and war less, but slavery more,
            and those, therefore, he formally relegates thenceforth
            to a place of secondary importance in the endeavors
            of the future. It is obvious that the colonization
            scheme has no strong hold upon his intelligence. He
            does not conceal his respect for it as an instrument
            of freedom, but he puts no high value on its utility.
            "It may pluck a few leaves," he remarks, "from the
            Bohon Upas, but can neither extract its roots nor
            destroy its withering properties. Viewed as an auxiliary,
            it deserves encouragement; but as a remedy
            it is altogether inadequate." But this was not all.
            As a remedy, colonization was not only altogether inadequate,
            its influence was indirectly pernicious, in
            that it lulled the popular mind into "a belief that
            <a class="newpage" name="P_072" id="P_072" title="P_072"></a>
            the monster has received his mortal wound." He
            perceived that this resultant indifference and apathy
            operated to the advantage of slavery, and to the injury
            of freedom. Small, therefore, as was the good
            which the Colonization Society was able to achieve, it
            was mixed with no little ill. Although Garrison has
            not yet begun to think on the subject, to examine into
            the motives and purposes of the society, it does not
            take a prophet to foresee that some day he will. He
            had already arrived at conclusions in respect of the
            rights of the colored people "to choose their own
            dwelling place," and against the iniquity of their expatriation,
            which cut directly at the roots of the
            colonization scheme. Later the pro-slavery character
            of the society will be wholly revealed to him. But
            truth in the breast of a reformer as of others must
            needs follow the great law of moral growth, first the
            blade, then the ear, and then the full corn in the ear.
            It is enough that he has made the tremendous step
            from gradual to immediate and unconditional emancipation
            on the soil.

         </p>
         <p>
            At this period he tested the disposition of slaveholders
            to manumit their slaves. The Colonization
            Society had given it out that there was no little
            desire on the part of many masters to set their slaves
            free. All that was wanted for a practical demonstration
            in this direction was the assurance of free
            transportation out of the country for the emancipated
            slaves. Lundy had made arrangement for the
            transportation of fifty slaves to Hayti and their
            settlement in that country. So he and Garrison
            advertised this fact in the <i>Genius</i>, but they
            waited in vain for a favorable response from the South&#8212;notwithstanding
            <a class="newpage" name="P_073" id="P_073" title="P_073"></a>
            the following humane inducement which this
            advertisement offered: "THE PRICE OF PASSAGE WILL BE
            ADVANCED, and everything furnished of which they
            may stand in need, until they shall have time to prepare
            their houses and set in to work." No master
            was moved to take advantage of the opportunity.
            This was discouraging to the believers in the efficacy
            of colonization as a potent anti-slavery instrument.
            But Garrison was no such believer. With unerring
            moral instinct he had from the start placed his
            reliance "on nothing but the eternal principles of
            justice for the speedy overthrow of slavery."

         </p>
         <p>
            He obtained at this period an intimate personal
            knowledge of the free colored people. He saw that
            they were not essentially unlike other races&#8212;that
            there was nothing morally or intellectually peculiar
            about them, and that the evil or the good which they
            manifested was the common property of mankind in
            similar circumstances. He forthwith became their
            brave defender against the common slanders of the
            times. "There is a prevalent disposition among all
            classes to traduce the habits and morals of our free
            blacks," he remarked in the <i>Genius</i>. "The most
            scandalous exaggerations in regard to their condition
            are circulated by a thousand mischievous
            tongues, and no reproach seems to them too deep or
            unmerited. Vile and malignant indeed is this practice,
            and culpable are they who follow it. We do
            not pretend to say that crime, intemperance, and
            suffering, to a considerable extent, cannot be found
            among the free blacks; but we do assert that they are
            as moral, peaceable, and industrious as that class of
            the whites who are, like them, in indigent circumstances&#8212;and
            <a class="newpage" name="P_074" id="P_074" title="P_074"></a>
            far less intemperate than the great
            body of foreign immigrants who infest and corrupt
            our shores." This idea of the natural equality of the
            races he presented in the <i>Genius</i> a few weeks
            before with Darwinian breadth in the following admirable
            sentences: "I deny the postulate that God has made,
            by an irreversible decree, or any inherent qualities,
            one portion of the human race superior to another.
            No matter how many breeds are amalgamated&#8212;no
            matter how many shades of color intervene between
            tribes or nations give them the same chances to
            improve, and a fair start at the same time, and the
            result will be equally brilliant, equally productive,
            equally grand."

         </p>
         <p>
            At the same time that he was making active, personal
            acquaintance with the free colored people, he
            was making actual personal acquaintance with the
            barbarism of slavery also. "The distinct application
            of a whip, and the shrieks of anguish" of the
            slave, his residence in Baltimore had taught him was
            "nothing uncommon" in that city. Such an instance
            had come to him while in the street where the office
            of the <i>Genius</i> was located. It was what was
            occurring at almost all hours of the day and in almost all
            parts of the town. He had not been in Baltimore
            a month when he saw a specimen of the brutality of
            slavery on the person of a negro, who had been mercilessly
            flogged. On his back were thirty-seven gashes
            made with a cowskin, while on his head were many
            bruises besides. It was a Sunday morning, fresh
            from his terrible punishment, that the poor fellow
            had found the editors of the <i>Genius</i>, who, with
            the compassion of brothers, took him in, dressed his
            <a class="newpage" name="P_075" id="P_075" title="P_075"></a>
            wounds, and cared for him for two days. Such an
            experience was no new horror to Lundy, but it was
            doubtless Garrison's first lesson in that line, and it
            sank many fathoms deep into his heart.

         </p>
         <p>
            Maryland was one of the slave-breeding States and
            Baltimore a slave emporium. There was enacted the
            whole business of slavery as a commercial enterprise.
            Here the human chattels were brought and here
            warehoused in jails and other places of storage and
            detention. Here they were put up at public auction,
            and knocked down to the highest bidder, and from
            here they were shipped to New Orleans, the great
            distributing center for such merchandise. He heard
            what Lundy had years before heard, the wail of
            captive mothers and fathers, wives, husbands and
            children, torn from each other; like Lundy, "he
            felt their pang of distress; and the iron entered his
            soul." He could not hold his peace in the midst of
            such abominations, but boldly exposed and denounced
            them. His indignation grew hot when he saw that
            Northern vessels were largely engaged in the coastwise
            slave-trade; and when, to his amazement, he
            learned that the ship <i>Francis</i>, owned by Francis
            Todd, a Newburyport merchant, had sailed for New
            Orleans with a gang of seventy-five slaves, his indignation
            burst into blaze. He blazoned the act and
            the name of Francis Todd in the <i>Genius</i>, and did
            verily what he had resolved to do, viz., "to cover with
            thick infamy all who were concerned in this nefarious
            business," the captain as well as the owner of the
            ill-freighted ship. He did literally point at these
            men the finger of scorn. Every device known to the
            printer's art for concentrating the reader's attention
            <a class="newpage" name="P_076" id="P_076" title="P_076"></a>
            upon particular words and sentences, Garrison made
            skillful use of in his articles&#8212;from the deep damnation
            of the heavy black capitals in which he printed
            the name Francis Todd, to the small caps in which
            appeared the words, "sentenced to solitary confinement
            for life," and which he flanked with two terrible
            indices. But the articles did not need such embellishment.
            They were red hot branding irons without
            them. One can almost smell the odor of burning
            flesh as he reads the words: "It is no worse to fit
            out piratical cruisers or to engage in the foreign
            slave-trade, than to pursue a similar trade along our
            coast; and the men who have the wickedness to participate
            therein, for the purpose of keeping up wealth
            should be <b>==&gt;</b><b>SENTENCED
               TO SOLITARY CONFINEMENT FOR LIFE</b>;
            <b>&lt;==</b><em>they are
               the enemies of their own species&#8212;highway
               robbers, and murderers</em>; and their final
            doom will be, unless they speedily repent, <em>to occupy
               the lowest depths of perdition</em>. I know that our laws
            make a distinction in this matter. I know that the
            man who is allowed to freight his vessel with slaves
            at home, for a distant market, would be thought
            worthy of death if he should take a similar freight
            on the coast of Africa; but I know, too, that this
            distinction is absurd, and at war with the common
            sense of mankind, and that God and good men regard
            it with abhorrence.

         </p>
         <p>
            "I recollect that it was always a mystery in Newburyport
            how Mr. Todd contrived to make profitable
            voyages to New Orleans and other places, when other
            merchants, with as fair an opportunity to make
            money, and sending to the same ports at the same
            time invariably made fewer successful speculations.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_077" id="P_077" title="P_077"></a>
            The mystery seems to be unravelled. Any man can
            gather up riches if he does not care by what means
            they are obtained."

         </p>
         <p>
            A copy of the <i>Genius</i>, containing this article
            Garrison sent to the owner of the ship <i>Francis</i>.
            What followed made it immediately manifest that the branding
            irons of the reformer had burned home with scarifying
            effect. Mr. Todd's answer to the strictures
            was a suit at law against the editors of the
            <i>Genius</i> for five thousand dollars in damages. But
            this was not all. The Grand Jury for Baltimore indicted them for
            publishing "a gross and malicious libel against
            Francis Todd and Nicholas Brown." This was at the
            February Term, 1830. On the first day of March following,
            Garrison was tried. He was ably and eloquently
            defended by Charles Mitchell, a young lawyer
            of the Baltimore Bar. But the prejudice of judge
            and jury rendered the verdict of guilty a foregone
            conclusion. April 17, 1830, the Court imposed a penalty
            of fifty dollars and costs, which, with the fine
            amounted in all to nearly one hundred dollars. The
            fine and costs Garrison could not pay, and he was
            therefore committed to jail as a common malefactor.
            His confinement lasted seven weeks. He did not
            languish during this period. His head and hands
            were in fact hardly ever more active than during the
            term of his imprisonment. Shut out by Maryland
            justice from work without the jail, he found and did
            that which needed to be done within "high walls and
            huge." He was an extraordinary prisoner and was
            treated with extraordinary consideration by the Warden.
            He proved himself a genuine evangel to the
            prisoners, visiting them in their cells, cheering them
            <a class="newpage" name="P_078" id="P_078" title="P_078"></a>
            by his bouyant and benevolent words, giving them
            what he had, a brother's sympathy, which to these ill-fated
            ones, was more than gold or silver. He indited
            for such of them as he deemed deserving, letters and
            petitions to the Governor praying their pardon; and
            he had the great satisfaction of seeing many of his
            efforts in this regard crowned with success.

         </p>
         <p>
            But more than this his imprisonment afforded him
            an opportunity for a closer acquaintance with the
            barbarism of slavery than he could possibly have
            made had he lived otherwise in Baltimore. A Southern
            jail was not only the place of detention of
            offenders against social justice, but of slaves waiting
            for the next market-day, of recaptured fugitives waiting
            for their owners to reclaim them. Here they were
            huddled and caged, pitiful and despairing in their
            misery. Such scenes sickened the young reformer
            every day. God had opened to him the darkest chapter
            in the book of the negroes' wrongs. Here is a page
            from that black volume of oppression and cruelty, the
            record of which he has preserved in the following
            graphic narrative: "During my late incarceration
            in Baltimore prison, four men came to obtain a runaway
            slave. He was brought out of his cell to confront
            his master, but pretended not to know him&#8212;did
            not know that he had ever seen him before&#8212;could
            not recollect his name. Of course the master was
            exceedingly irritated. 'Don't you remember,' said
            he, 'when I gave you not long since thirty-nine lashes
            under the apple-tree? Another time when I gave you
            a sound flogging in the barn? Another time when
            you was scourged for giving me the lie, by saying
            that the horse was in a good condition?' 'Yes,'
            <a class="newpage" name="P_079" id="P_079" title="P_079"></a>
            replied the slave, whose memory was thus quickened,
            'I do recollect. You have beaten me cruelly without
            cause; you have not given me enough to eat
            and drink; and I don't want to go back again.
            I wish you to sell me to another master. I
            had rather even go to Georgia than to return
            home!'

         </p>
         <p>
            "'I'll let you know, you villain,' said the master,
            'that my wishes and not <em>yours</em>, are to be consulted.
            I'll learn you how to run away again.'"

         </p>
         <p>
            The other men advised him to take the black
            home, and cut him up in inch pieces for his impudence,
            obstinacy, and desertion&#8212;swearing tremendously
            all the while. The slave was ordered back to
            his cell. Then ensued the following colloquy between
            Garrison and the master:

         </p>
         <p>
            G.&#8212;"Sir, what right have you to that poor creature?"

         </p>
         <p>
            M.&#8212;"My father left him to me."

         </p>
         <p>
            G.&#8212;"Suppose your father had broken into a bank
            and stolen ten thousand dollars, and safely bequeathed
            that as a legacy; could you conscientiously
            keep the money? For myself, I had rather rob
            any bank to an indefinite amount than kidnap a
            fellow-being, or hold him in bondage; the sin would
            be less injurious to society, and less sinful in the
            sight of God."

         </p>
         <p>
            M.&#8212;"Perhaps you would like to buy the slave
            and give him his liberty?"

         </p>
         <p>
            G.&#8212;"Sir, I am a poor man; and were I ever so
            opulent, it would be necessary, on your part, to make
            out a clear title to the services of the slave before I
            could conscientiously make a bargain."

         </p><a class="newpage" name="P_080" id="P_080" title="P_080"></a><p>
            M&#8212;"Well, sir, I can prove from the Bible that
            slavery is right."

         </p>
         <p>
            G.&#8212;"Ah! that is a precious book&#8212;the rule of conduct.
            I have always supposed that its spirit was
            directly opposed to everything in the shape of fraud
            and oppression. However, sir, I should be glad to
            hear your text."

         </p>
         <p>
            M. (hesitatingly)&#8212;"Ham&#8212;Noah's curse, you
            know."

         </p>
         <p>
            G. (hastily)&#8212;"Oh, sir, you build on a very slender
            foundation. Granting even&#8212;what remains to be
            proved&#8212;that the Africans are the descendants of
            Ham, Noah's curse was a <em>prediction</em> of future servitude,
            and not an injunction to oppress. Pray, sir, is
            it a careful desire to fulfill the Scriptures, or to make
            money, that induces you to hold your fellow-men in
            bondage?"

         </p>
         <p>
            M. (excitedly)&#8212;"Why, sir, do you really think that
            the slaves are beings like ourselves?&#8212;that is, I mean
            do you believe that they possess the same faculties
            and capacities as the whites?"

         </p>
         <p>
            G. (energetically)&#8212;"Certainly, sir, I do not know
            that there is any moral or intellectual quality in the
            curl of the hair, or the color of the skin. I cannot
            conceive why a black man may not as reasonably object
            to my color, as I to his. Sir, it is not a black
            face that I detest, but a black heart&#8212;and I find it
            very often under a white skin."

         </p>
         <p>
            M. (derisively)&#8212;"Well, sir, how should you like to
            see a black man President of the United States?"

         </p>
         <p>
            G. (severely)&#8212;"As to that, sir, I am a true Republican,
            and bow to the will of the majority. If the
            people prefer a black President, I should cheerfully
            <a class="newpage" name="P_081" id="P_081" title="P_081"></a>
            submit; and if he be qualified for the station, may
            peradventure give him my vote."

         </p>
         <p>
            M. (triumphantly)&#8212;"How should you like to have
            a black man marry your daughter?"

         </p>
         <p>
            G. (making a home thrust and an end of the dialogue)&#8212;"I am not
            married&#8212;I have no daughter.
            Sir, I am not familiar with <em>your</em> practices; but allow
            me to say, that slaveholders generally should be the
            last persons to affect fastidiousness on that point; for
            they seem to be enamored with <em>amalgamation</em>."

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison's pen was particularly busy during the
            term of his imprisonment. He paid his respects to
            the State's Attorney who prosecuted him, to the judge
            who condemned him, and to Francis Todd, the owner
            of the ship <i>Francis</i>. He prepared and scattered
            broadcast a true account of his trial, showing how
            the liberty of the press had been violated in the case.
            He did not doubt that it would astonish Europe if it
            were known there "that <em>an American citizen lies incarcerated
               in prison, for having denounced slavery and
               its abettors in his own country</em>." The fact created no
            little astonishment in America. Slavery became distinctly
            connected for the first time with abridgments
            of the freedom of the press, and the right of free
            speech. And the cause of the slave became involved
            with the Constitutional liberties of the republic. In
            punishing Garrison, the Abolitionist, the rights of
            Garrison the white freeman were trampled on. And
            white freemen in the North, who cared nothing for
            Abolitionism, but a great deal for their right to speak
            and write freely, resented the outrage. This fact was
            the most important consequence, which flowed from
            the trial and imprisonment of the young editor of
            <a class="newpage" name="P_082" id="P_082" title="P_082"></a><i>The Genius of Universal Emancipation</i>. "As the
            news of my imprisonment became extensively known," he
            wrote, "and the merits of the case understood, not a
            mail rolled into the city but it brought me consolatary
            letters from individuals hitherto unknown to
            me, and periodicals of all kinds from every section
            of the Union (not even excepting the South), all
            uniting to give me a triumphant acquittal&#8212;all
            severely reprehending the conduct of Mr. Todd&#8212;and
            all regarding my trial as a mockery of justice."
            This unexpected result was one of those accidents of
            history, which "have laws as fixed as planets have."

         </p>
         <p>
            The prosecution and imprisonment of Garrison
            was without doubt designed to terrorize him into
            silence on the subject of slavery. But his persecutors
            had reckoned without a knowledge of their victim.
            Garrison had the martyr's temperament and invincibility
            of purpose. His earnestness burned the more
            intensely with the growth of opposition and peril.
            Within "gloomy walls close pent," he warbled gay
            as a bird of a freedom which tyrants could not touch,
            nor bolts confine:

         </p>
         <div class="lg">"No chains can bind it, and no cell enclose,<br>Swifter than light, it flies from pole to pole,<br>And in a flash from earth to heaven it goes!"<br><br></div>
         <p>
            or with deep, stern gladness sang he to "The Guiltless
            Prisoner" how:

         </p>
         <div class="lg">"A martyr's crown is richer than a king's!<br>Think it an honor with thy Lord to bleed,<br>And glory 'midst intensest sufferings;<br>Though beat&#8212;imprisoned&#8212;put to open shame<br>Time shall embalm and magnify thy name."<br><br></div>
         <p>
            "Is it supposed by Judge Brice," the guiltless prisoner
            <a class="newpage" name="P_083" id="P_083" title="P_083"></a>
            wrote from his cell, "that his frowns can intimidate
            me, or his sentence stifle my voice on the subject
            of African oppression? He does not know me.
            So long as a good Providence gives me strength and
            intellect, I will not cease to declare that the existence
            of slavery in this country is a foul reproach to the
            American name; nor will I hesitate to proclaim the
            guilt of kidnappers, slave abettors, or slaveowners,
            wheresoever they may reside, or however high
            they may be exalted. I am only in the <i>alphabet</i>
            of my task; time shall perfect a useful work.
            It is my shame that I have done so little for the
            people of color; yea, before God, I feel humbled
            that my feelings are so cold, and my language
            so weak. A few white victims must be sacrificed
            to open the eyes of this nation, and to show
            the tyranny of our laws. I expect and am willing to
            be persecuted, imprisoned, and bound for advocating
            African rights; and I should deserve to be a slave
            myself if I shrunk from that duty or danger." The
            story of the trial of William Lloyd Garrison, from
            which the above brave words are taken, fell into the
            hands of that noble man and munificent merchant,
            Arthur Tappan, of New York. From the reading of
            it he rose "with that deep feeling of abhorrence of
            slavery and its abettors which every one must feel
            who is capable of appreciating the blessings of
            liberty," and thereupon notified Lundy to draw upon
            him for one hundred dollars if that amount would
            give the young editor his liberty. The fine and costs
            of court were accordingly paid and just forty-nine
            days after entering Baltimore jail a prisoner, Garrison
            recovered his freedom. The civil action of Todd
            <a class="newpage" name="P_084" id="P_084" title="P_084"></a>
            against him was still pending. Nothing daunted
            Garrison went North two days after his discharge to
            obtain certain evidence deemed important by his
            counsel to his defence. He took with him an open
            letter from Lundy looking to the renewal of
            the weekly <i>Genius</i> under their joint control.
            Prior to Garrison's trial the paper had fallen into great
            stress for want of money. Lundy and he had made
            a division of their labors, the latter doing the editorial
            and office work, while the former traveled from
            place to place soliciting subscriptions and collecting
            generally the sinews of war. But the experiment
            was not successful from a business standpoint. For
            as Garrison playfully observed subsequently:
            "Where friend Lundy could get one new subscriber,
            I could knock a <em>dozen</em> off, and I did so. It was the
            old experiment of the frog in the well, that went two
            feet up and fell three feet back, at every jump."
            Where the income of the paper did not exceed fifty
            dollars in four months and the weekly expenditure
            amounted to at least that sum, the financial failure of
            the enterprise was inevitable. This unhappy event
            did actually occur six weeks before the junior editor
            went to jail; and the partnership was formally dissolved
            in the issue of the <i>Genius</i> of March 5, 1830.
            But when Arthur Tappan made his generous offer of
            a hundred dollars to effect Garrison's release, he
            made at the same time an offer of an equal amount
            to aid the editors in re&euml;stablishing the
            <i>Genius</i>. This
            proposition led to hopes on the part of the two
            friends to a renewal of their partnership in the cause
            of emancipation. And so Garrison's visit to the
            North was taken advantage of to test the disposition
            <a class="newpage" name="P_085" id="P_085" title="P_085"></a>
            of Northern philanthropy to support such a paper.
            But what he found was a sad lack of interest in the
            slave. Everywhere he went he encountered what
            appeared to him to be the most monstrous indifference
            and apathy on the subject. The prejudices of the free
            States seemed to him stronger than were those of
            the South. Instead of receiving aid and encouragement
            to continue the good work of himself and coadjutor,
            and for the doing of which he had served a term
            of seven weeks in prison, men, even his best friends
            sought to influence him to give it up, and to persuade
            him to forsake the slave, and to turn his time and
            talents to safer and more profitable enterprises nearer
            home. He was informed by these worldly wise men
            and Job's counselors that his "scheme was visionary,
            fanatical, unattainable." "Why should he make
            himself," they argued, "an exile from home and all
            that he held dear on earth, and sojourn in a strange
            land, among enemies whose hearts were dead to every
            noble sentiment?" Ah! he himself confessed that all
            were against his return to Baltimore. But his love
            of the slave was stronger than the strength of the
            temptation. He put all these selfish objections behind
            him. As he has recorded the result of this experience:
            "Opposition served only to increase my ardor, and
            confirm my purpose." Strange and incomprehensible
            to his fellows is the man who prefers "persecution,
            reproach, and poverty" with duty, to worldly ease
            and honor and riches without it. When a man
            appears in society who is not controlled by motives
            which usually govern the conduct of other men he
            becomes at first an object of pity, then of contempt,
            and, lastly, of hate. Garrison we may be sure at the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_086" id="P_086" title="P_086"></a>
            end of this visit had made rapid transit from the first
            to the second of these stages in the esteem of his
            generation.

         </p>
         <p>
            His experience was not all of this deplorable kind.
            He left Baltimore without the money required to pay
            his way North, depending literally upon the good
            God to provide for him the necessary means to complete
            his journey. And such help was more than
            once providentially afforded the young apostle of liberty.
            At New York, when he did not know how he
            was to go farther for want of means, he met a Mr.
            Samuel Leggett who gave him a pass on the "splendid
            steamboat <i>President</i>." It seems that this friend
            in his need had read with indignation the story of his trial.
            The bread which he had scattered from his prison on
            the waters of public sentiment had thus returned to
            him after many days in the timely assistance of a
            sympathetic soul. And then, again, when he was in
            Boston in sore distress for a little money, suddenly,
            beautifully, the desire of his heart was satisfied. But
            let him tell the incident in his own touching way.
            His face was turned toward Baltimore: "But how
            was I to return?" he asks. "I had not a dollar in
            my pocket, and my time was expired. No one understood
            my circumstances. I was too proud to beg, and
            ashamed to borrow. My friends were prodigal of
            pity, but of nothing else. In the extremity of my
            uneasiness, I went to the Boston post-office, and found
            a letter from my friend Lundy, inclosing a draft for
            $100 from a stranger and as a remuneration for my
            poor inefficient services in behalf of the slaves!" The
            munificent stranger was Ebenezer Dole, of Hallowell,
            Maine. Money thus acquired was a sacred trust to
            <a class="newpage" name="P_087" id="P_087" title="P_087"></a>
            this child of Providence. "After deducting the
            expenses of traveling," he goes on to say, "the
            remainder of the above-named sum was applied
            in discharging a few of the debts incurred by the
            unproductiveness of the <i>Genius</i>."

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison returned to Baltimore, but he did not
            tarry long in that slave-ruled city. Todd's suit
            against him was tried after his departure, and the
            jury soothed the Newburyport merchant's wounded
            pride with a verdict for a thousand dollars. He never
            attempted, however, to enforce the payment of the
            same being content probably with the "vindication,"
            which his legal victory gave him.

         </p>
         <p>
            Before the reformer left Baltimore he had definitely
            abandoned the plans looking to a revival of his interest
            in the <i>Genius</i>. He determined instead to publish
            a sheet devoted to the abolition of slavery under his
            sole management and control. This paper he proposed
            to call the <i>Public Liberator</i>, and to issue from
            Washington. The prospectus of this journalistic
            project bearing date, August, 1830, declares in its
            opening sentence its "primary object" to be "the
            abolition of slavery, and the moral and intellectual
            elevation of our colored population." "I shall spare
            no efforts," he pledged himself, "to delineate the
            withering influence of slavery upon our national
            prosperity and happiness, its awful impiety, its rapid
            extension, and its inevitable consequences if it be
            suffered to exist without hindrance. It will also be
            my purpose to point out the path of safety, and a
            remedy for the disease." This comprehensive and
            aggressive plan of campaign signalized the rise of an
            Abolitionism wholly unlike the Abolitionism of any
            <a class="newpage" name="P_088" id="P_088" title="P_088"></a>
            previous time in the history of the country. It did
            in fact date the opening of a new era in the slavery
            struggle in America.

         </p>
         <p>
            With Northern indifference and apathy on the subject
            of emancipation, Garrison's previous visit to the
            North had acquainted him. Their existence he saw
            interposed the main obstacle to the success of his
            new venture in journalism. "The cause of this callous
            state of feeling," he believed, "was owing to
            their exceeding ignorance of the horrors of slavery."
            He accordingly made up his mind to throw the light
            which he possessed into the midst of this darkness. He
            had written in prison three lectures on "Slavery and
            Colonization." What better could he now do than to
            deliver those lectures at the North? If the good people
            and their religious leaders knew what he knew, they
            would presently feel as he did on the question. He was
            loath to leave Baltimore without giving this testimony
            against slavery. But unable to procure a room
            for this purpose was finally compelled to content himself
            with the witness he had already borne in the
            <i>Genius</i> and in prison in behalf of the slave.
            In Philadelphia he well-nigh failed to obtain a hall for his
            lectures, but did finally succeed in getting the Franklin
            Institute, where, to small audiences, he lifted up
            his voice against the iniquity of the times. He repeated
            his lectures in New York, New Haven, and
            Hartford. But not many came out to hear him.
            The nation, its churches, and politicians had thrust
            their fingers in their ears to every cry coming up
            from the slave. Why should they go to sup with a
            madman on horrors, with which as patriotic people
            they were forbidden to concern themselves. And so
            <a class="newpage" name="P_089" id="P_089" title="P_089"></a>
            for the most part Garrison could do nothing with
            communities, which had eyes, but obstinately refused
            to see with them upon any subject relating to the
            abominations of slavery. In his own town of Newburyport,
            officers of Christian churches not only refused
            to hear his message themselves, but debarred
            others from listening to the woes and wrongs of fellow-creatures
            in bondage. As Mr. Garrison truly
            said at the time: "If I had visited Newburyport to
            plead the cause of twenty white men in chains, every
            hall and every meeting-house would have been
            thrown open, and the fervor of my discourses anticipated
            and exceeded by my fellow-townsmen. The
            fact that two millions of colored beings are groaning
            in bondage, in this land of liberty, excites no interest
            nor pity." If these damning facts are remembered
            sixty years after their occurrence to the shame of
            the trustees of the two churches, viz., the Presbyterian
            Church on Harris street and the Second Congregational
            Church, it is also remembered to the honor of
            the two pastors, Rev. Dr. Daniel Dana, and the Rev.
            Dr. Luther F. Dimmick, that they had thrown open
            to the prophet the doors of their meeting-houses,
            which the trustees afterward slammed in his face.

         </p>
         <p>
            In Boston the same hard luck followed him. In
            all that city of Christian churches he could not obtain
            the use of a single meeting-house, "in which to
            vindicate the rights of TWO MILLIONS of American
            citizens, who are now groaning in servile chains
            in this boasted land of liberty; and also to
            propose just, benevolent, and constitutional measures
            for their relief." So ran an advertisement
            in the Boston <i>Courier</i> of the sorely tried soul.
            For
            <a class="newpage" name="P_090" id="P_090" title="P_090"></a>
            two weeks he had gone up and down the town in
            search of a room free of cost, in which to deliver his
            message. The door of every sanctuary was locked
            against his cause. It was then, as a final recourse,
            that he turned to the <i>Courier</i>, and made his last
            appeal to the Christian charity of the city. The prayer
            of the prophet was answered from an unexpected
            quarter. It was that ecclesiastical dragon of the
            times, Abner Kneeland, and his society of "blasphemers,"
            who proved afresh the truth of that
            scripture which says: "Not every one that saith unto
            me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of
            heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father
            which is in heaven." It was they that gave to liberty
            a hearing, to the prophet of righteousness a chance
            to deliver his message. It was in their meeting-house,
            in Julian Hall, that Garrison gave his lectures,
            giving the first one on the evening of October 15,
            1830.

         </p>
         <p>
            Samuel J. May, who was present, has preserved his
            impressions of the lecture and lecturer. "Never
            before," he records many years afterward, "was I so
            affected by the speech of man. When he had ceased
            speaking I said to those around me: 'That is a
            providential man; he is a prophet; he will shake
            our nation to its center, but he will shake slavery out
            of it. We ought to know him, we ought to help
            him. Come, let us go and give him our hands.' Mr.
            Sewall and Mr. Alcott went up with me and we
            introduced each other. I said to him, 'Mr. Garrison,
            I am not sure that I can indorse all you have said
            this evening. Much of it requires careful consideration.
            But I am prepared to embrace you. I am
            <a class="newpage" name="P_091" id="P_091" title="P_091"></a>
            sure you are called to a great work, and I mean to
            help you.' Mr. Sewall cordially assured him of his
            readiness also to cooperate with him. Mr. Alcott
            invited him to his home. He went and we sat with
            him until twelve that night, listening to his discourse,
            in which he showed plainly that <em>immediate, unconditional
               emancipation, without expatriation, was the right of
               every slave, and could not be withheld by his master an
               hour without sin</em>. That night my soul was baptised
            in his spirit, and ever since I have been a disciple and
            fellow-laborer of William Lloyd Garrison." A new
            force had arisen in our history, and a new epoch
            had broken bolts for humanity.

         </p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap4"></a>
            CHAPTER IV.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            THE HOUR AND THE MAN.

         </h2><a class="newpage" name="P_092" id="P_092" title="P_092"></a><p>
            The providential man was not yet twenty-five. In
            personal appearance he was quite the reverse of his
            friend Lundy. Garrison was gifted with a body
            that matched his mind, strong, straight, sound in
            every part, and proportioned in every member. As
            he stood he was much above the medium height.
            His dark hair had already partially left the crown of
            the high dome-shaped head. His forehead combined
            height with breadth, which, taken in connection
            with the brown eyes covered with the now
            habitual glasses, lent to his countenance a striking
            air of moral serenity and elevation. Force, firmness,
            no ordinary self-reliance and courage found
            masterly expression in the rest of the face. There
            was through the whole physical man a nice blending
            of strength and delicacy of structure. The impression
            of fineness and finish was perhaps mainly owing
            to the woman-like purity and freshness of skin and
            color, which overspread the virile lines and features
            of the face from brow to chin. What one saw in that
            face was the quality of justice made flesh, good-will
            to men personified.

         </p>
         <p>
            This characterization of the reformer's countenance
            may be considered absurd by some readers.
            But absurd it is not. People who had read his stern
            <a class="newpage" name="P_093" id="P_093" title="P_093"></a>
            denunciations of slave-holding and slaveholders, and
            who had formed their image of the man from his
            "hard language" and their own prejudices could not
            recognize the original when they met him. His manner
            was peculiarly winning and attractive, and in
            personal intercourse almost instantly disarmed hostility.
            The even gentleness of his rich voice, his unfailing
            courtesy and good temper, his quick eye for
            harmless pleasantries, his hearty laugh, the Quaker-like
            calmness, deliberateness, and meekness, with
            which he would meet objections and argue the righteousness
            of his cause, his sweet reasonableness and
            companionableness were in strange contrast to popular
            misconceptions and caricatures of him. No one
            needed to be persuaded, who had once conversed
            with him, that there was no hatred or vindictiveness
            in his severities of language toward slaveholders.
            That he was no Jacobin, no enemy of society, was
            perceived the moment one looked into his grave,
            kind face, or caught the warm accents of his pacific
            tones, or listened to the sedate intensity, and humanity
            of his discourses on the enormity of American
            slavery as they fell from him in conversations between
            man and man. Here is a case in point, a typical incident
            in the life of the reformer; it occurred, it is
            true, when he was twenty-seven, but it might have
            occurred at twenty-five quite as well; it is narrated
            by Samuel J. May in his recollections of the anti-slavery
            conflict: On his way from New York to
            Philadelphia with Garrison, Mr. May fell into a discussion
            with a pro-slavery passenger on the vexed
            question of the day. There was the common pro-slavery
            reasoning, which May answered as well as he
            <a class="newpage" name="P_094" id="P_094" title="P_094"></a>
            was able. Presently Mr. Garrison drew near the disputants,
            whereupon May took the opportunity to
            shift the anti-slavery burden of the contention to his
            leader's shoulders. All of his most radical and unpopular
            Abolition doctrines Garrison immediately
            proceeded to expound to his opponent. "After a
            long conversation," says Mr. May, "which attracted
            as many as could get within hearing, the gentleman
            said, courteously: 'I have been much interested, sir,
            in what you have said, and in the exceedingly frank
            and temperate manner in which you have treated the
            subject. If all Abolitionists were like you, there would
            be much less opposition to your enterprise. But, sir,
            depend upon it, that hair-brained, reckless, violent
            fanatic, Garrison, will damage, if he does not shipwreck,
            any cause.' Stepping forward, I replied, 'Allow
            me, sir, to introduce you to Mr. Garrison, of whom
            you entertain so bad an opinion. The gentleman
            you have been talking with is he.'"

         </p>
         <p>
            Or take Harriet Martineau's first impressions on
            seeing him. "His aspect put to flight in an instant
            what prejudices his slanderers had raised in me. I
            was wholly taken by surprise. It was a countenance
            glowing with health, and wholly expressive of purity,
            animation and gentleness. I did not wonder at the
            citizen who, seeing a print of Garrison at a shop window
            without a name to it, went in and bought it, and
            framed it as the most saintlike of countenances."

         </p>
         <p>
            The appearance of such a man on the stage of our
            history as a nation, at this hour, was providential.
            His coming was in the fulness of time. A rapid review
            of events anterior to the advent of Garrison will
            serve to place this matter more clearly before the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_095" id="P_095" title="P_095"></a>
            general reader. To begin, then, at the beginning we
            have two ships off the American coast, the one casting
            anchor in Plymouth harbor, the other discharging its
            cargo at Jamestown. They were both freighted with
            human souls. But how different! Despotism landed
            at Jamestown, democracy at Plymouth. Here in the
            germ was the Southern idea, slave labor, slave institutions;
            and here also was the Northern idea, free labor,
            free institutions. Once planted they grew, each seed
            idea multiplying after its kind. In course of time
            there arose on one side an industrial system in which
            the plantation principle, race-rule and race-slavery,
            were organic centers; and, on the other, a social
            system in which the principle of popular power and
            government, the town meeting, and the common school
            were the ganglia of social expansion. Contrary ideas
            beget naturally enough contrary interests and institutions.
            So it is no matter for surprise that the local
            interests and institutions of the thirteen revolted
            colonies lacked homogeneity and identity. What
            was calculated to promote the general welfare of the
            Northern one, it was quite possible might work a
            totally opposite result in the Southern. For, indeed,
            while there were slaves in them all, the slave system
            had taken root in Southern soil only; and while on
            the other hand the spirit of freedom was existent in
            each, free labor had rooted itself in Northern ground
            solely.

         </p>
         <p>
            As the war of the Revolution was an uprising
            against arbitrary power, and for the establishment of
            political liberty, it pushed easily into the foreground
            the larger subject of human rights. Most of the
            leading actors felt the inconsistency of keeping some
            <a class="newpage" name="P_096" id="P_096" title="P_096"></a>
            men in bondage, when they were fighting to rid themselves
            of a tyranny which, in comparison to the other,
            was a state of honorable freedom. Their humanity
            condemned African slavery, and they earnestly desired
            its extinction. The Declaration of Independence
            proves to how high a level the tide of freedom rose
            in the colonies. The grand truths by it proclaimed
            the signers of that instrument did not restrict in their
            application to some men to the exclusion of other
            men. They wrote "All men," and they meant exactly
            what they wrote. Too simply honest and great
            they were to mean less than their solemn and deliberate
            words.

         </p>
         <p>
            On political as well as on moral grounds they desired
            emancipation. But there was a difficulty which
            at the time proved insuperable. The nation-making
            principle, the idea of country, was just emerging out
            of the nebulous civil conditions and relations of the
            ante-Revolutionary epoch. There was no existent
            central authority to reach the evil within the States
            except the local governments of the States respectively.
            And States in revolt against the central authority
            of the mother country would hardly be disposed
            to divest themselves of any part of their newly
            asserted right to govern themselves for the purpose
            of conferring the same upon any other political body.
            To each State, then, the question was necessarily left
            for settlement.

         </p>
         <p>
            The war, during its continuance, absorbed the
            united resources and energies of the people and their
            leaders. The anti-slavery movement made accordingly
            but small progress. Reforms thrive only when
            they get a hearing. Public attention is the food on
            <a class="newpage" name="P_097" id="P_097" title="P_097"></a>
            which they thrive. But precious little of this food
            was the Abolition cause able to snatch in those bitter
            years. It could not grow. It remained in the gristle&#8212;hardly
            more than a sentiment. But the sentiment
            was a seed, the promise and potency of kindlier times.
            With the close of the long struggle other questions
            arose; got the people's ears; fixed the attention of the
            leaders. Scant notice could emancipation extort from
            men who had to repair the ravages of an exhausting
            war, reconstruct shattered fortunes, restore civil society
            in parts tumbling into ruinous disorder. The
            instinct of self-preservation was altogether too masterful
            for the moral starveling. It succumbed to circumstances,
            content to obtain an occasional sermon,
            an annual address, a few scattered societies to keep a
            human glow in the bosom of the infant Confederacy.

         </p>
         <p>
            The Confederation failed. The formation of a
            more perfect union was demanded and undertaken.
            This transcendent task straightway thrust into the
            background every other enterprise and interest. The
            feeble activity of the freedom-making principle was
            checked, for the time being, by the energy of the
            nation-making power. They were not antagonistic
            forces&#8212;only in the natural order of things, the earliest
            stages in the evolution of the former had to come
            after the first steps were taken in the development of
            the latter. Before there could start a general movement
            against American slavery there must needs be
            an American nation. An American nation was, in
            the year 1787, in process of successful development.
            With the adoption of the Constitution, the national
            principle entered on a period of marvelous expansion
            and activity.

         </p><a class="newpage" name="P_098" id="P_098" title="P_098"></a><p>
            Let it not, however, be hastily concluded that freedom
            meanwhile was in total eclipse, that the anti-slavery
            sentiment was absolutely without influence.
            For it unquestionably inspired the Ordinance of 1787.
            The Northwest Territory, out of which were subsequently
            organized the States of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois,
            Michigan, and Wisconsin, was thereby, forever
            secured to the Northern idea, and free labor. Supplementary
            to this grand act was the Constitutional
            prohibition of the African slave-trade after the year
            1808. Together they were intended to discourage
            the growth of slavery&#8212;the first by restricting its territorial
            extension, the second, by arresting its numerical
            increase. And without doubt they would have
            placed the evil in the way of ultimate extinction had
            other and far reaching causes not intervened to produce
            adverse social and political conditions.

         </p>
         <p>
            The first of these causes, in point of time, were certain
            labor-saving inventions in England, which vastly
            enhanced the demand for raw cotton. Arkwright's
            invention of the spinning machine about twenty years
            prior to the adoption of the Constitution, perfected
            by the spinning-jenny of Hargreaves, and the mule
            of Crompton, "turned Lancashire," the historian
            Green says, "into a hive of industry." The then rapid
            demand for cotton operated in time as a stimulus
            to its production in America. Increased productivity
            raised the value of slave property and slave
            soil. But the slow and tedious hand method of separating
            the fiber of the cotton bulb from the seed
            greatly limited the ability of the Cotton States to
            meet and satisfy the fast growing demand of the
            English manufacturers, until Eli Whitney, in 1793, by
            <a class="newpage" name="P_099" id="P_099" title="P_099"></a>
            an ingenious invention solved the problem of supply
            for these States. The cotton gin was not long in
            proving itself the other half&#8212;the other hand of the
            spinning machine.

         </p>
         <p>
            From that year the slave interests of the South
            rose in market value, and its industrial system
            assumed unexpected importance in the economic
            world. The increased production of cotton led
            directly to increased demand for slave labor and
            slave soil. The increased demand for slave labor the
            Constitutional provision relating to the African slave
            trade operated in part to satisfy. The increased
            demand for slave soil was likewise satisfied by the
            cession to the United States by Georgia and North
            Carolina of the Southwest Territory, with provisos
            practically securing it to slavery. Out of this new
            national territory were subsequently carved the slave
            States of Tennessee, Mississippi, and Alabama.

         </p>
         <p>
            Slave soil unlike free soil, is incapable of sustaining
            a dense population. Slave labor calls for large
            spaces within which to multiply and prosper. The
            purchase of Louisiana and the acquisition of Florida
            met this agrarian necessity on the part of the South.
            Immense, unsettled areas thus fell to the lot of the
            slave system at the crisis of its material expansion and
            prosperity. The domestic slave-trade under the impetus
            of settling these vast regions according to the
            plantation principle, became an enormous and spreading
            industry. The crop of slaves was not less profitable
            than the crop of cotton. A Southern white
            man had but to buy a score of slaves and a few hundred
            acres to get "rich beyond the dreams of avarice."
            So at least calculated the average Southern man.

         </p><a class="newpage" name="P_100" id="P_100" title="P_100"></a><p>
            This revival of slavery disappointed the humane
            expectation of its decline and ultimate extinction
            entertained by the founders of the republic. It built
            up instead a growing and formidable slave class, and
            interest in the Union. With the rise of giant slave
            interests, there followed the rise of a power devoted
            to their encouragement and protection.

         </p>
         <p>
            Three far-reaching concessions the slave States
            obtained in the convention of 1787, viz., the right to
            import slaves from Africa until 1808; the rendition
            of fugitive slaves escaping into the free States, and
            the three-fifths slave representation clause of the
            Constitution&#8212;all of which added vastly to the
            security and value of this species of property, and
            as a consequence contributed to the slave revival.

         </p>
         <p>
            The equality of the States in the upper branch of
            the National Legislature, taken in connection with the
            right of the slave States to count five slaves as three
            freemen in the apportionment of representatives to
            the lower House of Congress, gave the Southern section
            an almost immediate ascendency in the Federal
            Government. To the South was thus opened by an
            unexpected combination of circumstances a wide
            avenue for the acquisition of fabulous wealth, and to
            Southern public men an incomparable arena for the
            exercise of political abilities and leadership. An
            institution, which thus ministered to two of the
            strongest passions of mankind&#8212;avarice and ambition&#8212;was
            certain to excite the most intense attachment.
            Its safety naturally, therefore, became among
            the slave class an object of prime importance.
            Southern jealousy in this regard ultimated inevitably
            in Southern narrowness, Southern sectionalism, which
            <a class="newpage" name="P_101" id="P_101" title="P_101"></a>
            early manifested themselves in the exclusion from
            lead in national affairs of Northern public men,
            reputed to be unfriendly to slavery. Webster as late
            as 1830, protested warmly against this intolerance.
            Like begets like. And the proscribing of anti-slavery
            politicians by the South, created in turn not a little
            sectional feeling at the North, and helped to stimulate
            there a consciousness of sectional differences, of
            antagonism of interests between the two halves of
            the Union.

         </p>
         <p>
            Discontent with the original basis of the Union,
            which had given the South its political coign of
            vantage, broke out first in New England. The occasion,
            though not the cause, of this discontent was,
            perhaps, the downfall of the Federal party, whose
            stronghold was in the East. The commercial and
            industrial crisis brought on by the embargo, and
            which beggared, on the authority of Webster, "thousands
            of families and hundreds of thousands of individuals"
            fanned this Eastern dissatisfaction into
            almost open disaffection towards a government dominated
            by Southern influence, and directed by Southern
            statesmanship. To the preponderance of this
            Southern element in national legislation New England
            traced her misfortunes. She was opposed to
            the War of 1812, but was overruled to her hurt by
            the South. In these circumstances New England
            went for correcting the inequalities of the original
            basis of the Union, which gave to the South its
            undue preponderance in shaping national laws and
            policies. This was the purpose of the Hartford
            Convention, which proposed the abrogation of the
            slave representation clause of the Constitution, and
            <a class="newpage" name="P_102" id="P_102" title="P_102"></a>
            the imposition of a check upon the admission of new
            States into the Union. The second proposition did
            not say "new slave States," but new slave States was,
            nevertheless, intended by the Convention. Here in
            point of time and magnitude, was the first distinct
            collision of the two sets of ideas and interests of the
            Republic.

         </p>
         <p>
            Following the Treaty of Ghent other and imperious
            questions engaged the public attention&#8212;questions of
            the tariff, of finance, internal improvements, national
            defence, a new navy, forts and fortifications. Hard
            times, too, engrossed an enormous share of this attention.
            The immediate needs and problems of the
            hour pushed into the background all less pressing
            ones. The slavery question amidst the clamor and
            babel of emergent and material interests, lost something
            of its sectional heat and character. But its
            fires were not extinguished, only banked as events
            were speedily to reveal.

         </p>
         <p>
            The application of Missouri for admission into the
            Union as a slave State four years after the Hartford
            Convention blew to a blaze the covered embers of
            strife between the sections. The North was violently
            agitated. For the admission of a new slave State
            meant two more slave votes in the Senate, and an
            increase on the old inequitable basis of slave representation
            in the lower House of Congress. It meant
            to the Northern section indefinite Southern ascendency,
            prolonged Southern lead in national legislation.
            All the smouldering passions of the earlier period, of
            embargo, and non-intercourse, and the war of 1812,
            flamed suddenly and fiercely in the heart of the free
            States.

         </p><a class="newpage" name="P_103" id="P_103" title="P_103"></a><p>
            The length and bitterness of that controversy excited
            the gravest apprehensions for the stability of
            the Union. The dread of disunion led to mutual
            concessions, to the Missouri Compromise. The slave-holding
            section got its immediate claim allowed, and
            the free States secured the erection of a line to the
            north of which slavery was forever prohibited. And
            besides this, the admission of Maine was supposed to
            neutralize whatever political advantages, which would
            accrue to the South from the admission of Missouri
            as a slave State. Both sections were content, and the
            slavery question was thought to be permanently
            settled. With this final disposition of an ugly problem,
            the peace and permanence of the Union were
            viewed universally as fixed facts. Still, considering
            the gravity of the case, a little precaution would not
            go amiss. The slavery question had shaken men's
            faith in the durability of the republic. It was therefore
            adjudged a highly dangerous subject. The political
            physicians with one accord prescribed on the
            ounce-of-prevention principle, <em>quiet</em>, SILENCE, and
            OBLIVION, to be administered in large and increasing
            doses to both sections. Mum was the word, and
            mum the country solemnly and suddenly became
            from Maine to Georgia. But, alas! beneath the ashes
            of this Missouri business, deep below the unnatural
            silence and quiet, inextinguishable fires were burning
            and working again to the surface of politics. In such
            circumstances a fresh outbreak of old animosities
            must occur as soon as the subterranean heat should
            reach the point of highest combustibility in the
            federal system. The tariff proved to be that point of
            highest combustibility.

         </p><a class="newpage" name="P_104" id="P_104" title="P_104"></a><p>
            Alexander Hamilton inaugurated the policy of
            giving governmental aid to infant manufactures. The
            wisdom of diversifying the industries of the young
            nation was acquiesced in by the leading statesmen of
            both sections. Beset as the republic then was by
            international forces hostile to democratic institutions,
            it was natural enough that the great men who presided
            over its early years should seek by Federal legislation
            to render it, as speedily and completely as
            possible, industrially self-dependent and self-supporting.
            The war of 1812 enforced anew upon the
            attention of statesmen the importance of industrial independence.
            The war debt, together with certain governmental
            enterprises and expenditures growing out
            of the war, was largely, if not wholly, responsible for
            the tariff of 1816. This act dates the rise of our
            American system of protection. It is curious to note
            that Southern men were the leaders of this new departure
            in the national fiscal policy. Calhoun, Clay,
            and Lowndes were the guiding spirits of that period
            of industrial ferment and activity. They little dreamt
            what economic evils were to fall in consequence
            upon the South. That section was not slow to feel
            the unequal action of the protective principle. The
            character of its labor incapacitated the South from
            dividing the benefits of the new revenue policy with
            its free rival. The South of necessity was restricted
            to a single industry, the tillage of the earth. Slave
            labor did not possess the intelligence, the skill, the
            patience, the mechanical versatility to embark successfully
            in manufacturing enterprises. Free labor
            monopolised the protected industries, and Northern
            capital caught all the golden showers of fiscal legislation.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_105" id="P_105" title="P_105"></a>
            What the South needed, from an economic
            point of view, was unrestricted access to the markets
            of the world for her products, and the freest competition
            of the world in her own markets. The limitations
            imposed upon the slave States by their industrial
            system was in itself a tremendous handicap in their
            struggle for an advantageous place in the New World
            of the nineteenth century; in their struggle with
            their free sisters for political leadership in the Union.
            But with the development of the protective principle
            those States fell into sore financial distress, were
            ground between the upper millstone of the protective
            system and the nether millstone of their own industrial
            system. Prosperity and plenty did presently
            disappear from that section and settled in the North.
            In 1828 Benton drew this dark picture of the state of
            the South:

         </p>
         <p>
            "In place of wealth, a universal pressure for money
            was felt; not enough for common expenses; the
            price of all property down; the country drooping
            and languishing; towns and cities decaying, and the
            frugal habits of the people pushed to the verge of
            universal self-denial for the preservation of their
            family estates."

         </p>
         <p>
            He did not hesitate to charge to Federal legislation
            the responsibility for all this poverty and distress,
            for he proceeds to remark that:

         </p>
         <p>
            "Under this legislation the exports of the South
            have been made the basis of the Federal revenue.
            The twenty odd millions annually levied upon imported
            goods are deducted out of the price of their
            cotton, rice, and tobacco, either in the diminished
            prices which they receive for those staples in foreign
            <a class="newpage" name="P_106" id="P_106" title="P_106"></a>
            ports, or in the increased price which they pay for
            the articles they have to consume at home."

         </p>
         <p>
            A suffering people are not apt to reason clearly or
            justly on the causes which have brought them to indigence.
            They feel their wretchedness and reach out
            for a victim. And the law-making power usually
            happens to be that victim. As the distress of the
            South increased, the belief that Federal legislation
            was responsible for it increased likewise. The spread
            and deepening of this conviction in the Southern
            States precipitated among them an ominous crisis in
            their attachment to the Union. Nullification and an
            embittered sectionalism was the hateful legacy
            bequeathed to the republic by the tariff controversy.
            It left the South in a hyper-sensitive state in all matters
            relating to her domestic interests. It left the
            North in a hyper-sensitive condition on all matters
            touching the peace and stability of the Union. The
            silence and oblivion policy on the subject of slavery
            was renewed with tenfold intensity. Ulysses-like the
            free States bound themselves, their right of free
            speech, and their freedom of the press on this subject,
            for fear of the Siren voices which came thrilling on
            every breeze from the South. Quiet was the word,
            and quiet the leaders in Church and State sought to
            enforce upon the people, to the end that the vision of
            "States dissevered, discordant, belligerent, of a land
            rent with civil feuds, or drenched it may be, in fraternal
            blood," might not come to pass for their "glorious
            Union."

         </p>
         <p>
            The increasing friction and heat between the sections
            during twenty-five years, had effected every portion
            of the Federal system, and created conditions
            <a class="newpage" name="P_107" id="P_107" title="P_107"></a>
            favorable to a violent explosion. Sectional differences
            of a political and industrial complexion, forty years
            had sufficed to develop. Sectional differences of a
            moral and social character forty years had also sufficed
            to generate. To kindle all those differences, all
            that mass of combustible feelings and forces into a
            general conflagration a spark only was wanted. And
            out of the glowing humanity of one man the spark
            was suddenly struck.

         </p>
         <p>
            It is curious to note that in the year 1829, the very
            year in which William Lloyd Garrison landed in Baltimore,
            and began the editorship of <i>The Genius of
               Universal Emancipation</i>, the American Convention, or
            national assembly of the old State societies for the
            abolition of slavery, fell into desuetude. It was as if
            Providence was clearing the debris of an old dispensation
            out of the way of the new one which his
            prophet was beginning to herald, as if guarding
            against all possibility of having the new wine, then
            soon to be pressed from the moral vintage of the
            nation, put into old bottles. The Hour for a new
            movement against slavery had come, and with its
            arrival the Man to hail it had also come.

         </p>
         <p>
            Other men had spoken and written against slavery,
            and labored for the freedom of the slave before Garrison
            had thought upon the subject at all. Washington
            and Jefferson, Franklin, Jay, and Hamilton had
            been Abolitionists before he was born, but theirs was
            a divided interest. The establishment of a more perfect
            union was the paramount object of their lives.
            John Wesley had denounced slavery in language
            quite as harsh as Garrison's, but his, too, was a
            divided interest, the religious revival of the eighteenth
            <a class="newpage" name="P_108" id="P_108" title="P_108"></a>
            century being his distinctive mission. Benezet,
            Woolman, and Lundy were saints, who had yearned
            with unspeakable sympathy for the black bondmen,
            and were indefatigable in good works in his behalf,
            but they had not that stern and iron quality without
            which reforms cannot be launched upon the attention
            of mankind. What his predecessors lacked, Garrison
            possessed to a marvelous degree&#8212;the undivided
            interest, the supremacy of a single purpose, the stern
            stuff out of which the moral reformer is made, and in
            which he is panoplied. They were all his, but there
            was another besides&#8212;immediatism. This element
            distinguished the movement against slavery, started
            by him, from all other movements begun before he
            arrived on the stage, for the emancipation of the
            slaves in the Union.

         </p>
         <p>
            This doctrine of immediate as opposed to gradual
            emancipation, was not original with Garrison,
            nor was he the first to enunciate it. More than
            a dozen years before he was converted to it, Rev.
            George Bourne, in "The Book and Slavery Irreconcilable,"
            had shown that "the system (of slavery) is
            so entirely corrupt that it admits of no cure but by
            a <em>total and immediate abolition</em>. For a gradual emancipation
            is a virtual recognition of the right, and establishes
            the rectitude of the practice. If it be just
            for one moment, it is hallowed forever; and if it be
            inequitable, not a day should it be tolerated." In
            1824, eight years after the publication of Bourne's
            book, and five years before Garrison announced the
            doctrine in the <i>Genius</i>, the Rev. James Duncan
            maintained it, in his "Treatise on Slavery," with no uncertainty
            of sense or conviction. But neither Bourne
            <a class="newpage" name="P_109" id="P_109" title="P_109"></a>
            nor Duncan had been able to effect an incarnation of
            the doctrine, without which the good which it aimed
            at could not be achieved. What they failed to effect,
            it is the glory of Garrison that he achieved in his
            own person. He was "<em>total and immediate Abolition</em>"
            personified. "Truth is mighty and will prevail," is
            a wise saying and worthy of acceptation. But this
            ultimate prevailing of TRUTH depends mainly upon
            individual effort, applied not intermittently, but
            steadily to a particular segment of the circle of conduct.
            It is the long, strong, never-ending pull and tug
            upon the wheels of conduct, which marks the great
            reformer. He finds his age or country stuck in some
            Serbonian bog of iniquity. He prays, but he prays
            with his shoulders braced strenuously against the
            body of society, and he does not cease his endeavors
            until a revolution in conduct places his age or country
            on firm ground beyond its Serbonian bog. The coming
            of such a man is no accident. When the Hour is
            ready and the Man comes, a new epoch in the life of
            a people arises from the conjunction. Of such vast
            consequence verily was the coming into American
            history of William Lloyd Garrison.

         </p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap5"></a>
            CHAPTER V.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS.

         </h2><a class="newpage" name="P_110" id="P_110" title="P_110"></a><p>
            After leaving Baltimore, Garrison clung pathetically
            to the belief that, if he told what he had seen
            of the barbarism of slavery to the North, he would
            be certain to enlist the sympathy and aid of its leaders,
            political and ecclesiastical, in the cause of emancipation.
            The sequel to his efforts in this regard
            proved that he was never more mistaken in his life.
            He addressed letters to men like Webster, Jeremiah
            Mason, Lyman Beecher, and Dr. Channing, "holding
            up to their view the tremendous iniquity of the land,
            and begging them, ere it should be too late, to interpose
            their great power in the Church and State, to
            save our country from the terrible calamities which
            the sin of slavery was bringing upon us." But there
            is no evidence that this appeal produced the feeblest
            ripple in the lives of the two first; and upon the two
            last it was equally barren of result. Dr. Channing,
            indeed, did not take the trouble to hear any one of
            the three lectures of the young philanthropist. Dr.
            Beecher, however, was at the pains to be present at
            the first lecture given at Julien Hall. But he betrayed
            no real interest in the subject. He had no
            time to devote to anti-slavery, had, in fine, too many
            irons in the fire already. To this impotent apology
            of the great preacher of immediatism in his dealing
            <a class="newpage" name="P_111" id="P_111" title="P_111"></a>
            with all kinds of sin, except the sin of slave-holding,
            for not espousing the cause of the slave, Mr. Garrison
            made his famous retort:

         </p>
         <blockquote>
            <p>
               "Then you had better let all your irons burn than
               neglect your duty to the slave."

            </p>
         </blockquote>
         <p>
            What more did this poor and friendless man, with
            his one idea and his harsh language, know of duties
            and dangers than Daniel Webster, who was busy saving
            the Union; than Lyman Beecher, who was not
            less busy saving souls; or than Dr. Channing, who was
            quite as busy saving liberalism in matters of religion?
            What folly and presumption it must have seemed to
            these mighty men this attempt of Garrison to impress
            upon them a proper sense of their obligations to their
            country.

         </p>
         <p>
            "Your zeal," said Dr. Beecher to him, with unlimited
            condescension of tone&#8212;"your zeal is commendable,
            but you are misguided. If you will give up
            your fanatical notions and be guided by us (the
            clergy) we will make you the Wilberforce of
            America."

         </p>
         <p>
            And so what was the young man, burning up with
            his one idea, to do in presence of such a failure to
            win these men to the leadership of the anti-slavery
            movement? He could not hold his peace; his message
            he was compelled to deliver in the ears of the
            nation whether its leaders would hear or forbear.
            Perhaps the common people would hearken to what
            the wise and powerful had rejected. At any rate
            they should hear what was resting upon his soul with
            the weight of a great woe, the force of a supreme
            command. But how was he, penniless and friendless,
            to roll from his bosom the burden which was crushing
            <a class="newpage" name="P_112" id="P_112" title="P_112"></a>
            it; to pause long enough in the battle for bread
            to fight the battle of the slave? Ah, if he had money!
            but no money did he have, not a dollar in his pocket!
            Oh, if he had rich friends who would dedicate their
            riches to the preaching of the gospel of freedom! but
            alas! rich friends there were none. Oh, if he could
            cry to the Church for help in this hour of his need!
            but it was slowly dawning on him that not from the
            Church would help come to his cause; for a grievous
            thing had happened to the Church. The slave gorgon
            sat staring from the pews, and turning the pulpits
            to stone, turning also to stone the hearts of the
            people.

         </p>
         <p>
            Undismayed by the difficulties which were closing
            in around him, Garrison resolutely set himself to
            accomplish his purpose touching the establishment
            of a weekly paper devoted to the abolition of slavery.
            He had promised in his <i>Prospectus</i> to issue the
            first number of the <i>Public Liberator</i> "as soon as
            subscriptions thereto may authorize the attempt." But had
            he waited for the fulfillment of this condition, the
            experiment could never have been tried. When subscribers
            did not come in, the paper, he determined
            should go forth all the same. But there are some
            things in the publication of a paper which no man
            can dispense with, which indispensable somethings
            are: types, a press, an office, and an assistant. All
            these requisites were wanting to the man whose sole
            possession seemed an indomitable will, a faith in himself,
            and in the righteousness of his cause, which nothing
            could shake, nor disappointment nor difficulty,
            however great, was able to daunt or deter. To such
            an unconquerable will, to such an invincible faith
            <a class="newpage" name="P_113" id="P_113" title="P_113"></a>
            obstacles vanish; the impossible becomes the attainable.
            As Garrison burned to be about his work, help
            came to him from a man quite as penniless and
            friendless as himself. The man was Isaac Knapp, an
            old companion of his in Newburyport, who had also
            worked with him in the office of the <i>Genius</i>, in
            Baltimore. He was a practical printer, and was precisely
            the sort of assistant that the young reformer needed
            at this juncture in the execution of his purpose; a
            man like himself acquainted with poverty, and of unlimited
            capacity for the endurance of unlimited hardships.
            Together they worked out the financial problems
            which blocked the way to the publication of the
            paper. The partners took an office in Merchants'
            Hall building, then standing on the corner of Congress
            and Water streets, Boston, which gave their
            joint enterprise a local habitation. It had already a
            name. They obtained the use of types in the printing
            office of the <i>Christian Examiner</i>, situated in the
            same building. The foreman, Stephen Foster,
            through his ardent interest in Abolition, made the
            three first numbers of the paper possible. The publishers
            paid for the use of the types by working
            during the day at the case in the <i>Examiner's</i>
            office. They got the use of a press from another foreman
            with Abolition sympathies, viz., James B. Yerrington,
            then the printer of the Boston <i>Daily Advocate</i>.
            Thus were obtained the four indispensables to the publication
            of the <i>Liberator</i>&#8212;types, a press, an office, and
            an assistant.

         </p>
         <p>
            When at length the offspring of such labor and
            sacrifices made its appearance in the world, which
            was on January 1, 1831, it was, in point of size, insignificant
            <a class="newpage" name="P_114" id="P_114" title="P_114"></a>
            enough. It did not look as if its voice would
            ever reach beyond the small dark chamber where it
            saw the light. Picture, oh! reader, a wee sheet
            with four columns to the page, measuring fourteen
            inches one way and nine and a quarter the other,
            and you will get an idea of the diminutiveness of the
            <i>Liberator</i> on the day of its birth. The very paper
            on which it was printed was procured on credit. To
            the ordinary observer it must have seemed such a weakling
            as was certain to perish from inanition in the
            first few months of its struggle for existence in the
            world of journalism. It was domiciled during successive
            periods in four different rooms of the
            Merchant's Hall building, until it reached No. 11,
            "under the eaves," whence it issued weekly for many
            years to call the nation to repentance. A photographic
            impression of this cradle-room of the anti-slavery
            movement has been left by Oliver Johnson, an eye-witness.
            Says Mr. Johnson: "The dingy walls;
            the small windows, bespattered with printer's ink;
            the press standing in one corner; the composing-stands
            opposite; the long editorial and mailing
            table, covered with newspapers; the bed of the
            editor and publisher on the floor&##8212;all these make
            a picture never to be forgotten." For the first
            eighteen months the partners toiled fourteen hours a
            day, and subsisted "chiefly upon bread and milk, a
            few cakes, and a little fruit, obtained from a baker's
            shop opposite, and a petty cake and fruit shop in the
            basement," and, alas, "were on short commons even at
            that." Amid such hard and grinding poverty was
            the <i>Liberator</i> born. But the great end of the
            reformer glorified the mean surroundings:

         </p><a class="newpage" name="P_115" id="P_115" title="P_115"></a><div class="lg">"O truth! O Freedom! how are ye still born<br>In the rude stable, in the manger nursed;<br>What humble hands unbar those gates of morn<br>Through which the splendors of the New Day burst."<br><br></div>
         <p>
            About the brow of this "infant crying in the night,"
            shone aureole-like the sunlit legend: <em>Our country is the
               world&#8212;our countrymen are mankind.</em> The difference between
            this motto of the <i>Liberator</i> and that of the
            <i>Free Press</i>: <em>Our country, our whole country,
               and nothing but our country</em>&#8212;measures the greatness of the revolution
            which had taken place in the young editor.
            The grand lesson he had learned, than which there is
            none greater, that beneath diversities of race, color,
            creed, language, there is the one human principle,
            which makes all men kin. He had learned at the age
            of twenty-five to know the mark of brotherhood made
            by the Deity Himself: "Behold! my brother is man,
            not because he is American or Anglo-Saxon, or white
            or black, but because he is a fellow-man," is the simple,
            sublime acknowledgment, which thenceforth he was
            to make in his word and life.

         </p>
         <p>
            It was Mr. Garrison's original design, as we have
            seen, to publish the <i>Liberator</i> from Washington.
            Lundy had, since the issue of the <i>Prospectus</i> for
            the new paper, removed the <i>Genius</i> to the capital
            of the nation. This move of Lundy rendered the establishment
            of a second paper devoted to the abolition of
            slavery in the same place, of doubtful utility, but,
            weighty as was this consideration from a mere business
            point of view, in determining Garrison to locate
            the <i>Liberator</i> in another quarter, it was not
            decisive. Just what was the decisive consideration, he reveals
            in his salutatory address in the <i>Liberator</i>. Here
            it is:

         </p><a class="newpage" name="P_116" id="P_116" title="P_116"></a><p>
            "During my recent tour for the purpose of exciting
            the minds of the people by a series of discourses on
            the subject of slavery," he confides to the reader,
            "every place that I visited gave fresh evidence of the
            fact, that a greater revolution in public sentiment
            was to be effected in the free States&#8212;<em>and particularly
               in New England</em>&#8212;than at the South. I found contempt
            more bitter, opposition more active, detraction
            more relentless; prejudice more stubborn, and apathy
            more frozen than among slaveowners themselves.
            Of course there were individual exceptions to the
            contrary. This state of things afflicted, but did not
            dishearten me. I determined, at every hazard, to lift
            up the standard of emancipation in the eyes of the
            nation, <em>within sight of Bunker Hill, and in the birthplace
               of liberty</em>." This final choice of Boston as a base from
            which to operate against slavery was sagacious, and
            of the greatest moment to the success of the experiment
            and to its effective service to the cause.

         </p>
         <p>
            If the reformer changed his original intention respecting
            the place of publication for his paper, he made
            no alteration of his position on the subject of slavery.
            "I shall strenuously contend," he declares in the salutatory,
            "for the immediate enfranchisement of our
            slave population." "In Park Street Church," he goes
            on to add, "on the Fourth of July, 1829, in an address
            on slavery, I unreflectingly assented to the popular
            but pernicious doctrine of <em>gradual</em> abolition. I seize
            this opportunity to make a full and unequivocal
            recantation, and thus publicly to ask pardon of my
            God, of my country, and of my brethren, the poor
            slaves, for having uttered a sentiment so full of timidity,
            injustice, and absurdity."

         </p><a class="newpage" name="P_117" id="P_117" title="P_117"></a><p>
            To those who find fault with his harsh language he
            makes reply: "I <em>will</em> be as harsh as truth, and as
            uncompromising as justice. On this subject, I do not
            wish to think, or speak, or write, with moderation.
            No! no! Tell a man whose house is on fire to give a
            moderate alarm; tell him to moderately rescue his
            wife from the hands of the ravisher; tell the mother
            to gradually extricate her babe from the fire into
            which it has fallen&#8212;but urge me not to use moderation
            in a cause like the present. I am in earnest&#8212;I
            will not equivocate&#8212;I will not excuse&#8212;I will not
            retreat a single inch&#8212;AND I WILL BE HEARD." Martin
            Luther's "Here I take my stand," was not braver
            or grander than the "I will be heard," of the American
            reformer. It did not seem possible that a young
            man, without influence, without money, standing
            almost alone, could ever make good those courageous
            words. The country, in Church and State, had
            decreed silence on the subject of slavery; the patriotism
            of the North, its commerce, its piety, its labor and
            capital had all joined hands to smother agitation, and
            stifle the discussion of a question that imperilled the
            peace and durability of Webster's glorious Union.
            But one man, tearing the gag from his lips, defying
            all these, cried, "Silence, there shall not be!" and
            forthwith the whole land began to talk on the forbidden
            theme:

         </p>
         <div class="lg">"O small beginnings ye are great and strong,<br>Based on a faithful heart and weariless brain!<br>Ye build the future fair, ye conquer wrong.<br>Ye earn the crown, and wear it not in vain!"<br><br></div>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap6"></a>
            CHAPTER VI.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            THE HEAVY WORLD IS MOVED.

         </h2><a class="newpage" name="P_118" id="P_118" title="P_118"></a><p>
            Archimedes with his lever desired a place to stand
            that he might move the world of matter. Garrison
            with his paper, having found a place for his feet,
            demonstrated speedily his ability to push from its
            solid base the world of mind. His plan was very
            simple, viz., to reveal slavery as it then existed in its
            naked enormity, to the conscience of the North, to be
            "as harsh as truth and as uncompromising as justice."
            And so, week after week, he packed in the columns of
            the <i>Liberator</i> facts, the most damning facts,
            against slaveholders, their cruelty and tyranny. He painted
            the woes of the slaves as if he, too, had been a slave.
            For the first time the masters found a man who
            rebuked them as not before had they been rebuked.
            Others may have equivocated, but this man called
            things by their proper names, a spade, a spade, and
            sin, sin. Others may have contented themselves with
            denunciations of the sins and with excuses for the
            sinner, as a creature of circumstances, the victim of
            ancestral transgressions, but this man offered no excuses
            for the slave-holding sinner. Him and his sin he
            denounced in language, which the Eternal puts only
            into the mouths of His prophets. It was, as he had
            said, "On this subject I do not wish to think, or
            speak, or write, with moderation." The strength and
            resources of his mother-tongue seemed to him wholly
            <a class="newpage" name="P_119" id="P_119" title="P_119"></a>
            inadequate for his needs, to express the transcendent
            wickedness of slave-holding. All the harsh, the
            stern, the terrible and tremendous energies of the
            English speech he drew upon, and launched at slaveholders.
            Amid all of this excess of the enthusiast
            there was the method of a calculating mind. He
            aimed to kindle a conflagration because he had icebergs
            to melt. "The public shall not be imposed
            upon," he replied to one of his critics, "and men and
            things shall be called by their right names. I retract
            nothing, I blot out nothing. My language is exactly
            such as suits me; it will displease many, I know; to
            displease them is my intention." He was philosopher
            enough to see that he could reach the national conscience
            only by exciting the national anger. It was
            not popular rage, which he feared but popular apathy.
            If he could goad the people to anger on the
            subject of slavery he would soon be rid of their apathy.
            And so week after week he piled every sort of
            combustible material, which he was able to collect on
            board the <i>Liberator</i> and lighting it all, sent the
            fiery messenger blazing among the icebergs of the Union.
            Slaveholders were robbers, murderers, oppressors;
            they were guilty of all the sins of the decalogue, were
            in a word the chief of sinners. At the same moment
            that the reformer denied their right of property in
            the slave, he attacked their character also, held them
            up in their relation of masters to the reprobation of
            the nation and of mankind as monsters of injustice
            and inhumanity. The tone which he held toward
            them, steadily, without shadow of change, was the
            tone of a righteous man toward the workers of iniquity.
            The indifference, the apathy, the pro-slavery
            <a class="newpage" name="P_120" id="P_120" title="P_120"></a>
            sympathy and prejudice of the free States rendered the
            people of the North hardly less culpable. They were
            working iniquity with the people of the South. This
            was the long, sharp goad, which the young editor
            thrust in between the bars of the Union and stirred
            the guilty sections to quick and savage outbursts of
            temper against him and the bitter truths which he
            preached. Almost directly the proofs came to him
            that he was HEARD at the South and at the North
            alike. Angry growls reached his ears in the first
            month of the publication of the <i>Liberator</i> from
            some heartless New England editors in denunciation of his
            "violent and intemperate attacks on slaveholders."
            The <i>Journal</i>, published at Louisville, Kentucky,
            and edited by George D. Prentice, declared that, "some
            of his opinions with regard to slavery in the United
            States are no better than lunacy." The <i>American
               Spectator</i> published at the seat of the National Government,
            had hoped that the good sense of the "late talented
            and persecuted junior editor" of the <i>Genius</i>,
            "would erelong withdraw him even from the side of
            the Abolitionists." And from farther South the growl
            which the reformer heard was unmistakably ferocious.
            It was from the State of South Carolina and
            the Camden <i>Journal</i>, which pronounced the
            <i>Liberator</i>
            "a scandalous and incendiary budget of sedition."
            These were the beginning of the chorus of curses,
            which soon were to sing their serpent songs about his
            head. Profane and abusive letters from irate slaveholders
            and their Northern sympathisers began to
            pour into the sanctum of the editor. Within a few
            months after the first issue of the <i>Liberator</i> the
            whole aspect of the world without had changed toward
            <a class="newpage" name="P_121" id="P_121" title="P_121"></a>
            him. "Foes are on my right hand, and on my left,"
            he reported to some friends. "The tongue of detraction
            is busy against me. I have no communion with
            the world&#8212;the world none with me. The timid, the
            lukewarm, the base, affect to believe that my brains are
            disordered, and my words the ravings of a maniac.
            Even many of my friends&#8212;they who have grown up
            with me from my childhood&#8212;are transformed into
            scoffers and enemies." The apathy of the press, and
            the apathy of the people were putting forth signs
            that the long winter of the land was passing away.

         </p>
         <p>
            To a colored man belongs the high honor of having
            been the <i>courier avant</i> of the slavery
            agitation. This man was David Walker, who lived in Boston, and
            who published in 1829 a religio-political discussion
            of the status of the negroes of the United States in
            four articles. The wretchedness of the blacks in consequence
            of slavery he depicted in dark and bitter
            language. Theodore Parker, many years afterward,
            said that the negro was deficient in vengeance, the
            lowest form of justice. "Walker's Appeal" evinced
            no deficiency in this respect in its author. The pamphlet
            found its way South, and was the cause of no
            little commotion among the master-class. It was
            looked upon as an instigation to servile insurrection.
            The "Appeal" was proscribed, and a price put upon
            the head of the author. Garrison deprecated the
            sanguinary character of the book. For he himself
            was the very reverse of Walker. Garrison was a full
            believer in the literal doctrine of non-resistance as
            enunciated by Jesus. He abhorred all war, and physical
            collisions of every description, as wicked and
            inhuman. He sang to the slave:

         </p>
         <div class="lg"><a class="newpage" name="P_122" id="P_122" title="P_122"></a>"Not by the sword shall your deliverance be;<br>Not by the shedding of your master's blood,<br>Not by rebellion&#8212;or foul treachery,<br>Upspringing suddenly, like swelling flood;<br>Revenge and rapine ne'er did bring forth good.<br>God's <em>time is best</em>!&#8212;nor will it long delay;<br>Even now your barren cause begins to bud,<br>And glorious shall the fruit be!&#8212;watch and pray,<br>For lo! the kindling dawn that ushers in the day."<br><br></div>
         <p>
            He considered "Walker's Appeal" "a most injudicious
            publication, yet warranted by the creed of an
            independent people." He saw in our Fourth-of-July
            demonstrations, in our glorification of force as an
            instrument for achieving liberty, a constant incentive
            to the slaves to go and do likewise. If it was right
            for the men of 1776 to rise in rebellion against their
            mother-country, it surely could not be wrong were
            the slaves to revolt against their oppressors, and
            strike for their freedom. It certainly did not lie in
            the mouth of a people, who apotheosized force, to
            condemn them. What was sauce for the white man's
            goose was sauce for the black man's gander.

         </p>
         <p>
            The South could not distinguish between this sort
            of reasoning, and an express and positive appeal to
            the slaves to cut the throats of their masters. The
            contents of the <i>Liberator</i> were quite as likely
            to produce a slave insurrection as was "Walker's Appeal,"
            if the paper was allowed to circulate freely among
            the slave population. It was, in fact, more dangerous
            to the lives and interests of slaveholders by virtue of
            the pictorial representation of the barbarism and
            abomination of the peculiar institution, introduced
            as a feature of the <i>Liberator</i> in its seventeenth
            number, in the shape of a slave auction, where the slaves
            <a class="newpage" name="P_123" id="P_123" title="P_123"></a>
            are chattels, and classed with "horses and other
            cattle," and where the tortures of the whipping-post
            are in vigorous operation. Here was a message,
            which every slave, however ignorant and illiterate
            could read. His instinct would tell him, wherever
            he saw the pictured horror, that a friend, not an
            enemy, had drawn it, but for what purpose? What
            was the secret meaning, which he was to extract from
            a portrayal of his woes at once so real and terrible.
            Was it to be a man, to seize the knife, the torch, to
            slay and burn his way to the rights and estate of a
            man? Garrison had put no such bloody import into
            the cut. It was designed not to appeal to the passions
            of the slaves, but to the conscience of the
            North. But the South did not so read it, was incapable,
            in fact, of so reading it. What it saw was a
            shockingly realistic representation of the wrongs of
            the slaves, the immediate and inevitable effect of
            which upon the slaves would be to incite them to
            sedition, to acts of revenge. Living as the slaveholders
            were over mines of powder and dynamite, it
            is not to be marveled at that the first flash of danger
            filled them with apprehension and terror. The awful
            memories of San Domingo flamed red and dreadful
            against the dark background of every Southern
            plantation and slave community. In the "belly" of
            the <i>Liberator's</i> picture were many San Domingos.
            Extreme fear is the beginning of madness; it is, indeed,
            a kind of madness. The South was suddenly plunged
            into a state of extreme fear toward which the
            <i>Liberator</i> and "Walker's Appeal" were hurrying it,
            by one of those strange accidents or coincidences of
            history.

         </p>
         <p><a class="newpage" name="P_124" id="P_124" title="P_124"></a>
            This extraordinary circumstance was the slave insurrection
            in Southampton, Virginia, in the month of
            August, 1831. The leader of the uprising was the
            now famous Nat Turner. Brooding over the wrongs
            of his race for several years, he conceived that he
            was the divinely appointed agent to redress them.
            He was cast in the mould of those rude heroes, who
            spring out of the sides of oppression as isolated trees
            will sometimes grow out of clefts in a mountain.
            With his yearning to deliver his people, there mingled
            not a little religious frenzy and superstition. Getting
            his command from Heaven to arise against the masters,
            he awaited the sign from this same source of
            the moment for beginning the work of destruction.
            It came at last and on the night of August 21st; he and
            his confederates made a beginning by massacring
            first his own master, Mr. Joseph Travis, and his entire
            family. Turner's policy was remorseless enough.
            It was to spare no member of the white race, whether
            man, woman, or child, the very infant at the mother's
            breast was doomed to the knife, until he was able to
            collect such an assured force as would secure the success
            of the enterprise. This purpose was executed
            with terrible severity and exactness. All that night
            the work of extermination went on as the slave leader
            and his followers passed like fate from house to
            house, and plantation to plantation, leaving a wide
            swathe of death in their track. Terror filled the
            night, terror filled the State, the most abject terror
            clutched the bravest hearts. The panic was pitiable,
            horrible. James McDowell, one of the leaders of the
            Old Dominion, gave voice to the awful memories
            and sensations of that night, in the great anti-slavery
            <a class="newpage" name="P_125" id="P_125" title="P_125"></a>
            debate, which broke out in the Virginia Legislature,
            during the winter afterward. One of the
            legislators, joined to his idol, and who now, that
            the peril had passed, laughed at the uprising as a
            "petty affair." McDowell retorted&#8212;"Was that a
            'petty affair,' which erected a peaceful and confiding
            portion of the State into a military camp, which outlawed
            from pity the unfortunate beings whose brothers
            had offended; which barred every door, penetrated
            every bosom with fear or suspicion, which so
            banished every sense of security from every man's
            dwelling, that let but a hoof or horn break upon the
            silence of the night, and an aching throb would be
            driven to the heart? The husband would look to his
            weapon, and the mother would shudder and weep
            upon her cradle. Was it the fear of Nat Turner and
            his deluded, drunken handful of followers which produced
            such effects? Was it this that induced distant
            counties, where the very name of Southampton was
            strange, to arm and equip for a struggle? No, sir, it
            was the <em>suspicion eternally
               attached to the slave himself,</em>&#8212;a
            suspicion that a Nat Turner might be in every
            family, that the same bloody deed might be acted
            over at any time and in any place, that the materials
            for it were spread through the land, and were always
            ready for a like explosion."

         </p>
         <p>
            Sixty one whites and more than a hundred blacks
            perished in this catastrophe. The news produced a
            profound sensation in the Union. Garrison himself,
            as he records, was horror-struck at the tidings.
            Eight months before he had in a strain of prophecy
            penetrated the future and caught a glimpse of just
            such an appalling tragedy:

         </p>
         <div class="lg"><a class="newpage" name="P_126" id="P_126" title="P_126"></a>"Wo, if it come with storm, and blood, and fire,<br>When midnight darkness veils the earth and sky!<br>Wo to the innocent babe&#8212;the guilty sire&#8212;<br>Mother and daughter&#8212;friends of kindred tie!<br><em>Stranger and citizen alike shall die!</em><br>Red-handed slaughter his revenge shall feed,<br>And havoc yell his ominous death-cry,<br>And wild despair in vain for mercy plead&#8212;<br>While hell itself shall shrink and sicken at the deed!"<br><br></div>
         <p>
            After the Southampton insurrection the slavery
            agitation increased apace, and the <i>Liberator</i> and
            its editor became instantly objects of dangerous notoriety
            in it. The eyes of the country were irresistibly
            drawn to them. They were at the bottom of the uprising,
            they were instigating the slaves to similar
            outbreaks. The savage growlings of a storm came
            thrilling on every breeze from the South, and wrathful
            mutterings against the agitator and his paper
            grew thenceforth more distinct and threatening
            throughout the free States. October 15, 1831, Garrison
            records in the <i>Liberator</i> that he "is constantly
            receiving from the slave States letters filled with the
            most diabolical threats and indecent language." In
            the same month Georgetown, S.C., in a panic made
            it unlawful for a free colored person to take the
            <i>Liberator</i>
            from the post-office. In the same month the
            Charleston <i>Mercury</i> announced that "gentlemen of
            the first respectability" at Columbia had offered a
            reward of fifteen hundred dollars for the arrest and
            conviction of any white person circulating the
            <i>Liberator</i>,
            Walker's pamphlet, "or any other publication of
            seditious tendency." In Georgia the same symptoms
            of fright were exhibited. In the same month the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_127" id="P_127" title="P_127"></a>
            grand jury at Raleigh, N.C., indicted William Lloyd
            Garrison and Isaac Knapp for circulating the
            <i>Liberator</i>
            in that county. It was even confidently expected
            that a requisition would be made by the Executive of
            the State upon the Governor of Massachusetts for
            their arrest, when they would be tried under a law,
            which made their action felony. "Whipping and
            imprisonment for the first offence, and death, without
            benefit of clergy, for the second." Governor Floyd
            said in his message to the Virginia Legislature in
            December that there was good cause to suspect that
            the plans of the Southampton massacre were "designed
            and matured by unrestrained fanatics in some
            of the neighboring States." Governor Hamilton sent
            to the South Carolina Legislature in the same month
            an excited message on the situation. He was in
            entire accord with the Virginia Executive as to the
            primary and potent agencies which led to the slave
            uprising in Virginia. They were "incendiary newspapers
            and other publications put forth in the non-slave-holding
            States, and freely circulated within the
            limits of Virginia." As specimens of "incendiary
            newspapers and other publications, put forth in the
            non-slave-holding States," the South Carolina official
            sent along with his message, copies of the
            <i>Liberator</i>
            and of Mr. Garrison's address to the "Free People of
            Color," for the enlightenment of the members of the
            Legislature. But it remained for Georgia to cap the
            climax of madness when her Legislature resolved:

         </p>
         <blockquote>
            <p>
               "That the sum of five thousand dollars be, and the
               same is hereby appropriated, to be paid to any person
               or persons who shall arrest, bring to trial and prosecute
               to conviction, under the laws of this State, the editor
               <a class="newpage" name="P_128" id="P_128" title="P_128"></a>
               or publisher of a certain paper called the
               <i>Liberator</i>,
               published in the town of Boston and State of Massachusetts;
               or who shall arrest and bring to trial and
               prosecute to conviction, under the laws of this State,
               any other person or persons who shall utter, publish,
               or circulate within the limits of this State said paper
               called the <i>Liberator</i>, or any other paper,
               circular, pamphlet, letter, or address of a seditious character."

            </p>
         </blockquote>
         <p>
            This extraordinary resolve was signed Dec. 26, 1831,
            by "Wilson Lumpkin, Governor." The whole South
            was in a state of terror. In its insane fright it would
            have made short shrift of the editor of the
            <i>Liberator,</i>
            had he by accident, force, or fraud have fallen into
            the clutches of its laws. The Georgia reward of five
            thousand dollars was as Mr. Garrison put it, "a bribe
            to kidnappers." The Southern method of dealing
            with the agitation within the slave States was violent
            and effective. There could be no agitation after the
            agitators were abolished. And the Southern method
            was to abolish the agitators.

         </p>
         <p>
            The suppression of Abolitionism within the slave
            States was no difficult matter, but its suppression at
            the North was a problem of a wholly different nature,
            as the South was not long in finding out. It would
            not understand why its violent treatment of the disease
            within its jurisdiction could not be prescribed as a
            remedy by the non-slave-holding half of the Union
            within its borders. And so the South began to call
            loudly and fiercely for the suppression of a movement
            calculated to incite the slaves to insubordination and
            rebellion. This demand of the South had its influence
            at the North. Such newspapers as the <i>National
               Intelligencer,</i> and the Boston <i>Courier</i>
            suggested
            <a class="newpage" name="P_129" id="P_129" title="P_129"></a>
            amendments to the laws whereby the publication of
            incendiary writings in the free States might be prohibited.
            The latter journal allowed that under the
            criminal code of Massachusetts "every man has a
            right to advocate Abolition, or conspiracy, or murder;
            for he may do all these without breaking our
            laws, although in any Southern State public justice
            and public safety would require his punishment."
            "But," the editor goes on to remark, "if we have no
            laws upon the subject, it is because the exigency
            was not anticipated.... Penal statutes against
            treasonable and seditious publications are necessary
            in all communities. We have them for our own protection;
            if they should include provisions for the protection
            of our neighbors it would be no additional
            encroachment upon the liberty of the press." The
            Governors of Virginia and Georgia remonstrated with
            Harrison Gray Otis, who was Mayor of Boston in
            the memorable year of 1831, "against an incendiary
            newspaper published in Boston, and, as they alleged,
            thrown broadcast among their plantations, inciting to
            insurrection and its horrid results." As a lawyer
            Mayor Otis, however, "perceived the intrinsic, if not
            insuperable obstacles to legislative enactments made
            to prevent crimes from being consummated beyond
            the local jurisdiction." But the South was not seeking
            a legal opinion as to what it could or could not
            do. It demanded, legal or illegal, that Garrison and the
            <i>Liberator</i> be suppressed. To the Boston mayor the
            excitement over the editor and his paper seemed like
            much ado about nothing. The cause appeared to
            his supercilious mind altogether inadequate to the
            effect. And so he set to work to reduce the panic by
            <a class="newpage" name="P_130" id="P_130" title="P_130"></a>
            exposing the vulgarity and insignificance of the
            object, which produced it. That he might give the
            Southern bugaboo its <i>quietus</i>, he directed one of
            his deputies to inquire into a publication, of which "no
            member of the city government, nor any person," of
            his honor's acquaintance, "had ever heard." The
            result of this inquiry Mayor Otis reported to the
            Southern functionaries.

         </p>
         <p>
            "Some time afterward," he wrote, "it was reported
            to me by the city officers that they had ferreted out
            the paper and its editor; that his office was an obscure
            hole, his only visible auxiliary a negro boy, and
            his supporters a very few insignificant persons of all
            colors."

         </p>
         <p>
            With this bare bodkin Harrison Gray Otis thought
            to puncture the Southern panic. But the slaveholders
            had correcter notions of the nature and tendency
            of the Abolition enterprise than had the Boston
            mayor. They had a strange, an obstinate presentiment of disaster from the
            first instant that the <i>Liberator</i>
            loomed upon their horizon. It was a battery
            whose guns, unless silenced, would play havoc
            with Southern interests and the slave system; <i>ergo</i>,
            the paper must be suppressed; <i>ergo</i>, its editor must
            be silenced or destroyed. And so when Otis, from
            his serene height, assured them of his "belief that
            the new fanaticism had not made, nor was likely to
            make, proselytes among the respectable classes of
            our people," they continued to listen to their fears,
            and to cry the louder for the suppression of the
            "incendiary newspaper published in Boston."

         </p>
         <p>
            The editor of that paper never flinched before the
            storm of malignity which was gathering about his
            <a class="newpage" name="P_131" id="P_131" title="P_131"></a>
            head. He pursued the even tenor of his way, laboring
            at the case more than fourteen hours every day,
            except Sundays, upon the paper, renewing, week after
            week, his assaults upon the citadel of the great iniquity,
            giving no quarter to slave-holding sinners, but
            carrying aloft the banner of IMMEDIATE AND UNCONDITIONAL
            EMANCIPATION. Otis had looked to numbers
            and respectability as his political barometer and
            cue; but when, after diligent search with official
            microscopes, he failed to observe the presence of
            either in connection with this "new fanaticism," wise
            man that he was, he turned over and renewed his slumbers
            on the edge of a volcano whose ominous rumbling
            the Southern heart had heard and interpreted
            aright. He was too near to catch the true import of
            the detonations of those subterranean forces which
            were sounding, week after week, in the columns of
            the <i>Liberator</i>. They seemed trivial, harmless,
            contemptible, like the toy artillery of children bombarding
            Fort Independence. Garrison's moral earnestness
            and enthusiasm seemed to the Boston mayor
            like the impotent rage of a man nursing memories of
            personal injuries suffered at the South.

         </p>
         <p>
            If there was panic in the South, there was none in
            the office of the <i>Liberator</i>. Unterrified by the
            commotion which his composing-stick was producing
            near and far, he laughed to scorn the abuse and
            threats of his enemies. When the news of the reward
            of the State of Georgia "for the abduction of his
            person" reached him, he did not quail, great as was
            his peril, but boldly replied:

         </p>
         <p>
            "Of one thing we are sure: all Southern threats
            and rewards will be insufficient to deter us from pursuing
            <a class="newpage" name="P_132" id="P_132" title="P_132"></a>
            the work of emancipation. As citizens of the
            United States we know our rights and dare maintain
            them. We have committed no crime, but are expending
            our health, comfort, and means for the salvation
            of our country, and for the interests and security of
            infatuated slaveholders, as well as for the relief of
            the poor slaves."

         </p>
         <p>
            Archimedes with his lever had moved the world.
            Archimedes "in a small chamber, unfurnitured and
            mean," had set a world of pro-slavery passions and
            prejudices spinning away into space:

         </p>
         <div class="lg">"Such earnest natures are the fiery pith,<br>The compact nucleus, 'round which systems grow;<br>Mass after mass becomes inspired therewith,<br>And whirls impregnate with the central glow."<br><a class="newpage" name="P_133" id="P_133" title="P_133"></a><br></div>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap7"></a>
            CHAPTER VII.

            MASTER STROKES.

         </h2>
         <p>
            "Help came but slowly" to the reformer. With a
            single instrument he had stirred the nation, as no
            other man had done, on the slavery question. He had
            thrown the South into widespread excitement, and
            thawed the apathy of the North into widespread
            attention. He had won an almost instant hearing for
            his cause. But he knew that this was not enough.
            Effective as he had shown the weapon of the press to
            be, it alone was unequal to the conduct of prolonged
            agitation. And prolonged agitation Garrison clearly
            apprehended was to be the price of abolition. Back
            of him and the <i>Liberator</i> he needed an organized
            force, coadjutors like Aaron and Hur to hold up his
            arms during the mighty conflict on which he had now
            entered with the slave interests of the country. Those
            interests were organized, and because they were
            organized they were powerful. The sentiment of
            freedom he determined to organize and to render it
            thereby invincible. To organized wrong he designed
            to oppose organized right, confident that organized
            right would prevail in the end. He had knowledge
            of the utility of temperance societies in advancing
            the cause of sobriety among the people. He had
            learned from Lundy how much he had relied upon
            the union of men as anti-slavery helps. Garrison
            determined to summon to his side the powerful
            <a class="newpage" name="P_134" id="P_134" title="P_134"></a>
            agency of an anti-slavery society devoted to
            immediate and unconditional emancipation. He had
            already made converts; he had already a small following.
            At Julien Hall, on the occasion of his first
            lecture on the subject of slavery, he had secured three
            remarkable men to the movement, viz., Rev. Samuel
            J. May, then a young Unitarian minister, Samuel E.
            Sewall, a young member of the Bar, and A. Bronson
            Alcott, a sage even in his early manhood. They had
            all promised him aid and comfort in the great task
            which he had undertaken. A little later two others,
            quite as remarkable as those first three were drawn
            to the reformer's side, and abetted him in the treason
            to iniquity, which he was prosecuting through the
            columns of the <i>Liberator</i> with unrivaled zeal and
            devotion. These disciples were Ellis Grey Loring
            and David Lee Child. They were a goodly company,
            were these five conspirators, men of intellect and
            conscience, of high family and social connections, of
            brilliant attainments and splendid promises for the
            future. To this number must be added a sixth,
            Oliver Johnson, who was at the time editing <i>The
               Christian Soldier</i>, disciple of Garrison then, and ever
            after his devoted friend. The early promises of this
            noble half dozen friends of the slave were more than
            fulfilled in after years. Often to the dingy room
            "under the eaves" in Merchants' Hall they climbed
            to carry aid and comfort to "one poor, unlearned
            young man," and to sit at his feet in this cradle-room
            of the new movement. It was there in communion
            with the young master that suggestions looking to
            the formation of an anti-slavery society, were doubtless
            first thrown out.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_135" id="P_135" title="P_135"></a></p>
         <div class="lg">"The place was dark, unfurnitured and mean;<br>Yet there the freedom of a race began."<br><br></div>
         <p>
            It was not all clear sailing for the editor of the
            <i>Liberator</i> even with such choice spirits. They did
            not always carry aid and comfort to him, but differences
            of opinions sometimes as well. He did not
            sugar-coat enough the bitter truth which he was telling
            to the nation. Some of them would have preferred
            <i>The Safety Lamp</i> to the
            <i>Liberator</i> as a title less
            likely to offend the prejudices of many good people.
            Some again objected to the pictorial heading of the
            paper as an altogether unwise proceeding, and positively
            mischievous. He had the same experience
            when the formation of an Abolition society was under
            consideration. He was confronted with this benevolent
            aversion to giving offence by calling things by
            their right names. But much as he desired to have
            his friends and followers organized for associated
            action, where a principle was at stake he was with
            them as with slavery itself absolutely inflexible and
            uncompromising. He was for organizing on the
            principle of immediate emancipation. A few deemed
            that ground too radical and revolutionary, and were
            for ranging themselves under the banner of Gradualism,
            thinking to draw to their ranks a class of people,
            who would be repelled by Immediatism. But Garrison
            was unyielding, refused to budge an inch to conciliate
            friend or foe&#8212;not even such stanch supporters
            as were Sewall and Loring, who supplied him again
            and again with money needed to continue the publication
            of the <i>Liberator</i>. No, he was right and they
            were wrong, and they, not he, ought accordingly to
            yield. The contention between the leader and his
            <a class="newpage" name="P_136" id="P_136" title="P_136"></a>
            disciples was not what was expedient, but what was
            right. It was on the part of the leader the assertion
            of a vital principle, and on this ground he was
            pledged against retreat. The mountain could not go
            to Mahomet, therefore Mahomet must needs go to the
            mountain. Garrison could not abandon his position,
            wherefore in due time Loring, Child, and Sewall surrendered
            theirs. Finely has Lowell expressed this
            righteous stubbornness, and steadfastness to principle
            in three stanzas of his poem entitled, "The Day of
            Small Things," and which have such an obvious lesson
            for our own times that I shall venture to quote
            them in this place:

         </p>
         <div class="poem">
            <h3><a name="SmallThings"></a></h3>
            <div class="lg">"Who is it will not dare himself to trust?<br>Who is it hath not strength to stand alone?<br>Who is it thwarts and bilks the inward MUST?<br>He and his works, like sand from earth are blown.<br><br></div>
            <div class="lg">"Men of a thousand shifts and wiles look here!<br>See one straightforward conscience put in pawn<br>To win a world! See the obedient sphere<br>By bravery's simple gravitation drawn!<br><br></div>
            <div class="lg">"Shall we not heed the lesson taught of old,<br>And by the Present's lips repeated still,<br>In our own single manhood to be bold,<br>Fortressed in conscience and impregnable will?"<br><br></div>
         </div>
         <p>
            The history of the making of this first society is an
            interesting story. There were four meetings in all
            before it was found possible to complete the work of
            its organization. These meetings extended over a
            space of nearly three months, so obstinate were a
            minority against committing the proposed society
            to the principle of immediate emancipation. The
            <a class="newpage" name="P_137" id="P_137" title="P_137"></a>
            very name which was to be given to the association
            provoked debate and disagreement. Some were for
            christening it "Philo-African," while Garrison would
            no such milk-and-water title, but one which expressed
            distinctly and graphically the real character of the organization,
            viz., "New England Anti-Slavery Society."
            He would sail under no false or neutral colors, but
            beneath the red flag of open and determined hostility
            to slavery. It should be a sign which no one
            could possibly mistake. The first meeting was held
            at the office of Samuel E. Sewall, November 13, 1831.
            At the third meeting, convened New Year's evening
            of 1832, which was the first anniversary of the publication
            of the <i>Liberator</i>, the work of organization was
            finished, with a single important exception, viz., the
            adoption of the preamble to the constitution. The
            character of the preamble would fix the character of
            the society. Therefore that which was properly first
            was made to come last. The fourth meeting took
            place on the night of January 6th in the African Baptist
            Church on what was then Belknap but now known
            as Joy street. The young leader and fourteen of his
            followers met that evening in the school-room for
            colored children, situated under the auditorium of
            the church. They could hardly have fallen upon a
            more obscure or despised place for the consummation
            of their enterprise in the city of Boston than was
            this selfsame negro church and school-room. The
            weather added an ever memorable night to the opprobrium
            of the spot. A fierce northeaster accompanied
            with "snow, rain, and hail in equal proportions" was
            roaring and careering through the city's streets. To
            an eye-witness, Oliver Johnson, "it almost seemed
            <a class="newpage" name="P_138" id="P_138" title="P_138"></a>
            as if Nature was frowning upon the new effort to
            abolish slavery; but," he added, "the spirits of the
            little company rose superior to all external circumstances."

         </p>
         <p>
            If there was strife of the elements without, neither
            was there sweet accord within among brethren.
            "The spirits of the little company" may have risen
            superior to the weather, but they did not rise superior
            to the preamble, with the principle of immediatism
            incorporated in it. Eleven stood by the leader and
            made it the chief of the corner of the new society,
            while three, Messrs. Loring, Sewall, and Child, refused
            to sign the Constitution and parted sorrowfully
            from the small band of the New England Anti-Slavery
            Society. But the separation was only temporary, for
            each returned to the side of the reformer, and proved
            his loyalty and valor in the trying years which followed.

         </p>
         <p>
            The preamble which was the bone of so much contention
            declared that: "We, the undersigned, hold
            that every person, of full age and sane mind, has a
            right to immediate freedom from personal bondage
            of whatsoever kind, unless imposed by the sentence
            of the law for the commission of some crime. We
            hold that man cannot, consistently with reason,
            religion, and the eternal and immutable principles
            of justice, be the property of man. We hold that
            whoever retains his fellow-man in bondage is guilty
            of a grievous wrong. We hold that a mere difference
            of complexion is no reason why any man should be
            deprived of any of his natural rights, or subjected to
            any political disability. While we advance these
            opinions as the principles on which we intend to act,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_139" id="P_139" title="P_139"></a>
            we declare that we will not operate on the existing
            relations of society by other than peaceful and lawful
            means, and that we will give no countenance to
            violence or insurrection."

         </p>
         <p>
            Twelve, the apostolic number, affixed to the preamble
            and constitution their names, and thus formed
            the first Garrisonian Society for the abolition of slavery
            in the United States. The names of these apostolic
            men it is well to keep in mind. They are William
            Lloyd Garrison, Oliver Johnson, Robert B. Hall,
            Arnold Buffum, William J. Snelling, John E. Fuller,
            Moses Thatcher, Joshua Coffin, Stillman B. Newcomb,
            Benjamin C. Bacon, Isaac Knapp, and Henry
            K. Stockton. The band of reformers, their work
            done, had risen to pass out of the low, rude room into
            the dark night. The storm was still raging. They
            themselves had perchance been sobered by the experiences
            of the evening. They had gone in fifteen,
            they were returning twelve. And, after all, what had
            they accomplished? What could they a mere handful
            do to abolish slavery entrenched as it was in Church
            and State? It is possible that some such dim discouragement,
            some such vague misgiving of the
            futility of the evening's labor, was in the hearts of
            those wearied men, and that their leader divined as
            much, for the spirit of prophecy fell upon Garrison
            just as they "were stepping out into the storm and
            darkness." "We have met to-night," he said, "in
            this obscure school-house; our numbers are few and
            our influence limited; but, mark my prediction, Faneuil
            Hall shall erelong echo with the principles we
            have set forth. We shall shake the nation by their
            mighty power." Then the little band dispersed "into
            <a class="newpage" name="P_140" id="P_140" title="P_140"></a>
            the storm and darkness," carrying with them these
            words charged with hope and courage.

         </p>
         <p>
            The fruitful seed of organized agitation Garrison
            had securely planted in soil fertile and ready for its
            reception. Its growth constitutes one of the marvels
            of reforms. Within a few brief years it multiplied
            into hundreds and thousands of societies throughout
            the free States. But its beginnings were small and
            humble enough. "The objects of the society" were
            according to the second article of the constitution,
            "to endeavor by all means sanctioned by law, humanity,
            and religion, to effect the abolition of slavery in
            the United States, to improve the character and condition
            of the free people of color, to inform and correct
            public opinion in relation to their situation and
            rights, and to obtain for them equal civil and political
            rights and privileges with the whites." The
            means which were immediately adopted by the society
            for the accomplishment of these objects were mainly
            three, than which none others could have been
            more effective. These were petitioning Congress on
            the subject of slavery. The publication and circulation
            of anti-slavery addresses and tracts, and the employment
            of anti-slavery agents, "in obtaining or
            communicating intelligence, in the publication and
            distribution of tracts, books, or papers, or in the execution
            of any measure which may be adopted to promote
            the objects of the society." Such was the simple
            but unequaled machinery which the New England
            Anti-Slavery Society relied upon for success in the
            war, which it had declared against American slavery.
            The executive power of the body, and the operation
            of its machinery were lodged in a board of managers
            <a class="newpage" name="P_141" id="P_141" title="P_141"></a>
            of which Garrison's was the leading, originating
            mind. The society started out bravely in the use of
            its means by memorializing Congress for the abolition
            of slavery, "in the District of Columbia and in
            the Territories of the United States under their jurisdiction,"
            and by preparing and distributing an address
            in maintenance of the doctrine of immediate emancipation.
            The board of managers set the machinery in
            motion as far and as fast as the extremely limited
            pecuniary ability of the society would permit. The
            membership was not from the rich classes. It was
            Oliver Johnson who wittily remarked that not
            more than one or two of the original twelve,
            "could have put a hundred dollars into the treasury
            without bankrupting themselves." The remark was
            true, and was quite as applicable to any dozen of the
            new-comers as to the original twelve. The society
            was never deficient in zeal, but it was certainly sadly
            wanting in money. And money was even to such
            men and to such a movement an important factor in
            revolutionizing public opinion.

         </p>
         <p>
            The <i>Liberator</i> was made the official organ of the
            society, and in this way was added to its other weapons
            that of the press. This was a capital arrangement,
            for by it both the paper and the society were
            placed under the direction of the same masterly
            guidance. There was still one arrow left in the moral
            quiver of the organization to reach the conscience of
            the people, and that was the appointment of an agent
            to spread the doctrines of the new propaganda of
            freedom. In August the board of managers, metaphorically
            speaking, shot this arrow by making Garrison
            the agent of the society to lecture on the subject
            <a class="newpage" name="P_142" id="P_142" title="P_142"></a>
            of slavery "for a period not exceeding three
            months." This was the first drop from a cloud then
            no bigger than a hand, but which was to grow and
            spread until, covering the North, was, at the end of
            a few short years, to flood the land with anti-slavery
            agents and lecturers.

         </p>
         <p>
            Our anti-slavery agent visited portions of Massachusetts,
            Maine, and Rhode Island, preaching the Abolition
            gospel in divers places, and to many people&#8212;notably
            at such centers of population as Worcester,
            Providence, Bangor, and Portland, making at the
            latter city a signal conversion to his cause in the person
            of General Samuel Fessenden, distinguished then
            as a lawyer, and later as the father of William Pitt
            Fessenden. The anti-slavery schoolmaster was
            abroad, and was beginning to turn New England and
            the North into one resounding schoolhouse, where he
            sat behind the desk and the nation occupied the
            forms.

         </p>
         <p>
            So effective was the agitation prosecuted by the
            society during the first year of its existence that it
            was no empty declaration or boast of the
            <i>Abolitionist</i>,
            the new monthly periodical of the society, that
            "probably, through its instrumentality, more public
            addresses on the subject of slavery, and appeals in
            behalf of the contemned free people of color, have
            been made in New England, during the past year
            (1832) than were elicited for forty years prior to its
            organization."

         </p>
         <p>
            The introduction of the principle of association
            into the slavery agitation, and the conversion of it
            into an organized movement was an achievement of
            the first importance. To Garrison, more than to any
            <a class="newpage" name="P_143" id="P_143" title="P_143"></a>
            man, or to all others put together, belongs the
            authorship of this immense initiative. He it was,
            who, having "announced the principle, arranged the
            method" of the Abolition movement. The marshaling
            of the anti-slavery sentiment of New England
            under a common standard, in a common cause, was
            a master stroke of moral generalship. This master
            stroke the leader followed up promptly with a second
            stroke not less masterly. That second stroke was his
            "Thoughts on African Colonization," published in
            the summer succeeding the formation of the New
            England Anti-Slavery Society.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison's championship of the cause of the slave
            had started with strong faith in the efficacy and disinterestedness
            of the colonization scheme as an instrument
            of emancipation. It commanded, therefore, his
            early support. In his Park Street Church address he
            evinced himself in earnest sympathy with the friends
            of colonization. But after his arrival in Baltimore a
            change began to exhibit itself in this regard. He
            began to qualify his confidence in its utility; began
            to discern in it influences calculated to retard general
            emancipation. As these doubts and misgivings arose
            within him he expressed them frankly in the
            <i>Genius</i>.
            Lundy had been suspicious of the pro-slavery purposes
            or interests of the enterprise for many years.
            He could not reconcile himself to the significant or,
            at least, singular fact of so many slaveholders being
            in the membership and the offices of the association.
            Then, in addition to this lack of confidence on the
            part of Lundy in the scheme, Garrison became acquainted,
            for the first time, with the objects of the
            society's philanthropy&#8212;the class of free people of
            <a class="newpage" name="P_144" id="P_144" title="P_144"></a>
            color. He found that these people were not at all
            well affected to the society; that they had no appreciation
            of its benevolent intentions in respect to themselves.
            He found, on the contrary, that they were
            positively embittered toward it and toward its designs
            for their removal from the country as toward their
            worst enemy. This circumstance was undoubtedly
            a poser to their young friend. How could he reconcile
            this deep-seated and widespread disbelief in the
            purity of the motives of the Colonization Society,
            with the simple integrity and humanity of the enterprise
            itself? Later, his acquaintance with such representatives
            of the free people of color in Philadelphia
            as James Forten and his son-in-law, Robert Purvis,
            served but to confirm those first impressions which
            he received in Baltimore from the Watkinses and
            the Greeners. It was the same experience in New
            York and New Haven, in Boston and Providence.
            He learned that from the very beginning, in the year
            1817, that the free people of color in Richmond and
            Philadelphia had, by an instinctive knowledge of
            threatened wrong and danger, met and resolved
            against the society and its sinister designs upon
            themselves. These people did not wish to leave the
            country; they did not wish to be sent to Liberia; but
            the society, bent on doing them good against their
            will, did want them to leave the country, did want
            to send them to Liberia.

         </p>
         <p>
            And why did the society desire to remove the free
            people of color out of the country? Was it from motives
            of real philanthropy? The colored people were
            the first to detect its spurious humanity, the first to see
            through the artful disguises employed to impose upon
            <a class="newpage" name="P_145" id="P_145" title="P_145"></a>
            the conscience of the republic. Their removal, they
            intuitively divined, was proposed not to do their race
            a benefit, but rather to do a service to the owners of
            slaves. These objects of the society's pseudo-philanthropy
            had the sagacity to perceive that, practically,
            their expatriation tended to strengthen the
            chains of their brethren then in slavery; for if the
            South could get rid of its free colored population, its
            slave property would thereby acquire additional
            security, and, of consequence, increased market value.
            Like cause, like effect. If the operation of the colonization
            scheme was decidedly in the interest of the
            masters, it was the part of wisdom to conclude as the
            free colored people did actually conclude that the
            underlying motive, the hidden purpose of the society
            was also in the interest of the masters.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison did not reach his conclusions as to the
            pro-slavery character and tendency of the society
            abruptly. The scales fell away gradually from his
            eyes. He was not completely undeceived until he
            had examined the reports of the society and found
            in them the most redundant evidence of its insincerity
            and guilt. It was out of its own mouth that he
            condemned it. When he saw the society in its true
            character, he saw what he must do. It was a wolf in
            sheep's skin running at large among the good shepherd's
            flock, and inflicting infinite hurt upon his poor
            sheep. He no longer wondered at the horror which
            the colonization scheme inspired among the free
            people of color. They were right. The society was
            their dangerous and determined enemy; it was the
            bulwark of the slave-holding classes. With the
            instinct of a great purpose he resolved to carry this
            <a class="newpage" name="P_146" id="P_146" title="P_146"></a>
            powerful bulwark of slavery by assault. To the
            attack he returned week after week in the
            <i>Liberator</i>,
            during a year and a half. Then he hurled himself
            upon it with all his guns, facts, arguments, denunciations,
            blowing away and burning up every shred of
            false covering from the doctrines, principles, and
            purposes of the society, revealing it to mankind in
            its base and monstrous character.

         </p>
         <p>
            The society's one motive "to get rid of the free
            people of color," was outrageous enough, but this
            was not its only sin. There was another phase to the
            mischief it was working, which lifted it to the rank of
            a great sinner. It was not only harmful in its principles
            and purposes. "It imperatively and effectually
            seals up the lips," so Garrison accused it, "of a vast
            number of influential and pious men, who, for fear of
            giving offence to those slaveholders with whom they
            associate, and thereby leading to a dissolution of the
            compact, dare not expose the flagrant enormities of
            the system of slavery, nor denounce the crime of holding
            human beings in bondage. They dare not lead
            to the onset against the forces of tyranny; and if
            they shrink from the conflict, how shall the victory
            be won? I do not mean to aver that in their sermons,
            or addresses, or private conversations, they
            never allude to the subject of slavery; for they do so
            frequently, or at least every Fourth of July. But my
            complaint is that they content themselves with representing
            slavery as an evil&#8212;a misfortune&#8212;a calamity
            which has been entailed upon us by former
            generations,&#8212;<em>and
               not as an individual</em> CRIME, embracing in its
            folds, robbery, cruelty, oppression, and piracy. <em>They
               do not identify the criminal</em>; they make no direct,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_147" id="P_147" title="P_147"></a>
            pungent, earnest appeal to the consciences of men-stealers."
            This was a damning bill, but it was true
            in every particular; and the evidence which Garrison
            adduced to establish his charges was overwhelming
            and irrefragable.

         </p>
         <p>
            Nearly fifty years afterward, Elizur Wright
            described the baleful influence of the society upon
            the humanity and philanthropy of the nation. "The
            humanity and philanthropy," he said, "which could
            not otherwise be disposed of, was ingeniously seduced
            into an African Colonization Society, whereby all
            slaves who had grown seditious and troublesome to
            their masters could be transplanted on the pestiferous
            African coast. That this wretched and seemingly
            transparent humbug could have deluded anybody,
            must now seem past belief; but I must with shame
            confess the fact that I for one was deluded by it. And
            that fact would put me in doubt of my own sanity at
            the time if I did not know that high statesmen, presidents
            of colleges, able editors, and that most
            undoubted of firm philanthropists, Gerritt Smith,
            shared the same delusion. Bible and missionary societies
            fellowshipped that mean and scurvy device of
            the kidnapper, in their holy work. It was spoken of
            as the most glorious of Christian enterprises, had a
            monthly magazine devoted to itself, and taxed about
            every pulpit in the land for an annual sermon in its
            favor."

         </p>
         <p>
            Such was the Colonization Society, and its
            entrenched strength in the piety and philanthropy of
            the country at the moment when Garrison published
            his "Thoughts." It did not seem possible that a single
            arm however powerful, was able to start its roots;
            <a class="newpage" name="P_148" id="P_148" title="P_148"></a>
            but, directly upon the launching of this bolt, the
            roots of the Bohun Upas, as Garrison graphically
            designated the society, were seen to have started, and
            the enterprise appeared blasted as by fire. The
            deluded intellect and conscience of the free States
            saw in the fierce light, which the pamphlet of the
            reformer threw upon the colonization scheme how
            shamefully imposed upon they had been. They had
            believed the society "the most glorious of Christian
            enterprises," and, lo! it stood revealed to them a
            "scurvy device of the kidnapper." The effect was
            extraordinary. The book was seized and its contents
            devoured by some of the finest minds of the
            North. Here is an example of the interest which it
            excited and the converts which it made: "Last Monday
            evening was our Law Club meeting, and I had
            the great satisfaction of hearing Judge Mellen, our
            Chief-Justice, say he had read your 'Thoughts,' was a
            thorough convert to your views, and was ready to do
            all in his power to promote them. Mr. Longfellow
            [father of Henry W. Longfellow] was present also,
            and with equal warmth and clearness expressed himself
            also in favor of your views. This is getting the
            two first men in the State for talents and influence in
            benevolent effort. I have no doubt they will head
            the list of those who will subscribe to form here an
            anti-slavery society. Mr. Greenleaf [Simon] also,
            will cordially come in, and I need not say he is one of
            the first [men] in the State, for his character is known."
            This quotation is made from a letter of General Samuel
            Fessenden, of Portland, Me., to Mr. Garrison,
            dated December 14, 1832. Among the remarkable
            minds which the "Thoughts" disillusioned in respect
            <a class="newpage" name="P_149" id="P_149" title="P_149"></a>
            of the character and tendency of the Colonization
            Society were Theodore D. Weld, Elizur Wright, and
            Beriah Green, N.P. Rogers, William Goodell, Joshua
            Leavitt, Amos A. Phelps, Lewis Tappan, and James
            Miller McKim.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison's assertion that "the overthrow of the
            Colonization Society was the overthrow of slavery
            itself," was, from the standpoint of a student of history,
            an exaggerated one. We know now that the
            claim was not founded on fact, that while they did
            stand together they did not fall together. But the
            position was, nevertheless, the strongest possible one
            for the anti-slavery movement to occupy at the time.
            In the disposition of the pro-slavery forces on the
            field of the opening conflict in 1832, the colonization
            scheme commanded the important approaches to the
            citadel of the peculiar institution. It cut off the
            passes to public opinion, and to the religious and
            benevolent influences of the land. To reach these it
            was necessary in the first place to dislodge the society
            from its coign of vantage, its strategical point in
            the agitation. And this is precisely what "The
            Thoughts on African Colonization" did. It dislodged
            the society from its powerful place in the moral sentiment
            of the North. The capture of this position
            was like the capture of a drawbridge, and the precipitation
            of the assaulting column directly upon
            the walls of a besieged castle. Within the pamphlet
            was contained the whole tremendous enginery of
            demolition. The anti-slavery agent and lecturer
            thenceforth set it up wherever he spoke.

         </p>
         <p>
            To him it was not only the catapult; it furnished
            the missile-like facts and arguments for
            <a class="newpage" name="P_150" id="P_150" title="P_150"></a>
            breaching the walls of this pro-slavery stronghold as
            well.

         </p>
         <p>
            The effect of the publication of "The Thoughts"
            in this country was extraordinary, but the result of
            their circulation in England was hardly less so. It
            produced there as here a revolution in public sentiment
            upon the subject. The philanthropy and piety
            of Great Britain had generally prior to the unmasking
            of the society, looked upon it as an instrument of
            Emancipation, and had accordingly given it their
            powerful countenance, and not a little material support.
            But from the moment that the pamphlet
            reached England a decided change in this regard
            became manifest. The society made fruitless attempts
            to break the force of the blow dealt it by Garrison in
            the United States. But wherever its emissaries
            traveled "The Thoughts" confronted and confounded
            them. So that Mr. Garrison was warranted in saying
            that "all that sophistry or misrepresentation could
            effect to overthrow its integrity has been attempted
            in vain. The work, as a whole, stands irrefutable."
            The attempts made to maintain its hold upon the
            British public were characterized by duplicity and
            misrepresentation beyond anything practiced in
            America. The work of deceiving the philanthropy
            of Great Britain was conducted by the emissary of
            the society, Elliott Cresson, a man perfectly fitted to
            perform his part with remarkable thoroughness and
            industry. Three thousand miles away from America,
            and practically secure from contradiction, he went
            about making outrageous statements as to the anti-slavery
            character and purpose of the colonization
            enterprise. As there was no one in England sufficiently
            <a class="newpage" name="P_151" id="P_151" title="P_151"></a>
            acquainted with the operations and designs
            of the society, he was enabled to falsify facts, to conceal
            the real principles of the scheme with astonishing
            audacity and activity. He approached Wilberforce,
            and duped Clarkson into a belief in the anti-slavery
            aim of the society.

         </p>
         <p>
            Unmasked in America, the time had come when the
            interests of the Abolition movement on this side of
            the Atlantic required that it should be stripped of its
            disguises on the other side also. No better instrument
            could be selected for this purpose than the man
            who had torn the mask from its features in the United
            States. And so in March, 1833, the Board of Managers
            of the New England Anti-Slavery Society notified
            the public of the appointment of "William Lloyd
            Garrison as their agent, and that he would proceed to
            England as soon as the necessary arrangements can
            be made, for the purpose of procuring funds to aid
            in the establishment of the proposed <b>MANUAL
               LABOR SCHOOL FOR COLORED YOUTH</b>, and
            of disseminating in that country the truth in relation
            to American slavery, and to its ally, the American
            Colonization Society." The managers offered in
            justification of their step the fact that "Elliott Cresson
            is now in England as an agent for the Colonization
            Society, and that he has procured funds to a
            considerable amount by representing that the object
            of the society is 'to assist in the emancipation of all
            the slaves now in the United States.' It is important
            that the philanthropists of that country should be
            undeceived, and that the real principles and designs
            of the Colonization Society should be there made
            known."

         </p>
         <p><a class="newpage" name="P_152" id="P_152" title="P_152"></a>
            In pursuance of this mission Garrison sailed from
            New York, May 2, 1833. Twenty days later he landed
            in Liverpool. His arrival was opportune, for all
            England was watching the closing scene in the drama
            of West India Emancipation. He was an eye-witness
            of the crowning triumph of the English Abolitionists,
            viz., the breaking by Act of Parliament of the fetters
            of eight hundred thousand slaves. He was in time to
            greet his great spiritual kinsman, William Wilberforce,
            and to undeceive him in respect of the Colonization
            Society, before death claimed his body, and to follow
            him to his last resting-place by the side of Pitt
            and Fox, in Westminster Abbey.

         </p>
         <p>
            A highly interesting incident of this visit is best
            told in Mr. Garrison's own words. He said:

         </p>
         <p>
            "On arriving in London I received a polite invitation
            by letter from Mr. Buxton to take breakfast with
            him. Presenting myself at the appointed time, when
            my name was announced, instead of coming forward
            promptly to take me by the hand, he scrutinized me
            from head to foot, and then inquired, 'Have I the
            pleasure of addressing Mr. Garrison, of Boston, in
            the United States?' 'Yes, sir,' I replied, 'I am he;
            and I am here in accordance with your invitation.'
            Lifting up his hands he exclaimed, 'Why, my dear
            sir, I thought you were a black man! And I have
            consequently invited this company of ladies and
            gentlemen to be present to welcome Mr. Garrison,
            the black advocate of emancipation, from the United
            States of America.' I have often said that that is the
            only compliment I have ever had paid to me that I care
            to remember or to tell of! For Mr. Buxton had
            somehow or other supposed that no white American
            <a class="newpage" name="P_153" id="P_153" title="P_153"></a>
            could plead for those in bondage as I had done, and
            therefore I must be black!"

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison promptly threw down his challenge to
            Elliott Cresson, offering to prove him an impostor
            and the Colonization Society "corrupt in its principles,
            proscriptive in its measures, and the worst
            enemy of the free colored and slave population of
            the United States." From the first it was apparent
            that Cresson did not mean to encounter the author
            of the "Thoughts" in public debate. Even a mouse
            when cornered will show fight, but there was no
            manly fight in Cresson. Garrison sent him a letter
            containing seven grave charges against his society,
            and dared him to a refutation of them in a joint discussion.
            This challenge was presented four times
            before the agent of colonization could be persuaded
            to accept it. Garrison was bent on a joint public
            discussion between himself and Mr. Cresson. But
            Mr. Cresson was bent on avoiding his opponent. He
            skulked under one pretext or another from vindicating
            the colonization scheme from the seven-headed
            indictment preferred against it by the agent of the
            New England Anti-Slavery Society. As Cresson
            could not be driven into a joint discussion with him
            there was nothing left to Garrison but to go on without
            him. His arraignment and exposure of the
            society in public and private was thorough and overwhelming.
            He was indefatigable in the prosecution
            of this part of his mission. And his labor was not in
            vain. For in less than three months after his reaching
            England he had rendered the Colonization
            Society as odious there as his "Thoughts" had made
            it in America. The great body of the anti-slavery
            <a class="newpage" name="P_154" id="P_154" title="P_154"></a>
            sentiment in Great Britain promptly condemned the
            spirit and object of the American Colonization Society.
            Such leaders as Buxton and Cropper "termed
            its objects <em>diabolical</em>;" while Zachary Macaulay,
            father of the historian, did not doubt that "the
            unchristian prejudice of color (which alone has
            given birth to the Colonization Society, though
            varnished over with other more plausible pretences,
            and veiled under a profession of a Christian
            regard for the temporal and spiritual interests of the
            negro which is belied by the whole course of its
            reasonings and the spirit of its measures) is so
            detestable in itself that I think it ought not to be
            tolerated, but, on the contrary, ought to be denounced
            and opposed by all humane, and especially by all
            pious persons in this country."

         </p>
         <p>
            The protest against the Colonization Society
            "signed by Wilberforce and eleven of the most distinguished
            Abolitionists in Great Britain," including
            Buxton, Macaulay, Cropper, and Daniel O'Connell,
            showed how thoroughly Garrison had accomplished
            his mission. The protest declares, thanks to the
            teachings of the agent of the New England Anti-Slavery
            Society, that the colonization scheme "takes
            its roots from a cruel prejudice and alienation in the
            whites of America against the colored people, slave
            or free. This being its source the effects are what
            might be expected; that it fosters and increases the
            spirit of caste, already so unhappily predominant;
            that it widens the breach between the two races&#8212;exposes
            the colored people to great practical persecution,
            in order to <em>force</em> them to emigrate; and, finally,
            is calculated to swallow up and divert that feeling
            <a class="newpage" name="P_155" id="P_155" title="P_155"></a>
            which America, as a Christian and free country, cannot
            but entertain, that slavery is alike incompatible
            with the law of God and with the well-being of man,
            whether the enslaver or the enslaved." The solemn
            conclusion of the illustrious signers of this mighty
            protest was that: "That society is, in our estimation,
            not deserving of the countenance of the British
            public." This powerful instrument fell, as Garrison
            wrote at the time, "like a thunderbolt upon the
            society." The damage inflicted upon it was immense,
            irreparable. The name of Thomas Clarkson was
            conspicuous by its absence from the protest. He
            could not be induced to take positive ground against
            the society. Garrison had visited him for this purpose.
            But the venerable philanthropist, who was
            then blind, had taken position on <i>neutral ground</i>,
            and could not, after an interview of four hours, be
            induced to abandon it. But, fortunately, potent as
            the name of Clarkson would have been in opposition
            to the society, it was not indispensable to its overthrow
            in Great Britain. Garrison had won to his
            side "all the staunch anti-slavery spirits," while
            Cresson was able to retain only "a few titled, wealthy,
            high-pretending individuals."

         </p>
         <p>
            The success of the mission was signal, its service to
            the movement against slavery in America manifold.
            Garrison writing from London to the board of
            managers, summarized the results produced by it as
            follows: "1st, awakening a general interest among
            the friends of emancipation in this country, and
            securing their efficient co&ouml;peration with us in the abolition
            of slavery in the United States; 2d, dispelling
            the mists with which the agent of the American
            <a class="newpage" name="P_156" id="P_156" title="P_156"></a>
            Colonization Society has blinded the eyes of benevolent
            men in relation to the design and tendency of
            the society; 3d, enlisting able and eloquent advocates
            to plead our cause; 4th, inducing editors of
            periodicals and able writers to give us the weight of
            their influence; 5th, exciting a spirit of emulation
            in the redemption of our slave population among the
            numerous female anti-slavery societies; 6th, procuring
            a large collection of anti-slavery documents,
            tracts, pamphlets, and volumes, which will furnish
            us with an inexhaustible supply of ammunition."
            These were indeed some of the grand results of
            laborious weeks. His mission was ended. He was
            profoundly grateful to the good God for its success.
            The great movement which he had started against
            oppression in his own country was awaiting his
            aggressive leadership. He did not tarry abroad,
            therefore, but set sail from London August 18, 1833,
            for New York, where he landed six weeks later.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_157" id="P_157" title="P_157"></a></p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap8"></a>
            CHAPTER VIII
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            COLORPHOBIA

         </h2>
         <p>
            Garrison's Abolitionism was of the most radical
            character. It went the whole length of the humanity
            of the colored race, and all that that implied. They
            were, the meanest members, whether bond or free,
            his brothers and his sisters. From the first he regarded
            them as bone of his bone and blood of his
            blood, as children with him of a common father.
            Poor and enslaved and despised to be sure, wronged
            by all men, and contemned by all men, but for that
            very reason they were deserving of his most devoted
            love and labor. He never looked down upon them
            as wanting in any essential respect the manhood
            which was his. They were men and as such
            entitled to immediate emancipation. They were
            besides entitled to equality of civil and political
            rights in the republic, entitled to equality and fraternity
            in the church, equality and fraternity at the
            North, equality and fraternity always and everywhere.
            This is what he preached, this is what he practiced.
            In not a single particular was he ever found separating
            himself from his brother in black, saying to
            him "thus far but no farther." He never drew the
            line in public or private between him and the people
            whose cause was his cause&#8212;not even socially. He
            went into their homes and was in all things one with
            <a class="newpage" name="P_158" id="P_158" title="P_158"></a>
            them. He forgot that he was white, forgot that they
            were black, forgot the pride of race, forgot the stigma
            of race too in the tie of human kinship which bound
            him to them. If he had what they did not possess,
            the rights of a man, the civil and political position of
            a man in the State, the equality of a brother in the
            church, it could not make him feel better than they,
            it filled him instead with a righteous sense of wrong,
            a passionate sympathy, a supreme desire and determination
            to make his own rights the measure of
            theirs.

         </p>
         <p>
            "I lose sight of your present situation," he said
            in his address before Free People of Color, "and
            look at it only in futurity. I imagine myself surrounded
            by educated men of color, the Websters, and
            Clays, and Hamiltons, and Dwights, and Edwardses
            of the day. I listen to their voice as judges and
            representatives, and rulers of the people&#8212;the whole
            people." This glowing vision was not the handiwork
            of a rhetorician writing with an eye to its effect upon
            his hearers. The ardent hope of the reformer was
            rather the father of the golden dream.

         </p>
         <p>
            This practical recognition of the negro as a man
            and a brother was the exact opposite of the treatment
            which was his terrible lot in the country. Never in
            all history was there a race more shamefully oppressed
            by a dominant race than were the blacks by
            the whites of America. Held as slaves in the South,
            they were stamped as social outcasts at the North.
            There was no one, however mean or vicious, who if
            he possessed a white skin, was not treated more
            humanely than were they. In the most enlightened
            of the free States they were discriminated against by
            <a class="newpage" name="P_159" id="P_159" title="P_159"></a>
            public laws and proscribed by public opinion. They
            were in a word pariahs of the republic. They were
            shut out from all the common rights, and privileges
            and opportunities enjoyed by the lowest of the
            favored race. They were denied equality in the public
            school. The principle of popular education had
            no application to a class which was not of the people,
            a class which the common sentiment of a Christian
            nation had placed at the zero point of political values,
            and meant to keep forever at that point. Entrance
            to the trades were barred to the blacks. What did
            they want with such things where there was no white
            trash so forgetful of his superiority as to consent to
            work by their side. Nowhere were they allowed the
            same traveling accommodations as white men, and they
            were everywhere excluded from public inns. Neither
            wealth nor refinement was able to procure them
            admission into other than "Jim Crow cars." If
            heart-sick at the outrages by every one heaped upon
            them they turned for consolation to the house of
            God, even there the spirit of proscription and caste
            prejudice met them, and pointed to the "negro pew"
            where they sat corraled from the congregation as if
            they had no equal share in the salvation which the
            pulpit preached. Everywhere the white man had
            the right of way, even on the highway to heaven!
            And in no place was the negro made to feel the prejudice
            against his color more gallingly than in
            churches arrogating the name of Christian. He had
            no rights on earth, he had none in trying to get into the
            bosom of the founder of Christianity, which the white
            sinners or saints were bound to respect. Even the
            liberty-loving Quakers of Philadelphia were not
            <a class="newpage" name="P_160" id="P_160" title="P_160"></a>
            above the use of the "negro seat" in their meetings.
            Somehow they discerned that there was a great gulf
            separating in this life at least the white from the
            black believer. That God had made of one blood all
            nations of men, St. Paul had taught, but the American
            church had with one accord in practice drawn
            the line at the poor despised colored man. He was
            excluded from ecclesiastical equality, for he was
            different from other men for whom Christ died. The
            Bible declared that man was made but a little lower
            than the angels; the American people in their State
            and Church supplemented this sentiment by acts
            which plainly said that the negro was made but a
            little above the brute creation.

         </p>
         <p>
            Here are instances of the length to which the
            prejudice against color carried the churches in those
            early years of the anti-slavery movement:

         </p>
         <p>
            In 1830, a colored man, through a business transaction
            with a lessee of one of the pews in Park Street
            Church, came into possession of it. Thinking to
            make the best use of his opportunity to obtain religious
            instruction for himself and family from this
            fountain of orthodoxy, the black pew-holder betook
            him, one Sunday, to "Brimstone Corner." But he
            was never permitted to repeat the visit. "Brimstone
            Corner" could not stand him another Lord's day,
            and thereupon promptly expelled him and his family
            out of its midst. The good deacons displayed their
            capacity for shielding their flock from consorting
            with "niggers," by availing themselves of a technicality
            to relet the pew to a member who was not
            cursed with a dark skin. On another Lord's day, in
            another stronghold of Boston Christianity, Oliver
            <a class="newpage" name="P_161" id="P_161" title="P_161"></a>
            Johnson ran the battery of "indignant frowns of a
            large number of the congregation" for daring to take
            a fellow-Christian with a skin not colored like his
            own into his pew, to listen to Dr. Beecher. The
            good people of the old Baptist meeting-house, at
            Hartford, Conn., had evidently no intention of disturbing
            the heavenly calm of their religious devotions
            by so much as a thought of believers with black
            faces; for by boarding up the "negro pews" in front
            and leaving only peep-holes for their occupants, they
            secured themselves from a sight of the obnoxious
            creatures, while Jehovah, who is no respecter of persons,
            was in His holy place. Incredible as it may
            seem, a church in the town of Stoughton, Mass.,
            to rid itself of even a semblance of Christian fellowship
            and equality with a colored member, did actually
            cut the floor from under the colored member's
            pew!

         </p>
         <p>
            These cruel and anti-Christian distinctions in the
            churches affected Garrison in the most painful manner.
            He says:

         </p>
         <p>
            "I never can look up to these wretched retreats
            for my colored brethren without feeling my soul
            overwhelmed with emotions of shame, indignation,
            and sorrow."

         </p>
         <p>
            He had such an intimate acquaintance with members
            of this despised caste in Boston and Philadelphia,
            and other cities, and appreciated so deeply their
            intrinsic worth and excellence, as men and brethren,
            that he felt their insults and injuries as if they were
            done to himself. He knew that beneath many a
            dark skin he had found real ladies and gentlemen,
            and he knew how sharper than a serpent's tooth to
            <a class="newpage" name="P_162" id="P_162" title="P_162"></a>
            them was the American prejudice against their color.
            In 1832, just after a visit to Philadelphia, where he
            was the guest of Robert Purvis, and had seen much
            of the Fortens, he wrote a friend:

         </p>
         <p>
            "I wish you had been with me in Philadelphia to
            see what I saw, to hear what I heard, and to experience
            what I felt in associating with many colored
            families. There are colored men and women, young
            men and young ladies, in that city, who have few
            superiors in refinement, in moral worth, and in all
            that makes the human character worthy of admiration
            and praise."

         </p>
         <p>
            Strange to say, notwithstanding all their merits
            and advancement, the free people of color received
            nothing but disparagement and contempt from eminent
            divines like Dr. Leonard W. Bacon and the emissaries
            of the Colonization Society. They were "the
            most abandoned wretches on the face of the earth";
            they were "all that is vile, loathsome, and dangerous";
            they were "more degraded and miserable than
            the slaves," and <i>ad infinitum</i> through the whole
            gamut of falsehood and traduction. It was human for the
            American people to hate a class whom they had so
            deeply wronged, and altogether human for them to
            justify their atrocious treatment by blackening before
            the world the reputation of the said class. That this
            was actually done is the best of all proofs of the
            moral depravity of the nation which slavery had
            wrought.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison's vindication of the free people of color
            in Exeter Hall, London, on July 13, 1833, from this
            sort of detraction and villification is of historic value:

         </p>
         <p>
            "Sir," said he, addressing the chair, "it is not possible
            <a class="newpage" name="P_163" id="P_163" title="P_163"></a>
            for the mind to coin, or the tongue to utter
            baser libels against an injured people. Their condition
            is as much superior to that of the slaves as the
            light of heaven is more cheering than the darkness
            of the pit. Many of their number are in the most
            affluent circumstances, and distinguished for their
            refinement, enterprise, and talents. They have flourishing
            churches, supplied by pastors of their own
            color, in various parts of the land, embracing a large
            body of the truly excellent of the earth. They have
            public and private libraries. They have their temperance
            societies, their debating societies, their moral
            societies, their literary societies, their benevolent societies,
            their saving societies, and a multitude of kindred
            associations. They have their infant schools,
            their primary and high schools, their sabbath schools,
            and their Bible classes. They contribute to the support
            of foreign and domestic missions to Bible and tract
            societies, etc. In the city of Philadelphia alone they
            have more than fifty associations for moral and intellectual
            improvement. In fact, they are rising up,
            even with mountains of prejudice piled upon them,
            with more than Titanic strength, and trampling beneath
            their feet the slanders of their enemies. A
            spirit of virtuous emulation is pervading their ranks,
            from the young child to the gray head. Among them
            is taken a large number of daily and weekly newspapers,
            and of literary and scientific periodicals, from
            the popular monthlies up to the grave and erudite
            <i>North American</i> and
            <i>American Quarterly Reviews</i>. I
            have at this moment, to my own paper, the
            <i>Liberator</i>,
            one thousand subscribers among this people; and,
            from an occupancy of the editorial chair for more
            <a class="newpage" name="P_164" id="P_164" title="P_164"></a>
            than seven years, I can testify that they are more
            punctual in their payments than any five hundred
            white subscribers whose names I ever placed indiscriminately
            in my subscription book."

         </p>
         <p>
            There was an earnest desire on the part of the free
            people of color to raise the level of their class in the
            Union. At a convention held by them in Philadelphia,
            in 1831, they resolved upon a measure calculated
            to make up, to some extent, the deprivations
            which their children were suffering by being excluded
            from the higher schools of learning in the land. So
            they determined to establish a college on the manual-labor
            system for the education of colored youth.
            They appealed for aid to their benevolent friends,
            and fixed upon New Haven as the place to build their
            institution. Arthur Tappan, with customary beneficence,
            "purchased several acres of land, in the southerly
            part of the city, and made arrangements for the
            erection of a suitable building, and furnishing it with
            needful supplies, in a way to do honor to the city
            and country."

         </p>
         <p>
            The school, however, was never established owing
            to the violent hostility of the citizens, who with the
            Mayor, Aldermen, and Common Council resolved in
            public meeting to "<em>resist</em> the establishment of the
            proposed college in this place by every lawful means."

         </p>
         <p>
            The free people of color were derided because of
            their ignorance by their persecutors, but when they
            and their friends proposed a plan to reduce that ignorance,
            their persecutors bitterly opposed its execution.
            New Haven piety and philanthropy, as embodied
            in the Colonization Society, were not bent on the
            education of this class but on its emigration to the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_165" id="P_165" title="P_165"></a>
            coast of Africa solely. In such sorry contradictions
            and cruelties did American prejudice against color
            involve American Christianity and humanity.

         </p>
         <p>
            This outrage was perpetrated in 1831. Two years
            afterward Connecticut enacted altogether the most
            shameful crime in her history. There lived in the
            year 1833, in the town of Canterbury, in that State,
            an accomplished young Quaker woman, named Prudence
            Crandall. Besides a superior education, she
            possessed the highest character. And this was well;
            for she was the principal of the Female Boarding
            School located in that town. The institution was, in
            1833, at the beginning of its third year, and in a flourishing
            condition. While pursuing her vocation of a
            teacher, Miss Crandall made the acquaintance of the
            <i>Liberator</i> through a "nice colored girl," who was
            at service in the school. Abhorring slavery from childhood,
            it is no wonder that the earnestness of the
            <i>Liberator</i> exerted an immediate and lasting
            influence upon the sympathies of the young principal. The
            more she read and the more she thought upon the
            subject the more aroused she became to the wrongs
            of which her race was guilty to the colored people.
            She, too, would lend them a helping hand in their
            need. Presently there came to her a colored girl
            who was thirsting for an education such as the Canterbury
            Boarding School for young ladies was dispensing
            to white girls. This was Miss Crandall's
            opportunity to do something for the colored people,
            and she admitted the girl to her classes. But she
            had no sooner done so than there were angry objections
            to the girl's remaining.

         </p>
         <p>
            "The wife of an Episcopal clergyman who lived in
            <a class="newpage" name="P_166" id="P_166" title="P_166"></a>
            the village," Miss Crandall records, "told me that if
            I continued that colored girl in my school it would
            not be sustained."

         </p>
         <p>
            She heroically refused to turn the colored pupil out
            of the school, and thereby caused a most extraordinary
            exhibition of Connecticut chivalry and Christianity.

         </p>
         <p>
            Seeing how matters stood with her in these circumstances,
            Prudence Crandall conceived the remarkable
            purpose of devoting her school to the education of
            colored girls exclusively. She did not know whether
            her idea was practicable, and so in her perplexity she
            turned for counsel to the editor of the
            <i>Liberator</i>. She
            went to Boston for this purpose, and there, at the old
            Marlboro' Hotel, on Washington street, on the evening
            of January 29, 1833, she discussed this business
            with Mr. Garrison. This visit and interview confirmed
            the brave soul in her desire to change her
            school into one for the higher education of colored
            girls. It was expected that a sufficient number of
            such pupils could be obtained from well-to-do colored
            families in cities like Boston, Providence, and New
            York to assure the financial success of the enterprise.
            When Miss Crandall had fully matured her plans in
            the premises she announced them to the Canterbury
            public. But if she had announced that she contemplated
            opening a college for the spread of contagious
            diseases among her townspeople, Canterbury
            could not possibly have been more agitated and
            horrified. Every door in the village was slammed in
            her face. She was denounced in town meetings, and
            there was not chivalry enough to cause a single
            neighbor to speak in her defence. Samuel J. May
            had to come from an adjoining town for this purpose.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_167" id="P_167" title="P_167"></a>
            "But," says Mr. May, "they would not hear
            me. They shut their ears and rushed upon me with
            threats of personal violence."

         </p>
         <p>
            As there was nothing in the statutes of Connecticut
            which made the holding of such a school as that
            of Miss Crandall's illegal, the good Canterbury folk
            procured the passage of a hasty act through the Legislature,
            which was then in session, "making it a
            penal offence, punishable by fine and imprisonment,
            for any one in that State keeping a school to take as
            his or her pupils the children of colored people of
            other States." But the heart of the young Quaker
            woman was the heart of a heroine. She dared to
            disregard the wicked law, was arrested, bound over
            for trial, and sent to jail like a common malefactor.
            It was no use, persecution could not cow the noble
            prisoner into submission to the infamous statute. In
            her emergency truth raised up friends who rallied
            about her in the unparalleled contest which raged
            around her person and her school. There was no
            meanness or maliciousness to which her enemies did
            not stoop to crush and ruin her and her cause. "The
            newspapers of the county and of the adjoining counties
            teemed with the grossest misrepresentations, and
            the vilest insinuations," says Mr. May, "against Miss
            Crandall, her pupils, and her patrons; but for the
            most part, peremptorily refused us any room in their
            columns to explain our principles and purposes, or to
            refute the slanders they were circulating." Four or
            five times within two years she was forced into court
            to defend her acts against the determined malignity
            of men who stood high in the Connecticut Church
            and State. The shops in the town boycotted her, the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_168" id="P_168" title="P_168"></a>
            churches closed their doors to her and her pupils.
            Public conveyances refused to receive them, and physicians
            to prescribe for them. It is said that the
            heroic soul was cut off from intercourse with her own
            family, in the hope doubtless that she would the
            sooner capitulate to the negro-hating sentiment of
            her neighbors. But firm in her resolve the fair
            Castellan never thought of surrendering the citadel
            of her conscience at the bidding of iniquitous power.
            Then, like savages, her foes defiled with the excrement
            of cattle the well whence the school drew its
            supply of water, attacked the house with rotten eggs
            and stones, and daubed it with filth. This drama of
            diabolism was fitly ended by the introduction of the
            fire fiend, and the burning of the detestable building
            devoted to the higher education of "niggers."
            Heathenism was, indeed, outdone by Canterbury
            Christianity.

         </p>
         <p>
            The circumstances of this outrage kindled Garrison's
            indignation to the highest pitch. Words were
            inadequate to express his emotions and agony of
            soul. In the temper of bold and clear-eyed leadership
            he wrote George W. Benson, his future brother-in-law,
            "we may as well, first as last, meet this proscriptive
            spirit, <em>and conquer it</em>.
            We&#8212;<i>i.e.</i>,
            all the friends of the cause&#8212;must make this a common concern.
            The New Haven excitement has furnished a
            bad precedent&#8212;a second must not be given or I know
            not what we can do to raise up the colored population
            in a manner which their intellectual and moral
            necessities demand. In Boston we are all excited at
            the Canterbury affair. Colonizationists are rejoicing
            and Abolitionists looking sternly." Like a true general
            <a class="newpage" name="P_169" id="P_169" title="P_169"></a>
            Garrison took in from his <i>Liberator</i> outlook the
            entire field of the struggle. No friend of the slave,
            however distant, escaped his quick sympathy or
            ready reinforcements. To him the free people of color
            turned for championship, and to the
            <i>Liberator</i> as a
            mouthpiece. The battle for their rights and for
            the freedom of their brethren in the South advanced
            apace. Everywhere the army of their friends and the
            army of their foes were in motion, and the rising
            storm winds of justice and iniquity were beginning
            "to bellow through the vast and boundless deep" of
            a nation's soul.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_170" id="P_170" title="P_170"></a></p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap9"></a>
            CHAPTER IX.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            AGITATION AND REPRESSION.

         </h2>
         <p>
            William Lloyd Garrison's return from his English
            mission was signalized by two closely related
            events, viz., the formation of the New York City
            Anti-Slavery Society, and the appearance of the first
            of a succession of anti-slavery mobs in the North.
            The news of his British successes had preceded him,
            and prepared for him a warm reception on the part of
            his pro-slavery countrymen. For had he not with
            malice prepense put down the "most glorious of
            Christian enterprises," and rebuked his own country
            in the house of strangers as recreant to freedom? And
            when O'Connell in Exeter Hall pointed the finger of
            scorn at America and made her a by-word and a hissing
            in the ears of Englishmen, was it not at a meeting
            got up to further the designs of this "misguided
            young gentlemen who has just returned from England
            whither he has recently been for the sole purpose
            as it would seem [to the <i>Commercial Advertiser</i>]
            of traducing the people and institutions of his own
            country." Had he not caught up and echoed back
            the hissing thunder of the great Irish orator:&#8212;"<i>Shame
               on the American Slaveholders</i>! Base wretches should
            we shout in chorus&#8212;base wretches, how dare you
            profane the temple of national freedom, the sacred
            <a class="newpage" name="P_171" id="P_171" title="P_171"></a>
            fane of Republican rites, with the presence and the
            sufferings of human beings in chains and slavery!"

         </p>
         <p>
            The noise of these treasons on a foreign shore,
            "deafening the sound of the westerly wave, and riding
            against the blast as thunder goes," to borrow
            O'Connell's graphic and grandiose phrases, had
            reached the country in advance of Mr. Garrison. The
            national sensitiveness was naturally enough stung to
            the quick. Here is a pestilent fellow who is not
            content with disturbing the peace of the Union with
            his new fanaticism, but must needs presume to make
            the dear Union odious before the world as well. And
            his return, what is it to be but the signal for increased
            agitation on the slavery question. The conquering
            hero comes and his fanatical followers salute him
            forthwith with a new anti-slavery society, which
            means a fresh instrument in his hands to stir up strife
            between the North and the South. "Are we tamely
            to look on, and see this most dangerous species of
            fanaticism extending itself through society?" shrieked
            on the morning of Mr. Garrison's arrival in New York
            Harbor, the malignant editor of the <i>Courier and
               Enquirer</i>.

         </p>
         <p>
            The pro-slavery and lawless elements of the city
            were not slow to take the cue given by metropolitan
            papers, and to do the duty of patriots upon their
            country's enemies. Arthur Tappen and his anti-slavery
            associates outwitted these patriotic gentlemen,
            who attended in a body at Clinton Hall on the evening
            of October 2, 1833, to perform the aforesaid duty
            of patriots, while the objects of their attention were
            convened at Chatham Street Chapel and organizing
            their new fanaticism. The mob flew wide of its
            <a class="newpage" name="P_172" id="P_172" title="P_172"></a>
            mark a second time, for when later in the evening it
            began a serenade more expressive than musical before
            the entrance to the little chapel on Chatham street
            the members of the society "folded their tents like
            the Arabs and as silently stole away." The Abolitionists
            accomplished their design and eluded their enemies
            at the same time. But the significance of the
            riotous demonstration went not unobserved by them
            and their newly arrived leader. It was plain from
            that night that if the spirit of Abolitionism had risen,
            the spirit of persecution had risen also.

         </p>
         <p>
            A somewhat similar reception saluted the reformer
            in Boston. An inflammatory handbill announced to
            his townsmen his arrival. "The true American has
            returned, <i>alias</i> William Lloyd Garrison, the 'Negro
            Champion,' from his disgraceful mission to the British
            metropolis," etc., etc., and wound up its artful list
            of lies with the malignant suggestion that "He is now
            in your power&#8212;do not let him escape you, but go
            this evening, armed with plenty of <em>tar and feathers</em>
            and administer to him justice at his abode at No. 9
            Merchant's Hall, Congress street." In obedience to
            this summons, a reception committee in the shape of
            "a dense mob, breathing threatenings which forboded
            a storm," did pay their respects to the "true American"
            in front of his abode at the <i>Liberator</i> office.
            Fortunately the storm passed over without breaking
            that evening on the devoted head of the "Negro
            Champion." But the meaning of the riotous demonstration
            it was impossible to miss. Like the mob in
            New York it clearly indicated that the country was
            on the outer edge of an area of violent disturbances
            on the subject of slavery.

         </p>
         <p><a class="newpage" name="P_173" id="P_173" title="P_173"></a>
            The peril which Garrison had twice escaped was
            indeed grave, but neither it nor the certainty of
            future persecution could flutter or depress his spirits.
            "For myself," he wrote subsequently in the
            <i>Liberator</i>,
            "I am ready to brave any danger even unto death.
            I feel no uneasiness either in regard to my fate or to
            the success of the cause of Abolition. Slavery must
            speedily be abolished; the blow that shall sever the
            chains of the slaves may shake the nation to its
            center&#8212;may momentarily disturb the pillars of the
            Union&#8212;but it shall redeem the character, extend the
            influence, establish the security, and increase the
            prosperity of our great republic." It was not the
            rage and malice of his enemies which the brave soul
            minded, but the ever-present knowledge of human
            beings in chains and slavery whom he must help.
            Nothing could separate him from his duty to them,
            neither dangers present nor persecutions to come.
            The uncertainty of life made him only the more
            zealous in their behalf. The necessity of doing, doing,
            and yet ever doing for the slave was plainly pressing
            deep like thorns into his thoughts. "I am more and
            more impressed;" he wrote a friend a few weeks later,
            "I am more and more impressed with the importance
            of 'working whilst the day lasts.' If 'we all do fade
            as a leaf,' if we are 'as the sparks that fly upward,'
            if the billows of time are swiftly removing the sandy
            foundation of our life, what we intend to do for the
            captive, and for our country, and for the subjugation
            of a hostile world, must be done quickly. Happily
            'our light afflictions are but for a moment.'"

         </p>
         <p>
            This yearning of the leader for increased activity
            in the cause of immediate emancipation was shared
            <a class="newpage" name="P_174" id="P_174" title="P_174"></a>
            by friends and disciples in different portions of the
            country. Few and scattered as were the Abolitionists,
            they so much the more needed to band together
            for the great conflict with a powerful and organized
            evil. This evil was organized on a national scale,
            the forces of righteousness which were rising against
            it, if they were ever to overcome it and rid the land
            of it, had needs to be organized on a national scale
            also. Garrison with the instinct of a great reformer
            early perceived the immense utility of a national
            anti-slavery organization for mobilizing the whole
            available Abolition sentiment of the free States in a
            moral agitation of national and tremendous proportions.

         </p>
         <p>
            He had not long to wait after his return from
            England before this desire of his soul was satisfied.
            It was in fact just a month afterward that a call for
            a convention for the formation of the American Anti-Slavery
            Society went out from New York to the friends
            of immediate emancipation throughout the North. As
            an evidence of the dangerously excited state of the
            popular mind on the subject of slavery there stands
            in the summons the significant request to delegates
            to regard the call as confidential. The place fixed
            upon for holding the convention was Philadelphia,
            and the time December 4, 1833.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison bestirred himself to obtain for the convention
            a full representation of the friends of freedom.
            He sent the call to George W. Benson, at
            Providence, urging him to spread the news among
            the Abolitionists of his neighborhood and to secure
            the election of a goodly number of delegates by the
            society in Rhode Island. He forthwith bethought
            <a class="newpage" name="P_175" id="P_175" title="P_175"></a>
            him of Whittier on his farm in Haverhill, and
            enjoined his old friend to fail not to appear in Philadelphia.
            But while the young poet longed to go to
            urge upon his Quaker brethren of that city "to make
            their solemn testimony against slavery visible over
            the whole land&#8212;to urge them, by the holy memories
            of Woolman and Benezet and Tyson to come up as
            of old to the standard of Divine Truth, though even
            the fires of another persecution should blaze around
            them," he feared that he would not be able to do so.
            The spirit was surely willing but the purse was
            empty, "as thee know," he quaintly adds, "our farming
            business does not put much cash in our pockets."
            The cash he needed was generously supplied by
            Samuel E. Sewall, and Whittier went as a delegate
            to the convention after all. The disposition on the
            part of some of the poorer delegates was so strong to
            be present at the convention that not even the lack
            of money was sufficient to deter them from setting
            out on the expedition. Two of them, David T. Kimball
            and Daniel E. Jewett, from Andover, Mass., did
            actually supplement the deficiencies of their pocket-books
            by walking to New Haven, the aforesaid
            pocket-books being equal to the rest of the journey
            from that point.

         </p>
         <p>
            About sixty delegates found their way to Philadelphia
            and organized on the morning of December 4th,
            in Adelphi Hall, the now famous convention. It was
            a notable gathering of apostolic spirits&#8212;"mainly
            composed of comparatively young men, some in
            middle age, and a few beyond that period." They
            had come together from ten of the twelve free States,
            which fact goes to show the rapid, the almost epidemic-like
            <a class="newpage" name="P_176" id="P_176" title="P_176"></a>
            spread of Garrisonian Abolitionism through
            the North. The <i>Liberator</i> was then scarcely three
            years old, and its editor had not until the second day
            of the convention attained the great age of twenty-eight!
            The convention of 1787 did not comprise
            more genuine patriotism and wisdom than did this
            memorable assembly of American Abolitionists. It
            was from beginning to end an example of love to
            God and love to men, of fearless scorn of injustice
            and fearless devotion to liberty. Not one of those
            three score souls who made up the convention, who
            did not take his life in his hand by reason of the
            act. It was not the love of fame surely which brought
            them over so many hundreds of miles, which made so
            many of them endure real physical privation, which
            drew all by a common, an irresistible impulse to congregate
            for an unpopular purpose within reach of
            the teeth and the claws of an enraged public
            opinion.

         </p>
         <p>
            The convention, as one man might have said with
            the single-minded Lundy, "My heart was deeply
            grieved at the gross abomination; I heard the wail
            of the captive; I felt his pang of distress; and the
            iron entered my soul." The iron of slavery had
            indeed entered the soul of every member of the convention.
            It was the divine pang and pity of it which
            collected from the East and from the West this remarkable
            body of reformers.

         </p>
         <p>
            The story of how they had to find a president illustrates
            the contemporary distrust and antagonism,
            which the anti-slavery movement aroused among the
            men of standing and influence. Knowing in what
            bad odor they were held by the community, and anxious
            <a class="newpage" name="P_177" id="P_177" title="P_177"></a>
            only to serve their cause in the most effective
            manner, the members of the convention hit upon the
            plan of asking some individual eminent for his respectability
            to preside over their deliberations, and
            thereby disarm the public suspicions and quiet the
            general apprehensions felt in respect of the incendiary
            character of their intention. So in pursuance
            of this plan six of their number were dispatched on
            the evening of December 3d to seek such a man. But
            the quest of the committee like that of Diogenes
            proved a failure. After two attempts and two
            repulses the committee were not disposed to invite
            the humiliation of a third refusal and must have listened
            with no little relief, to this blunt summary of
            the situation by Beriah Green, who was one of the
            six. "If there is not timber amongst ourselves,"
            quoth Green, "big enough to make a president of,
            let us get along without one, or go home and stay
            there until we have grown up to be men." The next
            day Green was chosen, and established in a manner
            never to be forgotten by his associates that the convention
            did possess "timber big enough to make a
            president of."

         </p>
         <p>
            Narrow as were the circumstances of many of the
            members, the convention was by no means destitute
            of men of wealth and business prominence. Such were
            the Winslows, Isaac and Nathan, of Maine, Arnold
            Buffum, of Massachusetts, and John Rankin and
            Lewis Tappan, of New York. Scholarship, talents,
            and eloquence abounded among the delegates. Here
            there was no lack, no poverty, but extraordinary sufficiency,
            almost to redundancy. The presence of the
            gentler sex was not wanting to lend grace and picturesqueness
            <a class="newpage" name="P_178" id="P_178" title="P_178"></a>
            to the occasion. The beautiful and benignant
            countenance of Lucretia Mott shed over the
            proceedings the soft radiance of a pure and regnant
            womanhood; while the handful of colored delegates
            with the elegant figure of Robert Purvis at their head,
            added pathos and picturesqueness to the <i>personnel</i> of
            the convention. Neither was the element of danger
            wanting to complete the historic scene. Its presence
            was grimly manifest in the official intimation that
            evening meetings of the convention could not be protected,
            by the demonstrations of popular ill-will which
            the delegates encountered on the streets, by the
            detachment of constabulary guarding the entrance to
            Adelphi Hall, and by the thrillingly significant precaution
            observed by the delegates of sitting with locked
            doors. Over the assembly it impended cruel and
            menacing like fate. Once securely locked within the
            hall, the Abolitionists discreetly abstained from leaving
            it at noon for dinner, well knowing how small a
            spark it takes to kindle a great fire. It was foolhardy
            to show themselves unnecessarily to the excited
            crowds in the streets, and so mindful that true courage
            consisteth not in recklessness, they despatched
            one of their number for crackers and cheese, which
            they washed down with copious draughts of cold
            water. But they had that to eat and drink besides,
            whereof the spirits of mischief without could not
            conceive.

         </p>
         <p>
            The grand achievement of the convention was, of
            course, the formation of the American Anti-Slavery
            Society, but the crown of the whole was unquestionably
            the Declaration of Sentiments. The composition
            of this instrument has an interesting history. It
            <a class="newpage" name="P_179" id="P_179" title="P_179"></a>
            seems that the delegates considered that the remarkable
            character of the movement which they were
            launching upon the wide sea of national attention
            demanded of them an expression altogether worthy
            of so momentous an undertaking. The adoption of
            a constitution for this purpose was felt to be inadequate.
            A constitution was indispensable, but some
            other expression was necessary to give to their work
            its proper proportion and importance. Such a manifestation
            it was deemed meet to make in the form of
            a declaration of sentiments. A committee was accordingly
            appointed to draft the declaration. This committee
            named three of its number, consisting of Garrison,
            Whittier, and Samuel J. May to draw up the
            document. The sub-committee in turn deputed Garrison
            to do the business.

         </p>
         <p>
            Mr. May has told in his <i>Recollections of the Anti-Slavery
               Conflict</i>, how he and Whittier left their friend
            at ten o'clock in the evening, agreeing to call at eight
            the following morning and how on their return at
            the appointed hour they found Garrison with shutters
            closed and lamps burning, penning the last paragraph
            of the admirable document. He has told how
            they three read it over together two or three times,
            making some slight alterations in it, and how at nine
            o'clock the draft was laid by them before the whole
            committee. The author of the recollections has left
            a graphic account of its effect upon the convention.
            "Never in my life," he says, "have I seen a deeper
            impression made by words than was made by that
            admirable document upon all who were present.
            After the voice of the reader had ceased there was
            silence for several minutes. Our hearts were in perfect
            <a class="newpage" name="P_180" id="P_180" title="P_180"></a>
            unison. There was but one thought with us all.
            Either of the members could have told what the
            whole convention felt. We felt that the word had
            just been uttered which would be mighty, through
            God, to the pulling down of the strongholds of
            slavery." Such was the scene at the first reading of
            the Declaration of Sentiments, Dr. Atlee, the reader.
            The effect at its final reading was, if possible, even
            more dramatic and eloquent. Whittier has depicted
            this closing and thrilling scene. He has described
            how Samuel J. May read the declaration for the last
            time. "His sweet, persuasive voice faltered with
            the intensity of his emotions as he repeated the
            solemn pledges of the concluding paragraphs. After
            a season of silence, David Thurston of Maine, rose as
            his name was called by one of the secretaries and
            affixed his name to the document. One after another
            passed up to the platform, signed, and retired in
            silence. All felt the deep responsibility of the occasion&#8212;the
            shadow and forecast of a life-long struggle
            rested upon every countenance."

         </p>
         <p>
            The effects, so electrical and impressive, which followed
            the reading of the declaration were not
            disproportioned to its merits, for it was an instrument
            of singular power, wisdom, and eloquence.
            Indeed, to this day, more than half a century after it
            was written it still has virtue to quicken the breath
            and stir the pulses of a sympathetic reader out of
            their normal time. A great passion for freedom and
            righteousness irradiates like a central light the whole
            memorable document. It begins by a happy reference
            to an earlier convention, held some fifty-seven
            years before in the same place, and which adopted a
            <a class="newpage" name="P_181" id="P_181" title="P_181"></a>
            declaration holding "that all men are created equal;
            that they are endowed by their Creator with certain
            inalienable rights; that among these are life, <b>LIBERTY</b>,
            and the pursuit of happiness;" and how at the trumpet-call
            of its authors three millions of people rushed
            to arms "deeming it more glorious to die instantly
            as free men, than desirable to live one hour as slaves";
            and how, though few in number and poor in resources
            those same people were rendered invincible
            by the conviction that truth, justice, and right were
            on their side. But the freedom won by the men of
            1776 was incomplete without the freedom for which
            the men of 1833 were striving. The authors of the
            new declaration would not be inferior to the authors
            of the old "in purity of motive, in earnestness of
            zeal, in decision of purpose, intrepidity of action, in
            steadfastness of faith, in sincerity of spirit." Unlike
            the older actors, the younger had eschewed the
            sword, the spilling of human blood in defence of
            their principles. Theirs was a moral warfare, the
            grappling of truth with error, of the power of love
            with the inhumanities of the nation. Then it glances
            at the wrongs which the fathers suffered, and at the
            enormities which the slaves were enduring. The
            "fathers were never slaves, never bought and sold
            like cattle, never shut out from the light of knowledge
            and religion, never subjected to the lash of brutal
            taskmasters," but all these woes and more, an unimaginable
            mountain of agony and misery, was the
            appalling lot of the slaves in the Southern States.
            The guilt of this nation, which partners such a crime
            against human nature, "is unequaled by any other
            on earth," and therefore it is bound to instant repentance,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_182" id="P_182" title="P_182"></a>
            and to the immediate restitution of justice to
            the oppressed.

         </p>
         <p>
            The Declaration of Sentiments denies the right of
            man to hold property in a brother man, affirms the
            identity in principle between the African slave trade
            and American slavery, the imprescriptibility of the
            rights of the slaves to liberty, the nullity of all laws
            which run counter to human rights, and the grand
            doctrine of civil and political equality in the Republic,
            regardless of race and complexional differences.
            It boldly rejects the principle of compensated emancipation,
            because it involves a surrender of the position
            that man cannot hold property in man; because
            slavery is a crime, and the master is not wronged by
            emancipation but the slaves righted, restored to
            themselves; because immediate and general emancipation
            would only destroy nominal, not real, property,
            the labor of the slaves would still remain to the
            masters and doubled by the new motives which freedom
            infuses into the breasts of her children; and,
            finally because, if compensation is to be given at all it
            ought to be given to those who have been plundered
            of their rights. It spurns in one compact paragraph
            the pretensions of the colonization humbug as "delusive,
            cruel, and dangerous."

         </p>
         <p>
            But lofty and uncompromising as were the moral
            principles and positions of the declaration, it nevertheless
            recognized with perspicuity of vision the
            Constitutional limitations of the Federal Government
            in relation to slavery. It frankly conceded
            that Congress had no right to meddle with the evil in
            any of the States. But wherever the national jurisdiction
            reached the general government was bound
            <a class="newpage" name="P_183" id="P_183" title="P_183"></a>
            to interfere and suppress the traffic in human flesh.
            It was the duty of Congress, inasmuch as it possessed
            the power, to abolish slavery in the District of
            Columbia, the National Territories, along the coast
            and between the States. The free States are the
            <i>particeps criminis</i> of the slave States. They are
            living under a pledge of their tremendous physical force to
            rivet the manacles of chattel slavery upon millions in
            the South; they are liable at any instant to be called
            on under the Constitution to suppress a general
            insurrection of the slaves. This relationship is criminal,
            "is full of danger, <b>IT MUST BE BROKEN UP</b>."

         </p>
         <p>
            So much for the views and principles of the
            declaration, now for the designs and measures as
            enumerated therein: "We shall organize anti-slavery
            societies, if possible, in every city, town and village
            in our land.

         </p>
         <p>
            "We shall send forth agents to lift up the voice of
            remonstrance, of warning, of entreaty, and of rebuke.

         </p>
         <p>
            "We shall circulate, unsparingly and extensively,
            anti-slavery tracts and periodicals.

         </p>
         <p>
            "We shall enlist the pulpit and the press in the
            cause of the suffering and the dumb.

         </p>
         <p>
            "We shall aim at a purification of the churches
            from all participation in the guilt of slavery.

         </p>
         <p>
            "We shall encourage the labor of freemen rather
            than that of slaves, by giving a preference to their
            productions; and

         </p>
         <p>
            "We shall spare no exertions nor means to bring
            the whole nation to speedy repentance."

         </p>
         <p>
            The instrument closes by pledging the utmost of
            its signers to the overthrow of slavery&#8212;"come what
            may to our persons, our interests, or our reputations&#8212;whether
            <a class="newpage" name="P_184" id="P_184" title="P_184"></a>
            we live to witness the triumph of Liberty,
            Justice, and Humanity, or perish untimely as martyrs
            in this great, benevolent, and holy cause." Twin
            pledge it was to that ancestral, historic one made in
            1776: "And for the support of this declaration, with
            a firm reliance on the protection of <b>DIVINE PROVIDENCE</b>,
            we mutually pledge to each other, our lives,
            our fortunes, and our sacred honor."

         </p>
         <p>
            Whittier has predicted for the Declaration of
            Sentiments an enduring fame: "It will live," he
            declares, "as long as our national history." Samuel
            J. May was equally confident that this "Declaration of
            the Rights of Man," as he proudly cherished it, would
            "live a perpetual, impressive protest against every
            form of oppression, until it shall have given place to
            that brotherly kindness which all the children of the
            common Father owe to one another." As a particular
            act and parchment-roll of high thoughts and
            resolves, highly expressed, it will not, I think, attain
            to the immortality predicted for it. For as such it
            has in less than two generations passed almost
            entirely out of the knowledge and recollection of
            Americans. But in another sense it is destined to
            realize all that has been foreshadowed for it by its
            friends. Like elemental fire its influence will glow
            and flame at the center of our national life long after
            as a separate and sovereign entity it shall have been
            forgotten by the descendants of its illustrious author
            and signers.

         </p>
         <p>
            The convention was in session three days, and its
            proceedings were filled with good resolutions and
            effective work. Arthur Tappan was elected President
            of the national organization, and William Green,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_185" id="P_185" title="P_185"></a>
            Jr., Treasurer. Elizur Wright, Jr., was chosen Secretary
            of Domestic Correspondence, William Lloyd
            Garrison Secretary of Foreign Correspondence, and
            Abraham L. Cox Recording Secretary. Besides
            these officers there were a Board of Management and
            a number of Vice-Presidents selected. For three
            days the hearts of the delegates burned within them
            toward white-browed Duty and the master, Justice,
            who stood in their midst and talked with divine
            accents to their spirits of how men were enslaved
            and cruelly oppressed by men, their own brothers,
            and how the cry of these bondmen came up to
            them for help. And with one accord there fell upon
            the delegates a pang and pity, an uplifting, impelling
            sense of 'woe unto us' if we withhold from our
            brethren in bonds the help required of us. This
            rising tide of emotion and enthusiasm gathering
            mass at each sitting of the convention, culminated
            during the several readings of the Declaration of
            Sentiments. And when on the third day Beriah
            Green brought the congress to a close in a valedictory
            address of apostolic power and grandeur, and
            with a prayer so sweet, so fervent, and strong as to
            melt all hearts, the pent-up waters of the reform was
            ready to hurl themselves into an agitation the like
            of which had never before, nor has since, been seen
            or felt in the Union. Thenceforth freedom's little
            ones were not without great allies, who were "exultations,
            agonies, and love, and man's unconquerable
            mind."

         </p>
         <p>
            Everywhere the flood of Abolitionism burst upon
            the land, everywhere the moral deluge spread through
            the free States. Anti-slavery societies rose as it were,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_186" id="P_186" title="P_186"></a>
            out of the ground, so rapid, so astonishing were their
            growth during the year following the formation of
            the national society. In nearly every free State they
            had appeared doubling and quadrupling in number,
            until new societies reached in that first year to upwards
            of forty. Anti-slavery agents and lecturers
            kept pace with the anti-slavery societies. They began
            to preach, to remonstrate, to warn, entreat, and rebuke
            until their voices sounded like the roar of many
            waters in the ears of the people. Wherever there was
            a school-house, a hall, or a church, there they were,
            ubiquitous, irrepressible, a cry in the wilderness of a
            nation's iniquity. Anti-slavery tracts and periodicals
            multiplied and started from New York and Boston
            in swarms, and clouds, the thunder of their wings
            were as the thunder of falling avalanches to the guilty
            conscience of the country. There was no State,
            city, town, or village in the Republic where their
            voice was not heard.

         </p>
         <p>
            The Rev. Amos A Phelp's "Lectures on Slavery
            and Its Remedy;" "the Rev. J.D. Paxton's 'Letters
            on Slavery'; the Rev. S.J. May's letters to Andrew
            T. Judson, 'The Rights of Colored People to Education
            Vindicated'; Prof. Elizur Wright, Jr.'s, 'Sin of
            Slavery and Its Remedy'; Whittier's 'Justice and Expediency';
            and, above all, Mrs. Lydia Maria Child's
            startling 'Appeal in favor of that class of Americans
            called Africans' were the more potent of the new
            crop of writings betokening the vigor of Mr. Garrison's
            Propagandism," says that storehouse of anti-slavery
            facts the "Life of Garrison" by his children.
            Swift poured the flood, widespread the inundation of
            anti-slavery publications. Money, although not commensurate
            <a class="newpage" name="P_187" id="P_187" title="P_187"></a>
            with the vast wants of the crusade, came
            in copious and generous streams. A marvelous
            munificence characterized the charity of wealthy
            Abolitionists. The poor gave freely of their mite,
            and the rich as freely of their thousands. Something
            of the state of simplicity and community of goods
            which marked the early disciples of Christianity
            seemed to have revived in the hearts of this band of
            American reformers. A spirit of renunciation, of
            self-sacrifice, of brotherly kindness, of passionate love
            of righteousness, of passionate hatred of wrong, of
            self-consecration to truth and of martyrdom lifted
            the reform to as high a moral level as had risen
            any movement for the betterment of mankind in any
            age of the world.

         </p>
         <p>
            The resolutions of the signers of the Declaration of
            Sentiment, to enlist the pulpit in the cause of the
            suffering and dumb, and to attempt the purification
            of the churches from all participation in the guilt of
            slavery, encountered determined opposition from the
            pulpits and the churches themselves. The Abolitionists
            were grieved and indignant at the pro-slavery
            spirit which pulpits and churches displayed. But
            what happened was as we now look back at those
            proceedings, an inevitable occurrence, a foregone
            conclusion. The pulpits were only representative of
            the religion of the pews, and the pews were occupied
            by the same sort of humanity that toil and spin and
            haggle over dollars and cents six out of every seven
            days. They have their selfish and invested interests,
            fixed social notions, relationships, and prejudices,
            which an episode like Sunday, churches, and sermons
            do not seriously affect. Indeed, Sunday, churches,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_188" id="P_188" title="P_188"></a>
            and sermons constitute an institution of modern civilization
            highly conservative of invested interests,
            fixed social notions, relationships, and prejudices.
            Who advances a new idea, a reformatory movement,
            disturbs the <i>status quo</i>, stirs up the human bees in
            that great hive called society, and that lesser one
            called the church, and he must needs expect to have
            the swarm about his head.

         </p>
         <p>
            This was precisely what happened in the case of
            the anti-slavery movement. It threatened the then
            <i>status quo</i> of property rights, it attacked the
            fixed social notions, relationships, and prejudices of the
            South and of the North alike. The revolution which
            this new idea involved in the slave States, was of the
            most radical character, going down to a complete reconstruction
            of their entire social system. At once
            the human hornets were aroused, and in these circumstances,
            the innocent and the guilty were furiously
            beset. Because the new idea which disturbed the
            South had originated in the North, the wrath of the
            South rose hot against not the authors of the new
            idea alone but against the people of that section as
            well. But this sectional unpleasantness endangered
            the stability of the Union, and menaced with obstructions
            and diversions the golden stream of Northern
            traffic, dollars, and dividends. This was intolerable,
            and forthwith the Apiarian brotherhood of the free
            States put together their heads with those of the slave
            States to attack, sting, and utterly abolish the new
            idea, and the new idea's supporters. The Northern
            churches were, of course, in the Northern brotherhood.
            And when the new fanaticism threatened the
            financial stability of the pews, the pulpits instead of
            <a class="newpage" name="P_189" id="P_189" title="P_189"></a>
            exerting themselves in behalf of the suffering and
            dumb slaves, exerted themselves to preserve the prosperity
            of the pews by frowning down the friends of
            the slaves. They were among the first to stone the
            new idea and its fiery prophets. "Away with them!"
            shouted in chorus pulpit and pews. Sad? yes, but
            alas! natural, too. These men were not better nor
            worse than the average man. They were the average
            men of their generation, selfish, narrow, material,
            encrusted in their prejudices like snails in their shells,
            struggling upward at a snail's pace to the larger life,
            with its added sweetness and humanities, but experiencing
            many a discomfiture by the way from those
            foul and triple fiends, the World, the Flesh, and the
            Devil.

         </p>
         <p>
            Nowhere in the churches was their opposition to
            the Abolition movement more persistent and illiberal
            than in the theological seminaries, whence the pulpits
            drew their supplies of preachers. Like master, like
            servant, these institutions were indentured to the public,
            and reflected as in a mirror the body and pressure
            of its life and sentiment. That a stream cannot rise
            higher than its source, although a theological stream,
            found remarkable demonstration in the case of Lane
            Seminary. Here after the publication of the
            "Thoughts on Colonization," and the formation of
            the National Society, an earnest spirit of inquiry broke
            out among the students on the subject of slavery. It
            was at first encouraged by the President, Lyman
            Beecher, who offered to go in and discuss the question
            with his "boys." That eminent man did not long
            remain in this mind. The discussions which he so
            lightly allowed swept through the institution with the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_190" id="P_190" title="P_190"></a>
            force of a great moral awakening. They were continued
            during nine evenings and turned the seminary
            at their close, so far as the students went, into an
            anti-slavery society. This is not the place to go at
            length into the history of that anti-slavery debate,
            which, in its consequences, proved one of the events
            of the anti-slavery conflict. Its leader was Theodore
            D. Weld, who was until Wendell Phillips appeared
            upon the scene, the great orator of the agitation.

         </p>
         <p>
            Dr. Beecher had no notion of raising such a ghost
            when he said, "Go ahead, boys, I'll go in and discuss
            with you." It was such an apparition of independence
            and righteousness as neither the power of the trustees
            nor the authority of the faculty was ever able to dismiss.
            The virtue of a gag rule was tried to suppress
            Abolition among the students, but instead of suppressing
            Abolition, it well-nigh suppressed the seminary;
            for, rather than wear a gag on the obnoxious subject,
            the students&#8212;to between seventy and eighty, comprising
            nearly the whole muster-roll of the school&#8212;withdrew
            from an institution where the exercise of the
            right of free inquiry and free speech on a great moral
            question was denied and repressed. The same spirit
            of repression arose later in the Theological School at
            Andover, Mass. There the gag was effectively applied
            by the faculty, and all inquiry and discussion relating
            to slavery disappeared among the students. But
            the attempt to impose silence upon the students of
            Phillips's Academy near-by was followed by the secession
            of forty or fifty of the students.

         </p>
         <p>
            Ah! the Abolitionists had undertaken to achieve
            the impossible, when they undertook to enlist the
            pulpit in the cause of the slaves, and to purify the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_191" id="P_191" title="P_191"></a>
            churches from all participation in the guilt of slavery.
            For the average man, whether within or without the
            church, is not controlled in his conduct toward his
            brother man by the principles and precepts of Jesus,
            but by the laws of social and individual selfishness.
            These selfish forces may at epochal moments align
            themselves with justice and liberty, and they not
            infrequently do, otherwise human progress must be
            at an end. In advancing themselves, they perforce
            advance justice and liberty. Thus do men love their
            neighbors as themselves, and move forward to fraternity
            and equality in kingdoms and commonwealths.
            The special province of moral reformers, like Garrison
            and the Abolitionists, seems to be to set these
            egoistic and altruistic elements of human society at
            war, the one against the other, thereby compelling its
            members and classes, willy nilly, to choose between
            the belligerents. Some will enlist on one side, some
            on the other, but in the furnace heat of the passions
            which ensues, an ancient evil, or a bad custom or
            institution, gets the vitality burned out of it, which in
            due time falls as slag out of the new order that arises
            at the close of the conflict.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_192" id="P_192" title="P_192"></a></p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap10"></a>
            CHAPTER X.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            BETWEEN THE ACTS.

         </h2>
         <p>
            Mr. Garrison, in a private letter to a friend under
            date of September 12, 1834, summarises the doings
            of the preceding twelve months of his life, and makes
            mention of a fact which lends peculiar interest to
            that time: "It has been the most eventful year," he
            remarks, "in my history. I have been the occasion
            of many uproars, and a continual disturber of the
            public peace. As soon as I landed I turned the city
            of New York upside down. Five thousand people
            turned out to see me tarred and feathered, but were
            disappointed. There was also a small hubbub in
            Boston on my arrival. The excitement passed away,
            but invective and calumny still followed me. By
            dint of some industry and much persuasion, I succeeded
            in inducing the Abolitionists in New York to
            join our little band in Boston, in calling a national
            convention at Philadelphia. We met, and such a
            body of men, for zeal, firmness, integrity, benevolence,
            and moral greatness, the world has rarely seen in
            a single assembly. Inscribed upon a declaration which
            it was my exalted privilege to write, their names can
            perish only with the knowledge of the history of our
            times. A National Anti-Slavery Society was formed,
            which astonished the country by its novelty, and
            <a class="newpage" name="P_193" id="P_193" title="P_193"></a>
            awed it by its boldness. In five months its first annual
            meeting was held in the identical city in which, only
            seven antecedent months, Abolitionists were in peril
            of their lives. In ability, interest, and solemnity it
            took precedence of all the great religious celebrations
            which took place at the same time. During the same
            month, a New England anti-slavery convention was
            held in Boston, and so judicious were its measures,
            so eloquent its appeals, so unequivocal its resolutions,
            that it at once gave shape and character to the anti-slavery
            cause in this section of the Union. In the
            midst of all these mighty movements, I have wooed
            "a fair ladye," and won her, have thrown aside
            celibacy, and jumped body and soul into matrimony,
            have sunk the character of bachelor in that of husband,
            have settled down into domestic quietude, and
            repudiated all my roving desires, and have found that
            which I have long been yearning to find, a home, a
            wife, and a beautiful retreat from a turbulent city."

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison does not exaggerate the importance of
            the initiatives and achievements of the year, or the
            part played by him in its history. His activity was
            indeed phenomenal, and the service rendered by him
            to the reform, was unrivaled. He was in incessant
            motion, originating, directing, inspiring the agitation
            in all portions of the North. What strikes one
            strongly in studying the pioneer is his sleeplessness,
            his indefatigableness, his persistency in pursuit of his
            object. Others may rest after a labor, may have
            done one, two, or three distinct tasks, but between
            Garrison's acts there is no hiatus, each follows each,
            and is joined to all like links in a chain. He never
            closed his eyes, nor folded his arms, but went forward
            <a class="newpage" name="P_194" id="P_194" title="P_194"></a>
            from work to work with the consecutiveness of
            a law of nature.

         </p>
         <p>
            But amid labors so strenuous and uninterrupted
            the leader found opportunity to woo and win "a fair
            ladye." She was a daughter of a veteran Abolitionist,
            George Benson, of Brooklyn, Conn., who with his
            sons George W. and Henry E. Benson, were among
            the stanchest of the reformer's followers and supporters.
            The young wife, before her marriage, was
            not less devoted to the cause than they. She was in
            closest sympathy with her husband's anti-slavery
            interests and purposes. Never had husband found wife
            better fitted to his needs, and the needs of his life
            work. So that it might be truly said that Garrison
            even when he went a-wooing forgot not his cause and
            that when he took a wife, he made at the same time
            a grand contribution to its ultimate triumph.

         </p>
         <p>
            How did Helen Eliza Garrison serve the great
            cause? One who knew shall tell. He has told it in
            his own unequaled way. "That home," he says, "was
            a great help. Her husband's word and pen scattered
            his purpose far and wide; but the comrades that his
            ideas brought to his side her welcome melted into
            friends. No matter how various and discordant they
            were in many things&#8212;no matter how much there was
            to bear and overlook&#8212;her patience and her thanks
            for their sympathy in the great idea were always sufficient
            for the work also.... In that group of remarkable
            men and women which the anti-slavery movement
            drew together, she had her own niche&#8212;which
            no one else could have filled so perfectly or unconsciously
            as she did.... She forgot, omitted nothing.
            How much we all owe her!" These were words
            <a class="newpage" name="P_195" id="P_195" title="P_195"></a>
            spoken by a friend, whose name will appear later on
            in this story; words spoken by him at the close of her
            beautiful life, as she lay dead in her coffin.

         </p>
         <p>
            And here is another account of her written by the
            husband on the first anniversary of their marriage:
            "I did not marry her," he confides to her brother
            George, "expecting that she would assume a prominent
            station in the anti-slavery cause, but for domestic
            quietude and happiness. So completely absorbed
            am I in that cause, that it was undoubtedly wise in
            me to select as a partner one who, while her benevolent
            feelings were in union with mine, was less immediately
            and entirely connected with it. I knew she
            was naturally diffident, and distrustful of her own
            ability to do all that her heart might prompt. She is
            one of those who prefer to toil unseen&#8212;to give by
            stealth&#8212;and to sacrifice in seclusion. By her unwearied
            attention to my wants, her sympathetic regards,
            her perfect equanimity of mind, and her sweet and
            endearing manners; she is no trifling support to
            Abolitionism, inasmuch as she lightens my labors, and
            enables me to find exquisite delight in the family circle,
            as an offset to public adversity."

         </p>
         <p>
            And here is a lovely bit of self-revelation made to her
            betrothed several months before they were wedded.
            "I am aware of the responsibility that will devolve
            upon me," she writes, "and how much my example
            will be copied among that class you have so long
            labored to elevate and enlighten. I have been considering
            how the colored people think of dress, and
            how much of their profits are expended for useless
            ornaments that foolishly tend to make a show and
            parade. As much stress will, of course, be laid on
            <a class="newpage" name="P_196" id="P_196" title="P_196"></a>
            Garrison's <em>wife</em> by that class, it behooves me to be
            very circumspect in all things, when called upon to
            fill so important a station."

         </p>
         <p>
            The marriage occurred September 4, 1834, and the
            next day the pair set up housekeeping in "Freedom's
            Cottage," on Bower street, Roxbury. The young
            housekeepers were rich in every good thing except
            money; and of that commodity there was precious
            little that found its way into the family till. And
            money was indispensable even to a philanthropist,
            who cared as little for it as did Garrison. He had
            never in his twenty-eight years experienced the sensation
            which a bank account, however small, gives its
            possessor. He had been toiling during the last three
            years in a state of chronic self-forgetfulness, and of
            consequence in a state of chronic inpecuniosity. He
            had never been careful of what he got&#8212;was careful
            only of what he gave. For himself he was ready to
            subsist on bread and water and to labor more than
            fourteen hours at the case to make the issue of the
            <i>Liberator</i> possible. But surely he could not
            put "a fair ladye" on such limited commons even for the sake of
            his cause. The laborer is worthy of his hire, and an
            unworldly minded reformer ought to be supplied with
            the wherewithal needful to feed, clothe, and house
            himself and those dependent upon him. Some such
            thought shaped itself in Garrison's mind as his circumstances
            grew more and more straitened, and his
            future as the head of a family looked more and more
            ominous. Anxiety for the morrow pressed heavily
            upon him as his responsibilities as a breadwinner
            hugged closer and closer his everyday life. Poverty
            ceased to be the ordinary enemy of former years,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_197" id="P_197" title="P_197"></a>
            whom he from the lookouts of the unconquerable
            mind used to laugh to scorn; it had become instead
            a cruel foe who worried as by fire the peace of his
            soul.

         </p>
         <p>
            There was the <i>Liberator</i>? The
            <i>Liberator</i> as a
            moral engine was a marvelous success; but the
            <i>Liberator</i> as a money-maker was a most dismal
            failure. If its owners had possessed only common aptitude
            for business the failure need not have been so
            complete, indeed the enterprise might have been
            crowned with a moderate degree of success. But
            never were two men more entirely lacking in the
            methods, which should enter into ventures of that
            character, than were Garrison and Knapp. Garrison
            was unfortunate in this respect but it seems that
            Knapp was more so. Neither took to book-keeping,
            and neither overcame his serious deficiency in this
            regard. The consequence was that the books kept
            themselves, and confusion grew upon confusion until
            the partners were quite confounded. Garrison na&iuml;vely
            confesses this fault of the firm to his brother-in-law
            thus: "Brother Knapp, you know, resembles me
            very closely in his habits of procrastination. Indeed
            I think he is rather worse than I am in this respect!"

         </p>
         <p>
            The paper was issued originally without a single
            subscriber. At the end of the first volume the subscription
            list numbered five hundred names. In the
            course of the next two volumes this number was
            more than doubled, almost tripled, in fact. The subscription
            price was two dollars. The property would
            have begun from this point to make returns to its
            owners had they possessed the business training and
            instinct requisite to its successful management. But
            <a class="newpage" name="P_198" id="P_198" title="P_198"></a>
            they were reformers, not money-getters, and instead
            of enjoying the profits they proceeded to use them
            up incontinently in their first enlargement of the
            paper. But while they had added to the cost of
            publication, they took no thought to augment the
            cost of subscription. The publishers gave more and
            the subscribers received more for the sum of two
            dollars. The pecuniary embarrassments of the
            <i>Liberator</i> increased, and so the partners'
            "bondage to penury" increased also. This growing pressure was
            finally relieved by "several generous donations,"
            made for the support of the paper. At the beginning
            of the fourth volume, the publishers wisely or other-wisely,
            again enlarged their darling, and again neglected
            to raise the subscription rates at the same
            time.

         </p>
         <p>
            Misfortunes never come without company, but alight
            in flocks, and a whole flock of misfortunes it was to
            the <i>Liberator</i> when Joshua Coffin,
            "that huge personification of good humor," was appointed canvassing
            agent for the paper. He was as wanting in
            business methods as his employers were. Confusion
            now gathered upon confusion around the devoted
            heads of the partners, was accelerated and became
            daily more and more portentous and inextricable.
            The delinquencies of subscribers grew more and
            more grave. On the three first volumes they were
            two thousand dollars in arrears to the paper. This
            was a large, a disastrous loss, but traceable, to no
            inconsiderable extent, doubtless, to the loose business
            methods of the reformer and his partner. The
            <i>Liberator</i> at the beginning of its fourth year was
            struggling in a deep hole of financial helplessness
            <a class="newpage" name="P_199" id="P_199" title="P_199"></a>
            and chaos. Would it ever get out alive, or "<b>SHALL
               THE <i>LIBERATOR</i> DIE?</b>" burst in a cry of
            anguish, almost despair, from its editor, so weak in thought of
            self, so supreme in thought of others.

         </p>
         <p>
            This carelessness of what appertained to the things
            which concerned self, and devotion to the things
            which concerned his cause, finds apt and pathetic
            illustration in this letter to Samuel J. May in the summer
            of 1834, when his pecuniary embarrassments and
            burdens were never harder to carry:

         </p>
         <p>
            "In reply to your favor of the 24th [July], my
            partner joins with me in consenting to print an edition
            of Miss Crandall's [defence] as large as the one
            proposed by you, at our own risk. As to the profits
            that may arise from the sale of the pamphlet, we do
            not expect to make any; on the contrary, we shall
            probably suffer some loss, in consequence of the difficulty
            of disposing of any publication, however interesting
            or valuable in itself. But a trial so important
            as Miss C.'s, involving such momentous consequences
            to a large portion of our countrymen, implicating so
            deeply the character of this great nation, ought not to
            go unpublished, and <em>shall</em> not while we have the necessary
            materials for printing it."

         </p>
         <p>
            It is interesting to note that the weekly circulation
            of the <i>Liberator</i>, in the spring of 1834, was
            twenty-three hundred copies, and that this number
            was distributed in Philadelphia, four hundred;
            in New York, three hundred: in Boston,
            two hundred; in other parts of the free States
            eleven hundred; and that of the remaining three hundred,
            one-half was sent as exchange with other papers,
            and eighty of the other half were divided equally
            <a class="newpage" name="P_200" id="P_200" title="P_200"></a>
            between England and Hayti, leaving seventy copies
            for gratuitous distribution. The colored subscribers
            to the paper were to the whites as three to one.

         </p>
         <p>
            There were several suggestions by sundry friends
            looking to the release of the <i>Liberator</i> from its
            embarrassments, and, to the relief of its unselfish
            publishers, from the grinding poverty which its
            issue imposed upon them. The most hopeful
            and feasible of them was the scheme of which
            Garrison wrote his betrothed April 14, 1834: "I
            am happy to say," he pours into her ears, "that it
            is probable the managers of the New England Anti-Slavery
            Society will determine, to-morrow afternoon,
            to take all the pecuniary liabilities of the
            <i>Liberator</i>
            hereafter, and give me a regular salary for editing it,
            and friend Knapp a fair price for printing it. My salary
            will not be less than $800 per annum, and perhaps
            it will be fixed at a $1,000.... The new arrangement
            will go into effect on the 1st of July." But alas; the
            managers took no such action on the morrow, nor
            went the "new arrangement" into effect at the time
            anticipated. The editor was married in September,
            and two months later the eagerly expected relief was
            still delayed. This hope deferred must have caused
            the young husband meanwhile no little anxiety and
            heart sickness.

         </p>
         <p>
            Love in a cottage is very pretty and romantic in
            novels, but love in a cottage actually thriving on
            "bread and water," was a sweet reality in the home
            of the young couple in Roxbury. "All the world loves
            a lover," says Emerson, but alas! there are exceptions
            to all rules, and all the world loved not Garrison in
            his newly found felicity as shall presently appear.

         </p>
         <p><a class="newpage" name="P_201" id="P_201" title="P_201"></a>
            The pledge made by the reformer in the initial number of the
            <i>Liberator</i> to be "as harsh as truth,"
            had been kept to the letter. To some minds there is
            nothing more difficult to understand and tolerate
            than is the use of harsh language toward individual
            wrongdoers. They appear to be much more solicitous
            to turn away the wrath of the wicked than to
            do away with their wickedness. Multitudes of such
            minds were offended at the tremendous severities of
            Garrison's speech. They were for peace at any cost,
            while Garrison was for truth at any cost. These pro-slavery
            critics were not necessarily wanting in good
            feelings to the slaves, or lacking in a sense of the
            justice of their cause. But the feelings and the sense
            were transitive to an abstract object, intransitive to
            that terrible reality, the American slave. The indignation
            of such people exceeded all bounds when contemplating
            wrongs in the abstract, iniquity in the
            abstract, while the genuine article in flesh and blood
            and habited in broadcloth and respectability provoked
            no indignation, provoked instead unbounded charity
            for the willing victims of ancestral transgressions.
            Upon the Southern slaveholder, as a creature of circumstances,
            these people expended all their sympathy
            while upon the Southern slave, who were to their
            view <em>the circumstances</em>, they looked with increasing
            disapprobation. Garrison's harsh language greatly
            shocked this class&#8212;excited their unbounded indignation
            against the reformer.

         </p>
         <p>
            Besides this class there was another, composed of
            friends, whom Garrison's denunciatory style offended.
            To Charles Pollen and Charles Stuart, and Lewis
            Tappan, this characteristic of the writings of the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_202" id="P_202" title="P_202"></a>
            great agitator was a sore trial. To them and to
            others, too, his language seemed grossly intemperate
            and vituperative, and was deemed productive of
            harm to the movement. But Garrison defended his
            harsh language by pointing to the state of the country
            on the subject of slavery before he began to use
            it, and to the state of the country afterward. How
            utterly and morally dead the nation was before, how
            keenly and marvelously alive it became afterward.
            The blast which he had blown had jarred upon the
            senses of his slumbering countrymen he admitted,
            but he should not be blamed for that. What to his
            critics sounded harsh and abusive, was to him the
            trump of God. For, at the thunder-peal which the
            Almighty blew from the mouth of his servant, how,
            as by a miracle, the dead soul of the nation awoke to
            righteousness. He does not arrogate to himself infallibility,
            indeed he is sure that his language is not
            always happily chosen. Such errors, however, appear
            to him trivial, in view of indisputable and extraordinary
            results produced by the <i>Liberator</i>. He believes
            in marrying masculine truths to masculine words.
            He protests against his condemnation by comparison.
            "Every writer's style is his own&#8212;it may be
            smooth or rough, plain or obscure, simple or grand,
            feeble or strong," he contends, "but <em>principles</em> are immutable."
            By his principles, therefore he would, be
            judged. "Whittier, for instance," he continues, "is
            highly poetical, exuberant, and beautiful. Stuart is
            solemn, pungent, and severe. Wright is a thorough
            logician, dextrous, transparent, straightforward.
            Beriah Green is manly, eloquent, vigorous, devotional.
            May is persuasive, zealous, overflowing with the milk
            <a class="newpage" name="P_203" id="P_203" title="P_203"></a>
            of human kindness. Cox is diffusive, sanguine, magnificent,
            grand. Bourne thunders and lightens.
            Phelps is one great, clear, infallible argument&#8212;demonstration
            itself. Jocelyn is full of heavenly-mindedness,
            and feels and speaks and acts with a
            zeal according to knowledge. Follen is chaste, profound,
            and elaborately polished. Goodell is perceptive,
            analytical, expert, and solid. Child (David
            L.) is generously indignant, courageous, and demonstrative;
            his lady combines strength with beauty,
            argumentation with persuasiveness, greatness with
            humility. Birney is collected, courteous, dispassionate&#8212;his
            fearlessness excites admiration, his conscientiousness
            commands respect." Of these writers,
            which is acceptable to slaveholders or their apologists?
            Some have been cruelly treated and all been
            calumniated as "fanatics, disorganizers, and madmen."
            And why? "Certainly not for the <em>phraseology</em>
            which they use, but for the <em>principles</em> which they
            adopt."

         </p>
         <p>
            From another quarter came presently notes of discord,
            aroused by Garrison's <em>hard language</em>. Sundry
            of the Unitarian clergy, under the lead of Rev. Henry
            Ware, Jr., took it into their heads that the editor of
            the <i>Liberator</i> and some others were outrageously
            abusing the Abolition cause, "mismanaging it by
            their unreasonable violence" of language. Wherefore
            those gentlemen interposed to rescue the great
            cause from harm by a brilliant scheme designed to
            secure moderation in this regard. This brilliant
            scheme was nothing less absurd than the establishment
            of a censorship over the <i>Liberator</i>. But as
            these solicitous souls had reckoned without their
            <a class="newpage" name="P_204" id="P_204" title="P_204"></a>
            host, their amiable plan came to naught; but not,
            however, before adding a new element to the universal
            discord then fast swelling to a roar. To the
            storm of censure gathering about his head the reformer
            bowed not&#8212;neither swerved he to the right
            hand nor to the left&#8212;all the while deeming it, "with
            the apostle, a small thing to be judged by man's
            judgment." "I solicit no man's praise," he sternly
            replies to his critics, "I fear no men's censure."

         </p>
         <p>
            There was still another cause of offence given by
            Garrison to his countrymen. It was not his <em>hard language</em>,
            but a circumstance less tolerable, if that was
            possible, than even that rock of offence. It seems
            that when the editor of the <i>Liberator</i> was in
            England, and dining with Thomas Powell Buxton, he was asked
            by the latter in what way the English Abolitionists
            could best assist the anti-slavery movement in America,
            and he had replied, "<em>By giving us George Thompson</em>."
            This unexpected answer of the American
            appeared without doubt to the Englishman at the
            time somewhat extraordinary. He had his misgivings
            as to the wisdom, to say nothing of the propriety, of
            an international act of such importance and delicacy
            as the sending of George Thompson to America. He
            questioned whether the national self-love of the
            American people would not resent the arrival of an
            Englishman on such a mission among them and
            refuse him a fair hearing in consequence. But Garrison
            was confident that while Thompson's advent
            would stir up the pro-slavery bile of the North and
            all that, he would not be put to much if any greater
            disadvantage as a foreigner in speaking in New England
            on the subject of slavery, than were those Abolitionists
            <a class="newpage" name="P_205" id="P_205" title="P_205"></a>
            who were to the manner born. As to his
            friend's personal safety in the East, Garrison was
            extremely optimistic, had not apparently the slightest
            apprehensions for him in this regard.

         </p>
         <p>
            Well, after due deliberation, George Thompson consented
            to undertake the mission to America, and the
            English reformers to send him, though not all of them.
            For some there were like James Cropper, who were
            indisposed to promoting such a mission, or "paying
            agents to travel in the United States." It was natural
            enough for Mr. Garrison to prefer such a request
            after hearing George Thompson speak. For he was
            one of those electric speakers, who do with popular
            audiences what they will. In figure and voice and
            action, he was a born orator. His eloquence was
            graphic, picturesque, thrilling, and over English
            audiences it was irresistible. Garrison fancied that
            such eloquence would prove equally attractive to and
            irresistible over American audiences as well. But in
            this he was somewhat mistaken, for Thompson had
            to deal with an element in American audiences of
            which he had had no experience in England. What
            that element was he had occasion to surmise directly
            he arrived upon these shores. He reached New
            York just sixteen days after the marriage of his
            friend, the editor of the <i>Liberator</i> to be
            immediately threatened with mob violence by the metropolitan
            press in case he ventured to "lecture in favor of
            immediate Abolition," and to be warned that: "If our
            people will not suffer our own citizens to tamper with
            the question of slavery, it is not to be supposed that
            they will tolerate the officious intermeddling of a
            foreign fanatic." Then as if by way of giving him
            <a class="newpage" name="P_206" id="P_206" title="P_206"></a>
            a taste of the beak and talons of the American <i>amour
               propre</i>, he and his family were put out of the Atlantic
            Hotel in deference to the wish of an irate Southerner.
            Thus introduced the English orator advanced speedily
            thereafter into closer acquaintance with the American
            public. He lectured in many parts of New
            England where that new element of rowdyism and
            virulence of which his English audiences had given
            him no previous experience, manifested its presence
            first in one way and then in others, putting him
            again and again in jeopardy of life and limb. At
            Augusta, Maine, his windows were broken, and he
            was warned out of the town. At Concord, New
            Hampshire, his speech was punctuated with missiles.
            At Lowell, Massachusetts, he narrowly escaped being
            struck on the head and killed by a brickbat. Indeed
            it was grimly apparent that the master of Freedom's
            Cottage would be obliged to revise his views as to the
            hazard, which his friend ran in speaking upon the
            subject of slavery in New England. To do so was
            weekly becoming for that friend an enterprise of
            great personal peril. But it added also to the fierce
            hatred with which the public now regarded Garrison.
            He was the author of all the mischief, the slavery
            agitation, the foreign emissary. He had even dared to
            inject the poison of Abolitionism into the politics of
            Boston and Massachusetts. This attempt on the part
            of the <i>Liberator</i> to establish an anti-slavery
            test of office was only another proof of the dangerous character
            of the new fanaticism and the Jacobinical
            designs of the Garrisonian fanatics, ergo, the importance
            of suppressing the incendiaries. Down with
            Thompson! Garrison must be destroyed! The
            <a class="newpage" name="P_207" id="P_207" title="P_207"></a>
            Union&#8212;it must and shall be preserved! All these
            the public excitement, which had risen everywhere
            to a tempest, had come more and more to mean. A
            tremendous crisis had come in the life of Garrison,
            and a great peril, eagle-like, with the stirred-up hate
            of a nation, was swooping upon him.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_208" id="P_208" title="P_208"></a></p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap11"></a>
            CHAPTER XI.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            MISCHIEF LET LOOSE.

         </h2>
         <p>
            A wild-cat-like creature was abroad. To it the
            Abolitionists were to be thrown. It was to destroy
            Garrison, make an end of Thompson, and suppress
            between its enormous jaws the grandest moral movement
            of the century. Besides doing up this modest
            little programme, the beast, O wonderful to say, was
            also to crown its performances by "saving" the
            Union. Rejoicing in the possession of such a conservative
            institution, the politicians, the press, and
            public opinion uncaged the monster, while from
            secure seats they watched the frightful scenes of fury
            and destruction enacted by it in the national arena.

         </p>
         <p>
            These scenes began in the summer of 1834, and in
            the city of New York. They were ushered in by the
            breaking up of an anti-slavery celebration on the
            Fourth of July by the clack and roar of several hundred
            young rowdies, gathered for the purpose. Their
            success but whetted the appetite of the spirit of mischief
            for other ventures against the Abolitionists. As
            a consequence New York was in a more or less disturbed
            state from the fourth to the ninth of the
            month. The press of the city, with but a single exception
            (<i>The Evening Post</i>) meanwhile goaded the
            populace on by false and inflammatory representations
            touching the negroes and their friends, to the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_209" id="P_209" title="P_209"></a>
            rioting which began in earnest on the evening of the
            ninth. That night a mob attacked Lewis Tappan's
            house on Rose street, breaking in the door, smashing
            blinds and windows, and playing havoc generally
            with the furniture. On the following evening the
            rioters assailed the store of Arthur Tappan, on Pearl
            street, demolishing almost every pane of glass in the
            front of the building. On the same evening the mob
            paid its respects to Rev. Dr. Cox, by breaking windows
            both at his house and at his church. The negro
            quarters in the neighborhood of Five Points, and
            their houses in other parts of the city, were raided on
            the night of the 11th, and much damage done by the
            lawless hordes which for nearly a week wreaked their
            wrath upon the property of the negroes and their
            anti-slavery friends.

         </p>
         <p>
            After this brave beginning, the wild-cat-like spirit
            continued, these ferocious demonstrations in New
            Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, Connecticut,
            Maine, and New Hampshire. The slavery agitation
            had increased apace. It had broken out in Congress
            on the presentation of anti-slavery petitions. The
            fire thus kindled spread through the country. Southern
            excitement became intense, amounted almost to
            panic. The activity of the anti-slavery press, the
            stream of anti-slavery publications, which had, indeed,
            increased with singular rapidity, was exaggerated
            by the Southern imagination, struck it with a
            sort of terror. There were meetings held in many
            parts of the South, tremendous scenes enacted there.
            In Charleston, South Carolina, the post-office was
            broken open by an aristocratic mob, under the lead
            of the famous Robert Y. Hayne, and a bonfire made
            <a class="newpage" name="P_210" id="P_210" title="P_210"></a>
            of the Abolition mail-matter which it contained. As
            this Southern excitement advanced, a passionate fear
            for the stability of the Union arose in the heart of
            the North. Abolition and the Abolitionists had produced
            these sectional disturbances. Abolition and
            the Abolitionists were, therefore, enemies of the
            "glorious Union." Northern excitement kept pace
            with Southern excitement until, in the summer of
            1835, a reign of terror was widely established over
            both sections. To Garrison, from his <i>Liberator</i>
            outlook, all seemed "Consternation and perplexity, for
            perilous times have come." They had, indeed, come
            in New York, as witness this from the pen of Lydia
            Maria Child, who was at the time (August 15) in
            Brooklyn. Says she:

         </p>
         <blockquote>
            <p>
               "I have not ventured into the city, nor does one of
               us dare to go to church to-day, so great is the excitement
               here. You can form no conception of it. 'Tis
               like the time of the French Revolution, when no man
               dared trust his neighbor. Private assassins from
               New Orleans are lurking at the corners of the streets
               to stab Arthur Tappan, and very large sums are
               offered for any one who will convey Mr. Thompson
               into the slave States.... There are several
               thousand Southerners now in the city, and I am
               afraid there are not seven hundred among them who
               have the slightest fear of God before their eyes. Mr.
               Wright [Elizur] was yesterday barricading his doors
               and windows with strong bars and planks an inch
               thick. Violence in some form seems to be generally
               expected."

            </p>
         </blockquote>
         <p>
            Great meetings to put the Abolitionists down afforded
            vents during this memorable year to the pent-up
            <a class="newpage" name="P_211" id="P_211" title="P_211"></a>
            excitement of the free States. New York had had
            its great meeting, and had put the Abolitionists down
            with pro-slavery resolutions and torrents of pro-slavery
            eloquence. Boston, too, had to have her
            great meeting and her cataracts of pro-slavery oratory
            to reassure the South of the sympathy and support
            of "the great body of the people of the Northern
            States." The toils seemed everywhere closing around
            the Abolitionists. The huge head of the asp of public
            opinion, the press of the land was everywhere busy,
            day and night, smearing with a thick and virulent
            saliva of lies the brave little band and its leader.
            Anti-slavery publications, calculated to inflame the
            minds of the slaves against their masters, and intended
            to instigate the slaves to servile insurrections,
            had been distributed broadcast through the South by
            the emissaries of anti-slavery societies. The Abolitionists
            advocated the emancipation of the slaves in the
            South by Congress, intermarriages between the two
            races, the dissolution of the Union, etc. All of which
            outrageous misrepresentations were designed to render
            the movement utterly odious to the public, and
            the public so much the more furious for its suppression.

         </p>
         <p>
            It was in the midst of such intense and widespread
            excitement that Boston called its meeting to abolish
            the Abolitionists. It was the month of August, and
            the heat of men's passions was as great as the heat
            of the August sun. The moral atmosphere of the
            city was so charged with inflammable gases that the
            slightest spark would have sufficed to produce an explosion.
            The Abolitionists felt this and carried themselves
            the while with unusual circumspection. They
            <a class="newpage" name="P_212" id="P_212" title="P_212"></a>
            deemed it prudent to publish an address to neutralize
            the falsehoods with which they were assailed by their
            enemies. The address drawn up by Garrison for the
            purpose was thought "too fiery for the present time,"
            by his more cautious followers and was rejected. The
            <i>Liberator</i> office had already been threatened in
            consequence of a fiery article by the editor, denouncing the
            use of Faneuil Hall for the approaching pro-slavery
            meeting. It seemed to the unawed and indignant
            champion of liberty that it were "better that the
            winds should scatter it in fragments over the whole
            earth&#8212;better that an earthquake should engulf it&#8212;than
            that it should be used for so unhallowed and
            detestable a purpose!" The anti-abolition feeling of
            the town had become so bitter and intense that Henry
            E. Benson, then clerk in the anti-slavery office, writing
            on the 19th of the month, believed that there were
            persons in Boston, who would assassinate George
            Thompson in broad daylight, and doubted whether
            Garrison or Samuel J. May would be safe in Faneuil
            Hall on the day of the meeting, and what seemed
            still more significant of the inflamed state of the public
            mind, was the confidence with which he predicted
            that a mob would follow the meeting. The wild-cat-like
            spirit was in the air&#8212;in the seething heart of the
            populace.

         </p>
         <p>
            The meeting was held August 21st, in the old cradle
            of liberty. To its call alone fifteen hundred names
            were appended. It was a Boston audience both as to
            character and numbers, an altogether imposing affair,
            over whom the mayor of the city presided and before
            whom two of the most consummate orators of the
            commonwealth fulmined against the Abolitionists.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_213" id="P_213" title="P_213"></a>
            One of their hearers, a young attorney of twenty-four,
            who listened to Peleg Sprague and Harrison Gray Otis
            that day, described sixteen years afterward the latter
            and the effects produced by him on that audience.
            Our young attorney vividly recalled how "'Abolitionist'
            was linked with contempt, in the silver tones of
            Otis, and all the charms that a divine eloquence and
            most felicitous diction could throw around a bad
            cause were given it; the excited multitude seemed
            actually ready to leap up beneath the magic of his
            speech. It would be something, if one must die, to
            die by such a hand&#8212;a hand somewhat worthy and
            able to stifle anti-slavery, if it could be stifled. The
            orator was worthy of the gigantic task attempted;
            and thousands crowded before him, every one of their
            hearts melted by that eloquence, beneath which Massachusetts
            had bowed, not unworthily, for more than
            thirty years."

         </p>
         <p>
            Here is a specimen of the sort of goading which
            the wild-cat-like spirit of the city got from the orators.
            It is taken from the speech of Peleg Sprague.
            The orator is paying his respects to George Thompson,
            "an avowed <em>emissary</em>" "<em>a professed agitator</em>,"
            who "comes here from the dark and corrupt institutions
            of Europe to enlighten <em>us</em> upon the rights of
            man and the moral duties of our own condition.
            Received by our hospitality, he stands here upon our
            soil, protected by our laws, and hurls firebrands, arrows,
            and death into the habitations of our neighbors
            and friends, and brothers; and when he shall have
            kindled a conflagration which is sweeping in desolation
            over our land, he has only to embark for his own
            country, and there look serenely back with indifference
            <a class="newpage" name="P_214" id="P_214" title="P_214"></a>
            or exultation upon the widespread ruin by which
            <em>our</em> cities are wrapt in flames, and <em>our</em> garments
            rolled in blood."

         </p>
         <p>
            The great meeting was soon a thing of the past but
            not so its effects. The echoes of Otis and Sprague did
            not cease at its close. They thrilled in the air,
            they thrilled long afterward in the blood of the people.
            When the multitude dispersed Mischief went out into
            the streets of the city with them. Wherever afterward
            they gathered Mischief made one in their midst.
            Mischief was let loose, Mischief was afoot in the town.
            The old town was no place for the foreign emissary,
            neither was it a safe place for the arch-agitator. On
            the day after the meeting, Garrison and his young
            wife accordingly retreated to her father's home at
            Brooklyn, Conn., where the husband needed not to be
            jostling elbows with Mistress Mischief, and her <em>pals</em>.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison's answer to the speeches of Otis and
            Sprague was in his sternest vein. He is sure after
            reading them that, "there is more guilt attaching to
            the people of the free States from the continuance of
            slavery, than those in the slave States." At least he
            is ready to affirm upon the authority of Orator
            Sprague, "that New England is as really a slave-holding
            section of the republic as Georgia or South
            Carolina." Sprague, he finds, "in amicable companionship
            and popular repute with thieves and adulterers;
            with slaveholders, slavedealers, and slave-destroyers; ... with
            the disturbers of the public
            peace; with the robbers of the public mail; with
            ruffians who insult, pollute, and lacerate helpless
            women; and with conspirators against the lives and
            liberties of New England citizens."

         </p>
         <p><a class="newpage" name="P_215" id="P_215" title="P_215"></a>
            To Otis who was then nearly seventy years of age
            Garrison addressed his rebuke in tones of singular
            solemnity. It seemed to him that the aged statesman
            had transgressed against liberty "under circumstances
            of peculiar criminality." "Yet at this solemn
            period," the reprobation of the prophet ran, "you
            have not scrupled, nay, you have been ambitious, to
            lead and address an excited multitude, in vindication
            of all imaginable wickedness, embodied in one great
            system of crime and blood&#8212;to pander to the lusts and
            desires of the robbers of God and his poor&#8212;to consign
            over to the tender mercies of cruel taskmasters,
            multitudes of guiltless men, women, and children&#8212;and
            to denounce as an 'unlawful and dangerous association'
            a society whose only object is to bring this
            nation to repentance, through the truth as it is in
            Jesus."

         </p>
         <p>
            These audacious and iconoclastic performances of
            the reformer were not exactly adapted to turn from
            him the wrath of the idol worshipers. They more
            likely added fuel to the hot anger burning in Boston
            against him. Three weeks passed after his departure
            from the city, and his friends did not deem it safe
            for him to return. Toward the end of the fourth
            week of his enforced absence, against which he was
            chafing not a little, an incident happened in Boston
            which warned him to let patience have its perfect
            work. It was on the night of September 17th that the
            dispositions of the city toward him found grim expression
            in a gallows erected in front of his house at
            23 Brighton street. This ghastly reminder that the fellow-citizens of the
            editor of the <i>Liberator</i> continued
            to take a lively interest in him, "was made in real
            <a class="newpage" name="P_216" id="P_216" title="P_216"></a>
            workmanship style, of <i>maple joist</i> five inches through,
            eight or nine feet high, for the accommodation of
            two persons." Garrison and Thompson were the two
            persons for whom these brave accommodations were
            prepared. But as neither they nor their friends were
            in a mood to have trial made of them, the intended
            occupants consented to give Boston a wide berth, and
            to be somewhat particular that they did not turn in
            with her while the homicidal fit lasted.

         </p>
         <p>
            This editing his paper at long range, and this
            thought of life and safety Garrison did not at all relish.
            They grew more and more irksome to his fearless
            and earnest spirit. For his was a "pine-and-fagot"
            Abolitionism that knew not the fear of men or their
            wrath. But now he must needs have a care for the
            peace of mind of his young wife, who was, within a
            few months, to give birth to a child. And her anxiety
            for him was very great. Neither was the anxiety of
            devoted friends and followers to be lightly disregarded.
            All of which detained the leader in Brooklyn
            until the 25th of the month, when the danger
            signals seemed to have disappeared. Whereupon he
            set out immediately for his post in Boston to be at the
            head of his forces. He found the city in one of those
            strange pauses of popular excitement, which might
            signify the ebb of the tide or only the retreat of the
            billows. He was not inclined to let the anti-Abolition
            agitation subside so soon, before it had carried on its
            flood Abolition principles to wider fields and more
            abundant harvests in the republic. Anxious lest the
            cat-like temper of the populace was falling into
            indifference and apathy, he and his disciples took
            occasion to prod it into renewed wakefulness and
            <a class="newpage" name="P_217" id="P_217" title="P_217"></a>
            activity. The instruments used for this purpose were anti-slavery meetings and
            the sharp goad of his <i>Liberator</i>
            editorials. The city was possessed with the
            demon of slavery, and its foaming at the mouth was
            the best of all signs that the Abolition exorcism was
            working effectively. So, in between the glittering
            teeth and the terrible paws was thrust the maddening
            goad, and up sprang the mighty beast horrible to
            behold.

         </p>
         <p>
            One of these meetings was the anniversary of the
            formation of the Boston Female Anti-Slavery Society
            which fell on October 14th. The ladies issued their
            notice, engaged a hall, and invited George Thompson
            to address them. Now the foreign emissary was
            particularly exasperating to Boston sensibility on
            the subject of slavery. He was the veritable red
            rag to the pro-slavery bull. The public announcement,
            therefore, that he was to speak in the city
            threw the public mind into violent agitation. The
            <i>Gazette</i> and the
            <i>Courier</i> augmented the excitement
            by the recklessness with which they denounced the
            proposed meeting, the former promising to Thompson
            a lynching, while the latter endeavored to
            involve his associates who were to the "manner
            born" in the popular outbreak, which was confidently
            predicted in case the "foreign vagrant"
            wagged his tongue at the time appointed.

         </p>
         <p>
            Notwithstanding the rage of press and people
            the meeting was postponed through no willingness
            on the part of the ladies, but because of the panic
            of the owners of the hall lest their property should
            be damaged or destroyed in case of a riot. The
            ladies, thereupon, appointed three o'clock in the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_218" id="P_218" title="P_218"></a>
            afternoon of October 21st as the time, and the hall
            adjoining the Anti-Slavery Office, at 46 Washington
            street, as the place where they would hold their
            adjourned meeting. This time they made no mention
            of Mr. Thompson's addressing them, merely
            announcing several addresses. In fact, an address
            from Mr. Thompson, in view of the squally outlook,
            was not deemed expedient. To provide against
            accidents and disasters, he left the city on the day
            before the meeting. But this his enemies did not
            know. They confidently expected that he was to
            be one of the speakers. An inflammatory handbill
            distributed on the streets at noon of the 21st seemed
            to leave no doubt of this circumstance in the pro-slavery
            portion of the city.

         </p>
         <p>
            The handbill referred to ran as follows:

         </p>
         <blockquote>
            <p>
               THOMPSON,

            </p>
            <p>
               THE ABOLITIONIST!

            </p>
            <p>
               That infamous foreign scoundrel, <b>THOMPSON</b>, will hold
               forth <em>this afternoon</em> at the
               <i>Liberator</i> office. No. 48 Washington
               street. The present is a fair opportunity for the friends of
               the Union to <em>snake Thompson out</em>! It will be a contest between
               the Abolitionists and the friends of the Union. A
               purse of $100 has been raised by a number of patriotic citizens
               to reward the individual who shall first lay violent hands on
               Thompson, so that he may be brought to the tar-kettle before
               dark. Friends of the Union, be vigilant!

            </p>
            <p><i>Boston, Wednesday, 12 o'clock.</i></p>
         </blockquote>
         <p>
            That Wednesday forenoon Garrison spent at the
            anti-slavery office, little dreaming of the peril which
            was to overtake him in that very spot in the afternoon.
            He went home to an early dinner, since his
            wife was a member of the society, and he himself was
            <a class="newpage" name="P_219" id="P_219" title="P_219"></a>
            set down for an address. As he wended his way
            homeward, Mischief and her gang were afoot distributing
            the aforesaid handbills "in the insurance
            offices, the reading-rooms, all along State street, in
            the hotels, bar-rooms, etc.," and scattering it
            "among mechanics at the North End, who were
            mightily taken with it." Garrison returned about a
            half hour before the time appointed for the meeting.
            He found a small crowd of about a hundred individuals
            collected in front of the building where the
            hall was situated, and on ascending to the hall more
            of the same sort, mostly young men, choking the
            access to it. They were noisy, and Garrison pushed
            his way through them with difficulty. As he entered
            the place of meeting and took his seat among the
            ladies, twenty had already arrived, the gang of young
            rowdies recognized him and evinced this by the
            exclamation: "That's Garrison!" The full significance
            of the crowd just without the hall did not seem
            to have occurred to the man whom they had identified.
            He did not know that they were the foam
            blown from the mouth of a great mob at the moment
            filling the streets in the neighborhood of the building
            where he sat with such serenity of spirit. His
            wife who had followed him from their home saw
            what Garrison did not see. The crowd of a hundred
            had swelled to thousands. It lay in a huge irregular
            cross, jammed in between the buildings on Washington
            street, the head lowering in front of the anti-slavery
            office, the foot reaching to the site where
            stood Joy building, now occupied by the Rogers,
            the right arm stretching along Court street to the
            Court House, and the left encircling the old State
            <a class="newpage" name="P_220" id="P_220" title="P_220"></a>
            House, City Hall and Post-office then, in a gigantic
            embrace. All hope of urging her way through that
            dense mass was abandoned by Mrs. Garrison, and a
            friend, Mr. John E. Fuller, escorted her to his home,
            where she passed the night.

         </p>
         <p>
            Meantime the atmosphere upstairs at the hall began
            to betoken a fast approaching storm. The
            noises ominously increased on the landing just outside.
            The door of the hall was swung wide open and
            the entrance filled with rioters. Garrison, all unconscious
            of danger, walked over to these persons and
            remonstrated in his grave way with them in regard
            to the disturbance which they were producing, winding
            up with a characteristic bit of pleasantry: "Gentlemen,"
            said he, "perhaps you are not aware that this
            is a meeting of the Boston <em>Female</em> Anti-Slavery
            Society, called and intended exclusively for <em>ladies</em>,
            and those only who have been invited to address
            them. Understanding this fact you will not be so
            rude and indecorous as to thrust your presence upon
            this meeting." But he added, "If, <em>gentlemen</em>, any of
            you are <em>ladies</em> in disguise&#8212;why only apprise me of the
            fact, give me your names, and I will introduce you
            to the rest of your sex, and you can take seats among
            them accordingly." The power of benignity over
            malignity lasted a few moments after this little
            speech, when the situation changed rapidly from bad
            to worse. "The tumult continually increased," says
            an eye-witness, "with horrible execrations, howling,
            stamping, and finally shrieking with rage. They
            seemed not to dare to enter, notwithstanding their
            fury, but mounted on each other's shoulders, so that
            a row of hostile heads appeared over the slight partition,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_221" id="P_221" title="P_221"></a>
            of half the height of the wall which divides
            the society's rooms from the landing place. We
            requested them to allow the door to be shut; but
            they could not decide as to whether the request
            should be granted, and the door was opened and
            shut with violence, till it hung useless from its
            hinges."

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison thinking that his absence might quiet
            these perturbed spirits and so enable the ladies to
            hold their meeting without further molestation volunteered
            at this juncture to the president of the society
            to retire from the hall unless she desired him to
            remain. She did not wish him to stay but urged him
            to go at once not only for the peace of the meeting
            but for his own safety. Garrison thereupon left the
            hall meaning at the time to leave the building as well,
            but egress by the way of the landing and the stairs,
            he directly perceived was impossible, and did what
            seemed the next best thing, entered the anti-slavery
            office, separated from the hall by a board partition.
            Charles C. Burleigh accompanied him within this
            retreat. The door between the hall and the office was
            securely locked, and Garrison with that marvelous
            serenity of mind, which was a part of him, busied
            himself immediately with writing to a friend an
            account of the scenes which were enacting in the next
            room.

         </p>
         <p>
            The tempest had begun in the streets also. The
            mob from its five thousand throats were howling
            "Thompson! Thompson!" The mayor of the city,
            Theodore Lyman, appeared upon the scene, and
            announced to the gentlemen of property and standing,
            who were thus exercising their vocal organs, that
            <a class="newpage" name="P_222" id="P_222" title="P_222"></a>
            Mr. Thompson was not at the meeting, was not in the
            city. But the mayor was a modern Canute before the
            sea of human passion, which was rushing in over law
            and authority. He besought the rioters to disperse,
            but he might as well have besought the waves breaking
            on Nastasket Beach to disperse. Higher, higher
            rose the voices; fiercer, fiercer waxed the multitude;
            more and more frightful became the uproar. The
            long-pent-up excitement of the city and its hatred of
            Abolitionists had broken loose at last and the deluge
            had come. The mayor tossed upon the human inundation
            as a twig on a mountain stream, and with him
            for the nonce struggled helplessly the police power of
            the town also.

         </p>
         <p>
            Upstairs in the hall the society and its president
            are quite as powerless as the mayor and the police
            below. Miss Mary S. Parker, the president, is struggling
            with the customary opening exercises. She has
            called the meeting to order, read to the ladies some
            passages from the Bible, and has lifted up her voice
            in prayer to the All Wise and Merciful One "for direction
            and succor, and the forgiveness of enemies and
            revilers." It is a wonderful scene, a marvelous
            example of Christian heroism, for in the midst of the
            hisses and threats and curses of the rioters, the prayer
            of the brave woman rose clear and untremulous. But
            now the rioters have thrown themselves against the
            partition between the landing-place and the hall.
            They are trying to break it down; now, they have
            partially succeeded. In another moment they have
            thrown themselves against the door of the office
            where Garrison is locked. The lower panel is dashed
            in. Through the opening they have caught sight of
            <a class="newpage" name="P_223" id="P_223" title="P_223"></a>
            their object, Garrison, serenely writing at his desk.
            "There he is! That's Garrison! Out with the
            scoundrel!" and other such words of recognition and
            execration, burst from one and another of the mob.
            The shattering of the partition, the noise of splitting
            and ripping boards, the sharp crash caused by the
            shivering of the office door, the loud and angry outcries
            of the rioters warn the serene occupant of the
            office that his position has become one of extreme
            peril. But he does not become excited. His composure
            does not forsake him. Instead of attempting to
            escape, he simply turns to his friend, Burleigh, with
            the words, "You may as well open the door, and let
            them come in and do their worst." But fortunately,
            Burleigh was in no such extremely non-resistant
            mood.

         </p>
         <p>
            The advent of the mayor and the constables upon
            the scene at this point rescued Garrison from immediately
            falling into the hands of the mob, who were
            cleared out of the hall and from the stairway. Now the
            voice of the mayor was heard urging the ladies to go
            home as it was dangerous to remain; and now the voice
            of Maria Weston Chapman, replying: "If this is
            the last bulwark of freedom, we may as well die here
            as anywhere." The ladies finally decided to retire,
            and their exit diverted, while the operation lasted, the
            attention of the huge, cat-like creature from their
            object in the anti-slavery office. When the passing
            of the ladies had ceased, the old fury of the mob
            against Garrison returned. "Out with him!" "Lynch
            him!" rose in wild uproar from thousands in the
            streets. But again the attention of the huge, cat-like
            creature was diverted from its object in the second
            <a class="newpage" name="P_224" id="P_224" title="P_224"></a>
            story of the building before which it was lashing
            itself into frenzy. This time it was the anti-slavery
            sign which hung from the rooms of the society over
            the sidewalk. The mob had caught sight of it, and
            directly set up a yell for it. The sensation of utter
            helplessness in the presence of the multitude seemed
            at this juncture to return to the chief magistrate of
            the city. It was impossible to control the cataract-like
            passions of the rioters. He heard their awful
            roar for the sign. The din had risen to terrific proportions.
            The thought of what might happen next
            appalled him. The mob might begin to bombard the
            sign with brickbats, and from the sign pass to the
            building, and from the building to the constables,
            and then&#8212;but the mayor glanced not beyond, for he
            had determined to appease the fury of the mob by
            throwing down to it the hateful sign. A constable
            detached it, and hurled it down to the rioters in the
            street. But by the act the mayor had signified that
            the rule of law had collapsed, and the rule of the
            mob had really begun. When the rioters had wreaked
            their wrath upon the emblem of freedom, they were
            in the mood for more violence. The appetite for destruction,
            it was seen, had not been glutted; only
            whetted. Garrison's situation was now extremely
            critical. He could no longer remain where he was,
            for the mob would invade the building and hunt him
            like hounds from cellar to garret. He must leave the
            building without delay. To escape from the front
            was out of the question. A way of escape must,
            therefore, be found in the rear. All of these considerations
            the mayor and Garrison's friends urged
            upon him. The good man fell in with this counsel,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_225" id="P_225" title="P_225"></a>
            and, with a faithful friend, proceeded to the rear of
            the building, where from a window he dropped to a
            shed, but in doing so was very nearly precipitated to
            the ground. After picking himself up he passed into a
            carpenter's shop, meaning to let himself down into
            Wilson's Lane, now Devonshire street, but the
            myriad-eyed mob, which was searching every portion
            of the building for their game, espied him at this
            point, and with that set up a great shout. The workmen
            came to the aid of the fugitive by closing the
            door of the carpenter's shop in the face of his pursuers.
            The situation seemed desperate. Retreat
            from the front was cut off; escape from the rear anticipated
            and foiled. Garrison perceived the futility
            of any further attempts to elude the mob, and proposed
            in his calm way to deliver himself up to them.
            But his faithful Achates, John Reid Campbell, advised
            him that it was his duty to avoid the mob as long as
            it was possible to do so. Garrison thereupon made
            a final effort to get away. He retreated up stairs,
            where his friend and a lad got him into a corner of
            the room and tried to conceal his whereabouts by
            piling some boards in front of him. But, by that
            time, the rioters had entered the building, and within
            a few moments had broken into the room where Garrison
            was in hiding. They found Mr. Reid, and demanded
            of him where Garrison was. But Reid
            firmly refused to tell. They then led him to a window,
            and exhibited him to the mob in the Lane,
            advising them that it was not Garrison, but Garrison's
            and Thompson's friend, who knows where Garrison
            is, but refuses to tell. A shout of fierce exultation
            from below greeted this announcement. Almost
            <a class="newpage" name="P_226" id="P_226" title="P_226"></a>
            immediately afterward, Garrison was discovered and
            dragged furiously to the window, with the intention
            of hurling him thence to the pavement. Some of the
            rioters were for doing this, while others were for
            milder measures. "Don't let us kill him outright!"
            they begged. So his persecutors relented, coiled a
            rope around his body instead, and bade him descend
            to the street. The great man was never greater
            than at that moment. With extraordinary meekness
            and benignity he saluted his enemies in the street.
            From the window he bowed to the multitude who
            were thirsting for his destruction, requesting them
            to wait patiently, for he was coming to them. Then
            he stepped intrepidly down the ladder raised for
            the purpose, and into the seething sea of human
            passion.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison must now have been speedily torn to
            pieces had he not been quickly seized by two or three
            powerful men, who were determined to save him
            from falling into the hands of the mob. They
            were men of great muscular strength, but the muscular
            strength of two or three giants would have proven
            utterly unequal to the rescue, and this Mr. Garrison's
            deliverers evidently appreciated. For while they employed
            their powerful arms, they also employed stratagem
            as well to effect their purpose. They shouted
            anon as they fought their way through the excited
            throng, "He is an American! He shan't be hurt!" and
            other such words which divided the mind of the mob,
            arousing among some sympathy for the good man.
            By this means he was with difficulty got out of Wilson's
            lane into State street, in the rear of the old State
            House. The champion was now on historic ground,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_227" id="P_227" title="P_227"></a>
            ground consecrated by the blood of Crispus Attucks
            and his fellow-martyrs sixty-five years before. His
            hat was lost, much of his clothing was stripped from
            his body, he was without his customary glasses, and
            was therefore practically blind. He could hear the
            awful clamor, the mighty uproar of the mob, but he
            could not distinguish them one from another, friend
            from foe. Nevertheless he "walked with head erect,
            calm countenance flashing eyes like a martyr going
            to the stake, full of faith and manly hope" according
            to the testimony of an eye-witness. Garrison
            himself has thrown light on the state of his mind
            during the ordeal. "The promises of God," he afterward
            remembered, sustained his soul, "so that it was
            not only divested of fear, but ready to sing aloud for
            joy."

         </p>
         <p>
            The news now reached the ears of the mayor that
            Garrison was in the hands of the mob. Thereupon
            the feeble but kindly magistrate began to act afresh
            the role of the twig in the mountain stream. He and
            his constables struggled helplessly in the human current
            rushing and raging around City Hall, the head
            and seat of municipal law and authority. Without
            the aid of private citizens Garrison must inevitably
            have perished in the commotions which presently
            reached their climax in violence and terror. He was
            in the rear of City Hall when the mayor caught up
            to him and his would-be rescuers. The mayor perceived
            the extremity of the situation, and said to the
            Faneuil Hall giants who had hold of Garrison, "Take
            him into my office," which was altogether more easily
            said than done. For the rioters have raised the cry
            "to the Frog Pond with him!" Which order will be
            <a class="newpage" name="P_228" id="P_228" title="P_228"></a>
            carried out, that of the magistrate or that of the mob?

         </p>
         <p>
            These were horrible moments while the two hung
            trembling in the balance. But other private citizens
            coming to the assistance of the mayor struck the
            scales for the moment in his favor, and Garrison was
            finally hustled, and thrust by main force into the
            south door of the City Hall and carried up to the
            mayor's room. But the mob had immediately effected
            an entrance into the building through the north
            door and filled the lower hall. The mayor now
            addressed the pack, strove manfully in his feeble way
            to prevail upon the human wolves to observe order,
            to sustain the law and the honor of the city, he even
            intimated to them that he was ready to lay down his
            life on the spot to maintain the law and preserve
            order. Then he got out on the ledge over the south
            door and spoke in a similar strain to the mob on the
            street. But alas! he knew not the secret for reversing
            the Circean spell by which gentlemen of property
            and standing in the community had been suddenly
            transformed into a wolfish rabble.

         </p>
         <p>
            The increasing tumult without soon warned the
            authorities that what advantage the mayor may have
            obtained in the contest with the mob was only temporary
            and that their position was momentarily becoming
            more perilous and less tenable. It was impossible
            to say to what extreme of violence a multitude
            so infuriated would not go to get their prey. It
            seemed to the now thoroughly alarmed mayor that
            the mob might in their frenzy attack the City Hall
            to effect their purpose. There was one building in
            the city, which the guardians of the law evidently
            agreed could resist the rage of the populace, and
            <a class="newpage" name="P_229" id="P_229" title="P_229"></a>
            that building was the jail. To this last stronghold
            of Puritan civilization the authorities and the powers
            that were, fell back as a dernier resort to save Garrison's
            life. But even in this utmost pitch and extremity,
            when law was trampled in the streets, when
            authority was a reed shaken in a storm, when
            anarchy had drowned order in the bosom of the
            town, the Anglo-Saxon passion for legal forms asserted
            itself. The good man, hunted for his life,
            must forsooth be got into the only refuge which
            promised him security from his pursuers by a regular
            judicial commitment as a disturber of the peace. Is
            there anything at once so pathetic and farcical in the
            Universal history of mobs?

         </p>
         <p>
            Pathetic and farcical to be sure, but it was also
            well meant, and therefore we will not stop to quarrel
            with men who were equal to the perpetration of a legal
            fiction so full of the comedy and tragedy of civilized
            society. But enough&#8212;the municipal wiseacres
            having put their heads together and evolved the brilliant
            plan of committing the prophet as a disturber of
            the peace, immediately set about its execution, which
            developed in the sequence into a bird of altogether
            another color. For a more perilous and desperate
            device to preserve Garrison's life could not well
            have been hit upon. How was he ever to be got
            out of the building and through that sea of ferocious
            faces surging and foaming around it. First then by
            disguising his identity by sundry changes in his
            apparel. He obtained a pair of trousers from one
            kindly soul, another gave him a coat, a third lent him
            a stock, a fourth furnished him a cap. A hack was
            summoned and stationed at the south door, a posse
            <a class="newpage" name="P_230" id="P_230" title="P_230"></a>
            of constables drew up and made an open way from
            the door to it. Another hack was placed in readiness
            at the north door. The hack at the south door was
            only a ruse to throw the mob off the scent of their
            prey, while he was got out of the north door and
            smuggled into the other hack. Up to this point, the
            plan worked well, but the instant after Garrison had
            been smuggled into the hack he was identified by the
            mob, and then ensued a scene which defies description;
            no writer however skillful, may hope to reproduce
            it. The rioters rushed madly upon the vehicle
            with the cry: "Cut the traces! Cut the reins!" They
            flung themselves upon the horses, hung upon the
            wheels, dashed open the doors, the driver the while
            belaboring their heads right and left with a powerful
            whip, which he also laid vigorously on the backs of
            his horses. For a moment it looked as if a catastrophe
            was unavoidable, but the next saw the startled horses
            plunging at break-neck speed with the hack up Court
            street and the mob pursuing it with yells of baffled
            rage. Then began a thrilling, a tremendous race for
            life and Leverett street jail. The vehicle flew along
            Court street to Bodoin square, but the rioters, with
            fell purpose flew hardly less swiftly in its track.
            Indeed the pursuit of the pack was so close that the
            hackman did not dare to drive directly to the jail but
            reached it by a detour through Cambridge and Blossom
            streets. Even then the mob pressed upon the
            heels of the horses as they drew up before the portals
            of the old prison, which shut not an instant too soon upon the editor of the
            <i>Liberator</i>, who was saved from
            a frightful fate to use a Biblical phrase but by the
            skin of his teeth.

         </p>
         <p><a class="newpage" name="P_231" id="P_231" title="P_231"></a>
            Here the reformer safe from the wrath of his foes,
            was locked in a cell; and here, during the evening,
            with no abatement of his customary cheerfulness and
            serenity of spirit, he received several of his anxious
            friends, Whittier among them, whom through the
            grated bars he playfully accosted thus: "You see my
            accommodations are so limited, that I cannot ask you
            to spend the night with me." That night in his
            prison cell, and on his rude prison bed, he slept the
            sleep of the just man, sweet and long:

         </p>
         <div class="lg">"When peace within the bosom reigns,<br>And conscience gives th' approving voice;<br>Though bound the human form in chains.<br>Yet can the soul aloud rejoice.<br><br></div>
         <div class="lg">"'Tis true, my footsteps are confined&#8212;<br>I cannot range beyond this cell&#8212;<br>But what can circumscribe my mind,<br>To chain the winds attempt as well!"<br><br></div>
         <p>
            The above stanzas he wrote the next morning on
            the walls of his cell. Besides this one he made two
            other inscriptions there, to stand as memorabilia of
            the black drama enacted in Boston on the afternoon
            of October 21, 1835.

         </p>
         <p>
            After being put through the solemn farce of an
            examination in a court, extemporized in the jail, Garrison
            was discharged from arrest as a disturber of the
            peace! But the authorities, dreading a repetition of
            the scenes of the day before, prayed him to leave the
            city for a few days, which he did, a deputy sheriff
            driving him to Canton, where he boarded the train
            from Boston to Providence, containing his wife, and
            together they went thence to her father's at Brooklyn,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_232" id="P_232" title="P_232"></a>
            Conn. The apprehensions of the authorities in
            respect of the danger of a fresh attack upon him were
            unquestionably well founded, inasmuch as diligent
            search was made for him in all of the outgoing stages
            and cars from the city that morning.

         </p>
         <p>
            In this wise did pro-slavery, patriotic Boston translate
            into <em>works</em> her sympathy for the South.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_233" id="P_233" title="P_233"></a></p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap12"></a>
            CHAPTER XII.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            FLOTSAM AND JETSAM.

         </h2>
         <p>
            The results of the storm became immediately manifest
            in several ways. Such a commotion did not
            leave things in precisely the state in which they were
            on the morning of the memorable day on which it
            struck the city. The moral landscape and geography
            of the community had sensibly changed at its close.
            The full extent of the alteration wrought could not
            at once be seen, nor was it at once felt. But that
            there were deep and abiding changes made by it in
            the court of public opinion in Boston and Massachusetts
            on the subject of slavery there is little doubt.
            It disgusted and alarmed many individuals who had
            hitherto acted in unison with the social, business, and
            political elements, which were at the bottom of the
            riot. Francis Jackson, for instance, had been one of
            the fifteen hundred signers of the call for the great
            Faneuil Hall meeting of the 21st of August. But on
            the afternoon of the 21st of October he threw his
            house open to the Boston Female Anti-Slavery Society,
            after its meeting had been broken up by the mob.
            It seemed to him then that it was no longer a mere
            struggle for the freedom of the slave, but for the right
            of free speech and free discussion as well. Dr. Henry
            I. Bowditch, a young man, in 1835, eminent professor
            and physician subsequently, dates from that afternoon
            of mob violence his conversion to Abolitionism.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_234" id="P_234" title="P_234"></a>
            In that selfsame hour seeds of resistance to slavery
            were sown in two minds of the first order in the city
            and State. Wendell Phillips was a spectator in
            the streets that day, and the father of Charles Sumner,
            the sheriff at the time, fought bravely to save
            Garrison from falling into the hands of the mob.
            The great riot gave those young men their first
            summons to enter the service of freedom. It was
            not long afterward probably that they both began
            to read the <i>Liberator</i>. From that event many
            intelligent and conservative people associated slavery with
            lynch law and outrage upon the rights of free speech
            and popular assembly.

         </p>
         <p>
            This anti-slavery reaction of the community received
            practical demonstration in the immediate
            increase of subscribers to the <i>Liberator</i>. Twelve
            new names were added to the subscription list in one day.
            It received significant illustration also in Garrison's
            nomination to the legislature. In this way did between
            seventy and eighty citizens testify their sympathy
            for him and their reprobation of mob rule. In
            yet another way was its influence felt, and this was
            in the renewed zeal and activity which it instantly
            produced on the part of the Abolitionists themselves.
            It operated upon the movement as a powerful stimulus
            to fresh sacrifices and unwearied exertions.
            George W. Benson, Garrison's brother-in-law, led off
            bravely in this respect, as the following extract from
            a letter written by him in Boston, two days after the
            riot, to Garrison, at Brooklyn, well illustrates. He
            had come up to the city from Providence the night
            before, in quest of his sister and her husband. Not
            finding them, he turned to the cause which had been
            <a class="newpage" name="P_235" id="P_235" title="P_235"></a>
            so ruthlessly attacked, and this is the sort of care
            which he bestowed upon it. He got Burleigh to
            write a general relation of the mob for publication in
            the <i>Liberator</i>, and Whittier to indite another,
            with an appeal to the public, the same to be published immediately,
            and of which he ordered three thousand
            copies for himself.

         </p>
         <p>
            "I further ordered," he writes, "one thousand
            copies of A. Grimk&eacute;'s letter, with your introductory
            remarks, and your address published in the
            <i>Liberator</i>
            several weeks since, with your name appended, and
            Whittier's poetry on the times, in a pamphlet form.
            I urged all our friends to redouble their exertions.
            They seemed well disposed to accept the advice, as
            nothing will now avail but thorough measures. <em>Liberty
               or Death</em>!"

         </p>
         <p>
            This is a fair specimen of the indomitable, indefatigable
            spirit which was born of the attempt to put
            Abolitionism down by lawlessness and violence. Indeed,
            the "Broad-Cloth Mob," viewed in the light of
            the important consequences which followed it, was
            equal to a hundred anti-slavery meetings, or a dozen
            issues of the <i>Liberator</i>.

         </p>
         <p>
            It is a curious and remarkable circumstance that,
            on the very day of the Boston mob, there occurred
            one in Utica, N.Y., which was followed by
            somewhat similar results. An anti-slavery convention
            was attacked and broken up by a mob of "gentlemen
            of property and standing in the community,"
            under the active leadership of a member of Congress.
            Here there was an apparent defeat for the Abolitionists,
            but the consequences which followed the outrage
            proved it a blessing in disguise. For the cause made
            <a class="newpage" name="P_236" id="P_236" title="P_236"></a>
            many gains thereby, and conspicuously among them
            was Gerritt Smith, ever afterward one of its most eloquent
            and munificent supporters. If anti-slavery meetings
            made converts by tens, anti-slavery mobs made
            them by hundreds. The enemies of freedom builded
            better than they knew or intended, and Garrison had
            the weightiest of reasons for feeling thankful to them
            for the involuntary, yet vast aid and comfort which
            their pro-slavery virulence and violence were bringing
            him and the anti-slavery movement throughout the
            free States. Example: in 1835-36, the great mob year,
            as many as three hundred and twenty-eight societies
            were organized in the North for the immediate abolition
            of slavery.

         </p>
         <p>
            The mob did likewise help towards a satisfactory
            solution of the riddle propounded by Garrison: "Shall the
            <i>Liberator</i> die?" The fresh access of anti-slavery
            strength, both in respect of zeal and numbers,
            begotten by it, exerted no slight influence on
            the longevity of the <i>Liberator</i>. Poor the paper
            continued, and embarrassed the editor for many a month
            thereafter, but as an anti-slavery instrument its survival
            may be said from that proceeding to have become
            a necessity. To allow the <i>Liberator</i> to die at
            this juncture would have been such a confession of
            having been put down, such an ignominious surrender
            to the mobocrats as the Abolitionists of Boston
            would have scorned to make. "I trust," wrote
            Samuel E. Sewall, "there will not be even one week's
            interruption in the publication of the
            <i>Liberator.</i>" <i>Ex
               uno disce omnes</i>. He but voiced the sentiment of the
            editor's disciples and associates in the city, in the
            State, and in New England as well.

         </p>
         <p><a class="newpage" name="P_237" id="P_237" title="P_237"></a>
            Besides these larger consequences there were others
            of a more personal and less welcome character.
            The individual suffers but the cause goes forward.
            Property-holders in Boston after the riot
            were not at all disposed to incur the risk of renting
            property to such disturbers of the peace
            as Garrison and the <i>Liberator</i>. The owner of
            his home on Brighton street was thrown into such
            alarm for the safety of his property, if Garrison continued
            to occupy it, that he requested the cancellation
            of the lease and the vacation of the premises.
            Garrison and his friends, all things considered,
            decided that it was the part of wisdom to accede to
            the request&#8212;although this breaking up of his home
            was a sore trial to the young husband in more ways
            than one.

         </p>
         <p>
            The landlord of the building where was located the
            <i>Liberator</i> office promptly notified the publishers
            to remove the paper not many mornings after the
            mob. This was particularly hard luck, inasmuch
            as the most dilligent quest for another local habitation
            for the paper, failed of success. No one was
            willing to imperil his property by letting a part of
            it to such a popularly odious enterprise. So that
            not only had the household furniture of the editor to
            be stored, but the office effects of the paper as well.
            The inextinguishable pluck and zeal of Garrison and
            his Boston coadjutors never showed to better advantage
            than when without a place to print the
            <i>Liberator</i>,
            the paper was "set up in driblets" in other offices at
            extraordinary expense, and sent out week after week
            to tell the tale of the mob, and to preach with undiminished
            power the gospel of universal emancipation.

         </p>
         <p><a class="newpage" name="P_238" id="P_238" title="P_238"></a>
            But more afflictive to the feelings of the reformer
            than the loss of his home, or that of the office of the
            <i>Liberator</i>, was the loss of his friend, George
            Thompson. It seemed to him when the English orator
            departed that "the paragon of modern eloquence,"
            and "the benefactor of two nations," had left these
            shores. Garrison's grief was as poignant as his
            humiliation was painful. George Thompson had
            come hither only as a friend of America, and
            America had pursued him with the most relentless
            malice. The greatest precautions were taken after
            the "Broadcloth Mob" to ensure his safety. The
            place of his concealment was kept a secret and committed
            only to a few tried friends. There is no
            doubt that had these precautions not been observed
            and his hiding place been discovered by the ruffians
            of the city, his life would have been attempted. Indeed
            it is almost as certain that had he ventured to
            show himself in public he would have been murdered
            in broad daylight in any of the large towns and cities
            of Massachusetts. His mission was clearly at an
            end unless he was determined to invite martyrdom.
            In these circumstances there was nothing to do but
            to smuggle him out of the country at the first opportunity.
            On Sunday, November 8, the anxiously
            looked-for moment came when George Thompson
            was put upon a packet, in which he sailed for St.
            Johns, New Brunswick, whence he subsequently took
            passage for England. Garrison was inconsolable.
            "Who now shall go forth to argue our cause in public,"
            he sadly asked, "with subtle sophists and insolent
            scoffers?" little dreaming that there was then
            approaching him out of the all-hail hereafter a
            <a class="newpage" name="P_239" id="P_239" title="P_239"></a>
            greater in these identical respects than George
            Thompson, indisputably great as he was.

         </p>
         <p>
            It was a blessed refuge to Garrison, the Benson
            homestead of Brooklyn, termed Friendship's Valley.
            Hunted as a partridge by his enemies here he found the
            quiet, and sympathy, and the right royal welcome and
            affection for which his heart panted amidst the dust,
            and din, and dangers of the crusade against slavery.
            But grateful as were the domestic sweets of Friendship's
            Valley, his was altogether too militant and
            masterful a spirit to yield himself without a struggle
            to the repose which it offered. He did not at all
            relish the idea of being a forced exile from Boston,
            of being obliged to edit the <i>Liberator</i> at such
            long range. But his friends urged him to submit to the
            one, and do the other, both on grounds of economy
            and common prudence. He was almost super-anxious
            lest it be said that the fear of the mob drove
            him out of Boston, and that the fear of it kept him
            out. This super-anxiety in that regard his friends to a
            certain degree shared with him. It was a phase of
            Abolition grit. Danger attracted this new species of
            reformers as a magnet draws iron. Instead of running
            away from it, they were, with one accord, forever
            rushing into it. And the leader in Brooklyn
            was for rushing back to Boston, where, if one chanced
            to sow the wind in the morning, he might be morally
            certain of reaping the whirlwind in the afternoon.

         </p>
         <p>
            Two weeks after he had been secretly conveyed to
            Canton by Deputy Sheriff Parkman, being the day of
            his discharge from Leverett street jail, he was back
            again in Boston. The popular excitement had subsided.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_240" id="P_240" title="P_240"></a>
            He showed himself freely in the streets and
            was nowhere molested. One day, however, while at
            the anti-slavery office on Washington street, he witnessed
            what was perhaps a final manifestation of the
            cat-like spirit of the great mob. A procession passed
            by with band and music, bearing aloft a large board
            on which were represented George Thompson and a
            black woman with this significant allusion to the riot,
            made as if addressed to himself by his dusky companion
            in disgrace: "When are we going to have
            another meeting, Brother Thompson?" The cat-like
            creature had lapsed into a playful mood, but its playfulness
            would have quickly given place to an altogether
            different fit did it but know that Garrison was
            watching it from the window of the very room where
            a few weeks before he had nearly fallen into its
            clutches.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison remained in Boston two weeks, going
            about the city, wherever and whenever business or
            duty called him in a perfectly fearless way. He left
            on the afternoon of November 18th. On that same
            afternoon the Boston Female Anti-Slavery Society
            held a memorable meeting at the house of Francis
            Jackson. It was then that Harriet Martineau, another
            foreign emissary, avowed her entire agreement with
            the principles of the Abolitionists, which subjected
            her to social ostracism, and to unlimited abuse from
            the pro-slavery press of the city.

         </p>
         <p>
            The new hatred of slavery which the mob had
            aroused in Boston found heroic expression in a letter
            of Francis Jackson's replying to a vote of thanks of
            the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society to him for
            his hospitality to the ladies after their meeting was
            <a class="newpage" name="P_241" id="P_241" title="P_241"></a>
            broken up by the mob. Mr. Jackson in his answer
            points with emphasis to the fact that his hospitality
            had a double aim, one was the accommodation of the
            ladies, the other the preservation of the right of free
            discussion. In his regard a foundation principle of
            free institutions had been assailed. "Happily," he
            shrewdly observed, "one point seems already to be
            gaining universal assent, that slavery cannot long
            survive free discussion. Hence the efforts of the friends,
            and apologists of slavery to break down this right.
            And hence the immense stake which the enemies of
            slavery hold, in behalf of freedom and mankind, in
            its preservation. The contest is, therefore, substantially
            between liberty and slavery.

         </p>
         <p>
            "As slavery cannot exist with free discussion, so
            neither can liberty breathe without it. Losing this,
            we, too, shall be no longer free men indeed, but little,
            if at all, superior to the millions we now seek to
            emancipate." This apprehension and spirit of resistance,
            voiced by Francis Jackson, was Garrison's new
            ally, which, phoenix-like, was born out of the ashes
            of that terrific attempt of his enemies to effect his
            destruction, known as the "Broad-Cloth Mob."
            <a class="newpage" name="P_242" id="P_242" title="P_242"></a></p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap13"></a>
            CHAPTER XIII.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            THE BAROMETER CONTINUES TO FALL.

         </h2>
         <p>
            Having made trial of the strong arm of the mob as
            an instrument for putting down the Abolitionists, and
            been quite confounded by its unexpected energy and
            unmanageableness, Boston was well disposed to lay
            the weapon aside as much too dangerous for use. For
            the wild-cat-like creature might take it into its head,
            when once it had got a taste of blood, to suppress
            some other isms in the community besides Abolitionism.
            No, no, the gentlemen of property and
            standing in the community had too much at stake to
            expose their property and their persons to the perils
            of any further experiments in that direction, even for
            the sake of expressing their sympathy for their dear
            brethren in the South, or of saving the dear Union
            into the bargain. Another method more in accord
            with the genius of their high state of civilization, they
            opined, might be invented to put the agitation and the
            agitators of the slavery question down. The politicians
            thereupon proceeded to make this perfectly
            wonderful invention. Not the strong arm of the mob,
            quoth these wiseacres, but the strong arm of the law
            it shall be. And the strong arm of the law they
            forthwith determined to make it.

         </p>
         <p>
            Massachusetts was hearkening with a sort of fascination
            to the song of the slave syren. And no wonder.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_243" id="P_243" title="P_243"></a>
            For the song of the slave syren was swelling and
            clashing the while with passionate and imperious
            energy. South Carolina had led off in this kind of
            music. In December following the Boston mob Governor
            McDuffie, pitched the key of the Southern concert
            in his message to the legislature descriptive of
            anti-slavery publications, and denunciatory of the
            anti-slavery agitation. The Abolitionists were, to his
            mind, "enemies of the human race," and the movement
            for immediate emancipation ought to be made
            a felony punishable "by death without benefit of
            clergy." He boldly denied that slavery was a political
            evil, and vaunted it instead as "<em>the corner stone of
               our republican edifice</em>." The legislature upon the
            receipt of this extraordinary message proceeded to
            demand of the free States the suppression, by effective
            legislation, of anti-slavery societies and their incendiary
            publications. The burden of this demand was
            directly caught up by North Carolina, Alabama, Virginia,
            and Georgia. But there were some things
            which even a pro-slavery North could not do to oblige
            the South. Neither party, much as both desired it,
            dared to undertake the violation by law of the great
            right of free speech and of the freedom of the press.
            Not so, however, was it with sundry party leaders,
            notably the governors of New York and Massachusetts,
            who were for trying the strong arm of the law
            as an instrument for suppressing Abolitionism.
            Edward Everett was so affected by the increasing
            Southern excitement and his fears for the safety of
            the dear Union that he must needs deliver himself in
            his annual message upon the Abolition agitation. He
            was of the opinion that the Abolitionists were guilty
            <a class="newpage" name="P_244" id="P_244" title="P_244"></a>
            of an offence against Massachusetts which might be
            "prosecuted as a misdemeanor at common law." He
            evidently did not consider that in the then present
            state of political parties and of public opinion any
            repressive legislation upon the subject could be got
            through the legislature, and hence the immense utility
            of the old machinery of the common law, as an
            instrument for putting down the agitation. But in
            order to get this machinery into operation, careful
            preparation was necessary. Proof must not be wanting
            as to the dangerous and unpatriotic character and
            tendency of the movement to be repressed. There
            should be the most authoritative utterance upon this
            point to warrant the effective intervention of the
            Courts and Grand Juries of the commonwealth in the
            prosecution of the Abolitionists, as disturbers of the
            peace. Ergo the Governor's deliverance in his annual
            message against them. Now, if the legislature could
            be brought to deliver itself in tones not less certain,
            the third co&ouml;rdinate branch of the State government
            might catch its cue and act with energy in suppressing
            the disturbers of the peace of the commonwealth
            and of the dear Union as well. This was the scheme,
            the conspiracy which was in a state of incubation in
            Massachusetts in the year 1836. The pro-slavery portion
            of Governor Everett's message, together with the
            Southern demands for repressive legislation against
            the Abolitionists were referred to a joint legislative
            committee for consideration and report. The chairman
            of the committee was George Lunt, of Newburyport,
            a bitter pro-slavery politician, who saw no sign,
            received no light which did not come out of the
            South.

         </p>
         <p><a class="newpage" name="P_245" id="P_245" title="P_245"></a>
            The Abolitionists perceived the gravity of the new
            danger which threatened them, and rallied promptly
            to avert it. They shrewdly guessed that the object
            of the committee would not be the enactment of any
            new law against themselves but the adoption of condemnatory
            resolutions instead. This course they
            rightly dreaded more than the other, and to defeat it
            the managers of the Massachusetts Anti-slavery Society
            requested a public hearing of the committee,
            which was granted. On March 4th Garrison and
            many of the anti-slavery leaders appeared before the
            committee, with a carefully planned programme of
            procedure. To each of the selected speakers was
            assigned a distinct phase of the great subject of discussion
            before the committee. Samuel J. May was
            appointed to open with an exposition of the anti-slavery
            movement and of the object and motives of
            its founders; Garrison to follow with an exhibition
            of the pacific character of the agitation as contained
            in official publications whereby forgiveness, submission,
            and non-resistance were steadily inculcated;
            Ellis Gray Loring was next to demonstrate the perfectly
            constitutional character of the agitation. The
            Abolitionists had in no wise contravened the National
            or the State Constitution, either in letter or spirit, and
            so on through the programme. It was thus that the
            Abolitionists dexterously killed two birds with one
            stone; for at the same time that they made their
            defence before the committee, they managed to present
            their cause to the attention of the public as well.
            Appearing before the committee to prevent hostile
            action on the part of the legislature against their
            movement, they skillfully turned the occasion into
            <a class="newpage" name="P_246" id="P_246" title="P_246"></a>
            the most notable meeting for agitating the subject of
            slavery in the State during the year.

         </p>
         <p>
            The pro-slavery malignity of the chairman helped
            not a little to bring this result to pass. He again
            and again interrupted the speakers with the
            greatest insolence of behavior. Garrison, for a wonder,
            was allowed to finish his remarks without interruption.
            Here is a specimen of the way in which
            Paul addressed himself to King Agrippa's master&#8212;public
            opinion:

         </p>
         <p>
            "Sir," spoke he to the committee, "we loudly boast
            of our free country, and of the union of these States,
            yet I have no country! As a New Englander and as
            an Abolitionist I am excluded by a bloody proscription
            from one-half of the national territory, and so is
            every man who is known to regard slavery with abhorrence.
            Where is our Union? ... The right
            of free and safe locomotion from one part of the land
            to the other is denied to us, except on peril of our
            lives.... Therefore it is, I assert, that the Union
            is now virtually dissolved.... Look at McDuffie's
            sanguinary message! Read Calhoun's Report
            to the U.S. Senate, authorizing every postmaster in
            the South to plunder the mail of such Northern letters
            or newspapers as he may choose to think incendiary!
            Sir, the alternative presented to the people of
            New England is this: they must either submit to be
            gagged and fettered by Southern taskmasters, or
            labor unceasingly for the removal of slavery from
            our country."

         </p>
         <p>
            This was a capital stroke, a bold and brilliant
            adaptation of the history of the times to the advancement
            of the anti-slavery movement in New England.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_247" id="P_247" title="P_247"></a>
            Missing Garrison, the anger of the chairman fell upon
            Goodell and Prof. Follen, like a tiger's whelp. Follen
            was remarking upon the Faneuil Hall meeting,
            how it had rendered the Abolitionists odious in Boston,
            and how, in consequence, the mob had followed
            the meeting.

         </p>
         <p>
            "Now, gentlemen," the great scholar continued,
            "may we most reasonably anticipate that similar
            consequences would follow the expression by the
            legislature of a similar condemnation? Would not
            the mob again undertake to execute the informal
            sentence of the General Court? Would it not let
            loose again its bloodhounds upon us?"

         </p>
         <p>
            At this point Mr. Lunt peremptorily stopped the
            speaker, exclaiming:

         </p>
         <p>
            "Stop, sir! You may not pursue this course of
            remark. It is insulting to this committee and the
            legislature which they represent."

         </p>
         <p>
            The Abolitionists, after this insult, determined to
            withdraw from the hearing, and appeal to the legislature
            to be heard, not as a favor but of right. A
            new hearing was, therefore, ordered, and the reformers
            appeared a second time before the committee.
            But the scenes of the first were repeated at the second
            hearing. The chairman was intolerably insolent to
            the speakers. His violent behavior to William Goodell,
            who was paying his respects to the Southern
            documents lying on the table of the committee, terminated
            the second hearing. These documents Mr.
            Goodell described as fetters for Northern freemen,
            and boldly interrogated the chairman in respect of
            them thus:

         </p>
         <p>
            "Mr. Chairman, are you prepared to attempt putting
            <a class="newpage" name="P_248" id="P_248" title="P_248"></a>
            them on?" But the chairman was in no mood to
            listen to the question. His insolence reached a climax
            as he exclaimed passionately to Mr. Goodell,
            "Stop, sir! Sit down, sir! The committee will hear
            no more of this." But the temper of the Abolitionists
            had risen also, as had also risen the temper of the great
            audience of citizens who were present at the hearing
            which was had in the hall of the House of Representatives.
            "Freemen we came," retorted Goodell, "and
            as freemen we shall go away." Scarcely had these
            words died upon the ears when there rose sharply
            from the auditory, the stern protest "Let us go
            quickly, lest we be made slaves."

         </p>
         <p>
            The attempt to suppress the Abolitionists was a
            failure. It but stimulated the agitation and deepened
            the popular interest in the subject. Strong allies
            within and without the legislature were enlisted on
            the side of freedom. The turning of the tide of public
            sentiment in the grand old State had come. Slowly
            did it rise for awhile, but from that event it never
            ceased to flow in and with increasing volume. The
            condemnatory report of the insolent chairman proved
            as innocuous as the baying of dogs at the moon. The
            legislature refused to indorse it and the pro-slavery
            resolutions attached to it. They were both ignominiously
            laid upon the table, and what is more to the
            purpose as a straw to show the drift of popular
            opinion on the slavery question in Massachusetts,
            their author failed of a renomination as Senator at the
            hands of his dissatisfied constituents.

         </p>
         <p>
            The conflict was raging not alone in Massachusetts
            but all through the free States. In Congress
            the battle was assuming an intensely bitter character.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_249" id="P_249" title="P_249"></a>
            Here the South was the agitator. Here she kept the
            political waters in a state of violent ebullition. As
            the discord grew, sectionalism threw darkening and
            portentous shadows over the face of the Union.
            The South was insisting in all stages of passion that
            the tide of Abolition be checked in the North, that
            the flood of incendiary publications be suppressed at
            their sources in the free States. The Southern slave-holding
            President had suggested the suppression of
            these by Congress. He would "prohibit, under
            severe penalties, the circulation in the Southern
            States, through the mail, of incendiary publications
            intended to instigate the slaves to insurrection." But
            when Webster and a few Northern leaders objected
            to such a proceeding as unconstitutional and in
            derogation of the freedom of the press, the South
            treated the objection as inimical to Southern interest
            and security. Thereupon the Southern excitement
            increased all the faster. The slave-power was not
            disposed to accept anything short of complete submission
            on the part of the North. And this the
            North could not well yield. While the slave-holding
            States were clamoring for the suppression of Abolitionism
            in the free States, Abolitionism was giving
            evidences of extraordinary expansion, and activity.
            It had risen well above the zero point in politics. It
            was gaining numbers and it was gaining votes. A
            new element had appeared at the polls and both of
            the old parties began to exhibit a certain degree of
            impressibility to the latest attraction. The slave-power
            with quick instinct recognized in the new
            comer a dangerous rival, and schemed for its destruction.
            Southern jealousy took on the character of
            <a class="newpage" name="P_250" id="P_250" title="P_250"></a>
            insanity. Neither Northern Whigs nor Northern
            Democrats were permitted to show any regard for
            the rival. They were to snub and utterly abolish
            her, otherwise they should be snubbed and utterly
            abolished by the slave-power. They could not with
            impunity give to Abolitionism the scantiest attention
            or courtesy. Not even a gallant like John Quincy
            Adams, who was able to see nothing attractive in the
            little band of reformers. They seemed to him, in
            fact, "a small, shallow, and enthusiastic party preaching
            the abolition of slavery upon the principles of
            extreme democracy." If Mr. Adams had little love
            for the South, he had none whatever for the Abolitionists.
            By no stretch of the imagination could he
            have been suspected of any sentimental attachment
            to the Abolition movement. For his unvarying attitude
            towards it was one of grim contempt. But if
            the old Roman had no love for the Abolitionists, he
            did have a deep-seated attachment and reverence for
            certain ancient rights appertaining to free institutions,
            which nothing was able to shake. Among
            these was the great right of petition, viewed by the
            ex-President as a right of human nature. For a
            dozen years he stood in Congress its sleepless sentinel.
            And herein did he perform for freedom most
            valiant service. It made no difference to the dauntless
            old man whether he approved of the prayer of a
            petition or not, if it was sent to him he presented it
            to the House all the same. He presented petitions
            for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia,
            and one, at least, against it, petitions from black
            and white, bond and free, with superb fidelity to the
            precious right which he championed.

         </p>
         <p><a class="newpage" name="P_251" id="P_251" title="P_251"></a>
            This characteristic of the aged statesman kept the
            Southern members in a state of chronic apprehension
            and excitement. They bullied him, they raged like
            so many wild animals against him, they attempted to
            crush him with votes of censure and expulsion all to
            no purpose. Then they applied the gag: "That all
            petitions, memorials, and papers touching the abolition
            of slavery, or the buying, selling, or transferring
            slaves, in any State, or district, or territory of the
            United States, be laid on the table without being
            debated, printed, read, or referred, and that no action
            be taken thereon." Mr. Adam's denunciation of this
            action as a violation of the Constitution, of the right
            of the people to petition, and of the right to freedom
            of speech in Congress, found wide echo through the
            North. The violence, intolerence, and tyranny of the
            South were disgusting many of the most intelligent
            and influential minds in the non-slave-holding States,
            and driving them into more or less close affiliation
            with the anti-slavery movement.

         </p>
         <p>
            And so it was wherever one turned there were conflict
            and uproar. Everywhere contrary ideas, interests,
            institutions, tendencies, were colliding with
            inextinguishable rage. All the opposites and irreconcilables
            in a people's life had risen and clashed
            together in a death struggle for mastery. Freedom
            and slavery, civilization and barbarism had found an
            Armageddon in the moral consciousness of the
            Republic. Now the combatants rallied and the battle
            thickened at one point, now around another. At
            Washington the tide rolls in with resounding fury
            about the right of petition and the freedom of debate,
            then through the free States it surges and beats
            <a class="newpage" name="P_252" id="P_252" title="P_252"></a>
            around the right of free speech and the freedom of
            the press. Storm clouds are flying from the East and
            from the West, flying out of the North and out of the
            South. Everywhere the chaos of the winds has
            burst, and the anarchy of the "live thunder."

         </p>
         <p>
            Benton with his customary optimism from a Southern
            standpoint, rejoiced in the year 1836 that the
            people of the Northern States had "chased off the
            foreign emissaries, silenced the gabbling tongues of
            female dupes, and dispersed the assemblies, whether
            fanatical, visionary, or incendiary, of all that congregated
            to preach against evils that afflicted others, not
            them, and to propose remedies to aggravate the disease
            which they pretended to cure." Calhoun's pessimism
            was clearer eyed. The great nullifier perceived
            at once the insuppressible nature of the Abolition
            movement and early predicted that the spirit
            then abroad in the North would not "die away of
            itself without a shock or convulsion." Yes, it was as
            he had prophesied, the anti-slavery reform was, at
            the very moment of Benton's groundless jubilation,
            rising and spreading with astonishing progress
            through the free States. It was gaining footholds in
            the pulpit, the school, and the press. It was a stalwart
            sower, scattering broadcast as he walked over
            the fields of the then coming generation truths and
            antipathies of social principles, which were to make
            peace impossible between the slave-holding and the
            non-slave-holding halves of the Union.

         </p>
         <p>
            In the year 1836 the anti-slavery leaven or residuum
            for instance, was sufficiently potent to preserve the
            statutes of the free States, free from repressive laws
            directed against the Abolitionists. This was much
            <a class="newpage" name="P_253" id="P_253" title="P_253"></a>
            but there was undoubtedly another phase of the agitation,
            a phase which struck the shallow eye of Benton,
            and led him into false conclusions. It was not
            clear sailing for the reform. It was truly a period of
            stress and storm. Sometimes the reform was in a
            trough of the sea of public opinion, sometimes on the
            crest of a billow, and then again on the bosom of a
            giant ground swell. In Boston in this selfsame year
            which witnessed Benton's exultation over the fall of
            Abolitionism, the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society
            was not able to obtain the use of hall or church for
            its annual meeting, and was in consequence forced
            into insufficient accommodations at its rooms on
            Washington street. The succeeding year the society
            was obliged, from inability to obtain the use of either
            hall or church in the city, to occupy for its annual
            meeting the loft over the stable connected with the
            Marlborough Hotel. It is a long way from this rude
            meeting-house to the hall of the House of Representatives,
            but in this storm and stress period the distance
            was traversed in a few brief hours. The society
            applied in its exigency for the use of the hall for an
            evening meeting, and the application was granted by
            the members. It was a <i>jeu d'esprit</i> of Henry B.
            Stanton, "That when Boston votes we go into a stable,
            but when the State votes we go into the State House."
            It was even so, for the incident served to reveal what
            was true everywhere through the free States that the
            anti-slavery reform was making fastest progress
            among people away from the great centres of population.
            It found ready access to the simple American
            folk in villages, in the smaller towns, and in the
            rural districts of New England and the North. And
            <a class="newpage" name="P_254" id="P_254" title="P_254"></a>
            already from these independent and uncorrupted
            sons and daughters of freedom had started the deep
            ground swell which was to lift the level of Northern
            public opinion on the question of slavery.

         </p>
         <p>
            This Walpurgis period of the movement culminated
            on November 7, 1837, in a terrible tragedy. The
            place was a little Illinois town, Alton, just over the
            Mississippi River from St. Louis, and the victim was
            Elijah P. Lovejoy. He was a minister of the Presbyterian
            Church, and the editor of a weekly religious
            newspaper, first published in St. Louis and removed
            by him later to Alton. His sin was that he did not
            hold his peace on the subject of slavery in the columns
            of his paper. He was warned "to pass over in
            silence everything connected" with that question.
            But he had no choice, he had to cry aloud against
            iniquities, which, as a Christian minister and a Christian
            editor, he dared not ignore. His troubles with
            the people of St. Louis took in the spring of 1836
            a sanguinary turn, when he denounced the lynching
            of a negro by a St. Louis mob, perpetrated under circumstances
            of peculiar atrocity. In consequence
            of his outspoken condemnation of the horror, his
            office was broken into and destroyed by a mob.
            Lovejoy thereupon removed his paper to Alton, but
            the wild-cat-like spirit pursued him across the river
            and destroyed his press. He replaced his broken
            press with a new one, only to have his property a
            second time destroyed. He replaced the second with
            a third press, but a third time the mob destroyed his
            property. Then he bought a fourth press, and
            resolved to defend it with his life. Pierced by bullets
            he fell, resisting the attack of a mob bent on the destruction
            <a class="newpage" name="P_255" id="P_255" title="P_255"></a>
            of his rights. Lovejoy died a martyr to free
            speech and the freedom of the press.

         </p>
         <p>
            The tidings of this tragedy stirred the free States
            to unwonted depths. The murder of an able and singularly
            noble man by a mob was indeed horrible
            enough, but the blow which took his life was aimed
            at the right of free speech and the freedom of the
            press. He was struck down in the exercise of his liberties
            as a citizen of the town where he met death,
            and of the State and country to which he belonged.
            What brave man and good in the North who might
            not meet a similar fate for daring to denounce evils
            approved by the community in which his lot was
            cast? Who was safe? Whose turn would it be next
            to pay with his life for attempts to vindicate the
            birthright of his citizenship? What had Lovejoy
            done, what had he written, that thousands of people
            who did not agree with Garrison would not have
            done and have written under like circumstances? He
            was not a disciple of Garrison, he did not accept the
            doctrine of immediate emancipation, and yet a pro-slavery
            mob had murdered him. Yes, who was
            safe? Who was to be the next? A great horror
            transfixed the North, and bitter uncertainty, and
            tremendous dread of approaching perils to its
            liberties.

         </p>
         <p>
            Ah! had not Garrison spoken much plain truth at
            the public hearing of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery
            Society before the insolent chairman and his committee
            when he said: "The liberties of the people of the
            free States are identified with those of the slave population.
            If it were not so, there would be no hope, in
            my breast, of peaceful deliverance of the latter class
            <a class="newpage" name="P_256" id="P_256" title="P_256"></a>
            from their bondage. Our liberties are bound together
            by a ligament as vital as that which unites the Siamese
            twins. The blow which cuts them asunder, will
            inevitably destroy them both. Let the freedom of
            speech and of the press be abridged or destroyed, and
            the nation itself will be in bondage; let it remain
            untrammeled, and Southern slavery must speedily
            come to an end." The tragedy at Alton afforded
            startling illustration of the soundness of this remark.
            Classes like individuals gain wisdom only by experience;
            and the murder of Lovejoy was one of those
            terrific experiences which furrow themselves in the
            soul of a people in frightful memories and apprehensions
            which do not disappear but remain after long
            lapse of years.

         </p>
         <p>
            Twelve days after the murder&#8212;it was before the
            development of the telegraph and rapid postal facilities&#8212;the
            news reached Boston. It produced the most
            profound sensation. Many of the leading citizens
            felt straightway that if the rights assailed in the person
            of Lovejoy were to be preserved to themselves
            and their section, immediate action was required. A
            great meeting was proposed, and Faneuil Hall
            applied for. The application was denied by the
            municipal authorities on the plea that its use for such
            a purpose might provoke a mob. The city was, however,
            dealing now not with the despised Abolitionists,
            but with men of property and standing in the community
            and was soon brought to its senses by the
            indignant eloquence of Dr. Channing, appealing to
            the better self of Boston in this strain: "Has it come
            to this? Has Boston fallen so low? May not its citizens
            be trusted to come together to express the great
            <a class="newpage" name="P_257" id="P_257" title="P_257"></a>
            principles of liberty for which their forefathers died?
            Are our fellow-citizens to be murdered in the act of
            defending their property and of assuming the right
            of free discussion? And is it unsafe in this metropolis
            to express abhorrence of the deed?"

         </p>
         <p>
            A second application for the hall was granted, and
            a meeting, which is an historical event in the annals
            of the old town, was held December 8, 1837&#8212;a meeting
            memorable as an uprising, not of the Abolitionists,
            but of the conservatism and respectability of the
            city in behalf of the outraged liberties of white men.
            Ever memorable, too, for that marvelous speech of Wendell
            Phillips, which placed him instantly in the front
            rank of minds with a genius for eloquence, lifted him
            at once as an anti-slavery instrument and leader close
            beside William Lloyd Garrison. The wild-cat-like
            spirit which had hunted Thompson out of the country
            and Lovejoy to death, had more than made
            good the immense deficit of services thus created
            through the introduction upon the national stage of
            the reform of this consummate and incomparable
            orator.

         </p>
         <p>
            The assassination of Lovejoy was an imposing
            object lesson to the North, but it was not the last.
            Other and terrible illustrations of the triumph of
            mobs followed it, notably the burning of Pennsylvania
            Hall in Philadelphia on the evening of May 17,
            1838. As the murder of Lovejoy formed the culmination
            of outrages directed against the rights of person,
            the burning of Pennsylvania Hall furnished the
            climax of outrages committed against the rights of
            property. The friends of the slave and of free discussion
            in Philadelphia feeling the need of a place
            <a class="newpage" name="P_258" id="P_258" title="P_258"></a>
            where they might assemble for the exercise of the
            right of free speech in a city which denied to them
            the use of its halls and meeting-houses, determined
            to erect for themselves such a place. At a cost of
            forty thousand dollars they built Pennsylvania Hall
            and devoted it to "Free Discussion, Virtue, Liberty,
            and Independence."

         </p>
         <p>
            Two days after the dedicatory exercises were had
            the hall was occupied by the annual convention of
            American Anti-Slavery Women. On the evening of
            May 16th, Garrison, Maria Weston Chapman, Angelina
            Grimk&eacute; Weld and others addressed the convention
            in the new temple of freedom. The scenes of
            that evening have been graphically described by the
            first speaker as follows: "The floor of the hall was
            densely crowded with women, some of the noblest
            specimens of our race, a large proportion of whom
            were Quakers. The side aisles and spacious galleries
            were as thickly filled with men. Nearly three thousand
            people were in the hall. There seemed to be
            no visible symptoms of a riot. When I rose to speak
            I was greeted with applause by the immense assembly,
            and also several times in the course of my
            remarks. As soon, however, as I had concluded my
            address, a furious mob broke into the hall, yelling
            and shouting as if the very fiends of the pit had suddenly
            broken loose. The audience rose in some confusion,
            and would undoubtedly have been broken up,
            had it not been for the admirable self-possession of
            some individuals, particularly the women. The
            mobocrats finding that they could not succeed in
            their purpose, retreated into the streets, and, surrounding
            the building, began to dash in the windows
            <a class="newpage" name="P_259" id="P_259" title="P_259"></a>
            with stones and brick-bats. It was under these
            appalling circumstances that Mrs. Chapman rose for
            the first time in her life, to address a promiscuous
            assembly of men and women&#8212;and she acquitted herself
            nobly. She spoke about ten minutes, and was
            succeeded by A.E.G. Weld, who occupied nearly
            an hour. As the tumult from without increased, and
            the brick-bats fell thick and fast (no one, however,
            being injured) her eloquence kindled, her eye flashed,
            and her cheeks glowed, as she devoutly thanked the
            Lord that the stupid repose of that city had at length
            been disturbed by the force of truth. When she sat
            down, Esther Moore (a Friend) made a few remarks,
            then Lucretia Mott, and finally Abby Kelley, a noble
            young woman from Lynn.

         </p>
         <p>
            "The meeting broke up about 10 o'clock, and we
            all got safely home. The next day the street was
            thronged with profane ruffians and curious spectators&#8212;the
            women, however, holding their meetings in
            the hall all day, till towards evening. It was given
            out by the mob that the hall would be burnt to the
            ground that night. We were to have a meeting in
            the evening, but it was impossible to execute our
            purpose. The mayor induced the manager to give
            the keys of the building into his hands. He then
            locked the doors, and made a brief speech to the mob,
            assuring them that he had the keys, and that there
            would be no meeting, and requesting them to retire.
            He then went home, but the mob were bent on the
            destruction of the hall. They had now increased to
            several thousands, and soon got into the hall by
            dashing open the doors with their axes. They then
            set fire to this huge building, and in the course of an
            <a class="newpage" name="P_260" id="P_260" title="P_260"></a>
            hour it was a solid mass of flame. The bells of the
            city were rung, and several engines rallied; but no
            water was permitted to be thrown upon the building.
            The light of the fire must have been seen a great
            distance."

         </p>
         <p>
            At midnight Garrison was spirited out of the city,
            and conveyed in a covered carriage by a friend to
            Bristol, about twenty miles, where in the morning he
            took the steamboat for Boston. The light of that
            fire was visible a great distance in more senses than
            one. The burning of Pennsylvania Hall proved a
            public enlightener. After that occurrence the gentlemen
            of property scattered through the free States
            devoted themselves less to the violent suppression of
            Abolitionism and more to the forcible suppression,
            upon occasion, of the alarming manifestations
            of popular lawlessness, which found significant
            demonstration just a week later in the city of
            Boston.

         </p>
         <p>
            Mr. Garrison has preserved for us an instructive
            account of this affair, too, and here is the story as told
            by him to his brother-in-law, George W. Benson, in a
            letter dated May 25th: "The spirit of mobocracy,
            like the pestilence, is contagious; and Boston is once
            more ready to re&euml;nact the riotous scenes of 1835.
            The Marlboro' Chapel, having just been completed,
            and standing in relation to our cause just as did
            Pennsylvania Hall, is an object of pro-slavery malevolence.
            Ever since my return, threats have been given
            out that the chapel should share the fate of the hall.
            Last evening was the time for its dedication; and,
            so threatening was the aspect of things, four companies
            of light infantry were ordered to be in readiness,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_261" id="P_261" title="P_261"></a>
            each being provided with 100 <i>ball</i> cartridges, to
            rush to the scene of riot on the tolling of the bells.
            The Lancers, a powerful body of horsemen, were
            also in readiness. During the day placards were
            posted at the corners of the streets, denouncing the
            Abolitionists, and calling upon the citizens to rally at
            the chapel in the evening, in order to put them down.
            An immense concourse of people assembled, a large
            proportion doubtless from motives of curiosity, and
            not a few of them with evil designs; but owing to
            the strong military preparations, the multitude
            refrained entirely from any overt acts of violence.
            They did not disperse till after 10 o'clock, and during
            the evening shouted and yelled like a troop of
            wild savages. Some ten or twelve were seized and
            carried to the watch-house, and this morning fined
            for their disorderly conduct."

         </p>
         <p>
            The frightful excesses of the Walpurgis period of
            the agitation reacted through the free States to an
            extraordinary extent in favor of Abolition. The
            greater the horror committed by the wild-cat-like
            spirit, the greater the help which the reform derived
            therefrom. The destruction of property, and the
            destruction of life instead of putting down the hated
            Abolitionists aroused in the public mind apprehensions
            and antagonisms in respect of mobs, which
            proved, immediately and ultimately, of immense advantage
            to freedom. This revulsion on the part of
            the North from lawless attempts to abolish Abolitionism,
            affected almost unavoidably, and in the beginning
            of it almost unconsciously, the friendly dispositions
            of that section toward slavery, the root
            and mainspring of these attempts. Blows aimed at
            <a class="newpage" name="P_262" id="P_262" title="P_262"></a>
            the agent were sure, regardless of the actor's intention,
            to glance and strike the principal. In spite of
            mobs then, and to a remarkable degree because of
            mobs, Abolitionism had become a powerful motor
            in revolutionizing public opinion in the free States
            on the subject of slavery.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_263" id="P_263" title="P_263"></a></p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap14"></a>
            CHAPTER XIV.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            BROTHERLY LOVE FAILS, AND IDEAS ABOUND.

         </h2>
         <p>
            During those strenuous, unresting years, included
            between 1829 and 1836, Garrison had leaned on his
            health as upon a strong staff. It sustained him without
            a break through that period, great as was the
            strain to which it was subjected. But early in the
            latter year the prop gave way, and the pioneer was
            prostrated by a severe fit of sickness. It lasted off
            and on for quite two years. His activity the first
            year was seriously crippled, though at no time, owing
            to his indomitable will, could he be said to have
            been rendered completely <i>hors de combat</i>. Almost the
            whole of 1836 he spent with his wife's family in
            Brooklyn, where his first child was born. This new
            mouth brought with it fresh cares of a domestic character.
            He experienced losses also. Death removed
            his aged father-in-law in the last month of 1836, and
            four weeks later Henry E. Benson, his brother-in-law.
            Their taking off was a sad blow to the reformer and
            to the reform. That of the younger man cast a
            gloom over anti-slavery circles in New England; for
            at the time of his death he was the secretary and
            general agent of the Massachusetts Society, and although
            not twenty-three, had displayed uncommon
            capacity for affairs. The business ability which he
            brought into his office was of the greatest value
            <a class="newpage" name="P_264" id="P_264" title="P_264"></a>
            where there was such a distinct deficiency in that respect
            among his coadjutors, and the loss of it seemed
            irreparable.

         </p>
         <p>
            Afflicted as he was, the leader was nevertheless
            cheered by the extraordinary progress of the movement
            started by him. The growth and activity of
            Abolitionism were indeed altogether phenomenal. In
            February, 1837, Ellis Gray Loring estimated that
            there were then eight hundred anti-slavery societies
            in the United States, that an anti-slavery society had
            been formed in the North every day for the last two
            years, and that in the single State of Ohio there were
            three hundred societies, one of which had a membership
            of four thousand names. The moral agitation
            was at its height. The National Society had hit upon
            a capital device for increasing the effectiveness of
            its agents and lecturers. This was to bring them
            together in New York for a few weeks' study of the
            slavery question under the direction of such masters
            as Theodore D. Weld, Beriah Green, Charles Stuart,
            and others. All possible phases of the great subject,
            such as, What is slavery? What is immediate emancipation?
            The consequences of emancipation to the
            South, etc., etc., pro-slavery objections and arguments
            were stated and answered. The agents and
            lecturers went forth from the convention bristling
            with facts, and glowing with enthusiasm to renew the
            crusade against slavery. Garrison, broken in health
            as he was, went on from Boston to attend this school
            of his disciples. He spoke briefly but repeatedly to
            them upon the all-absorbing topic which had brought
            them together. "It was a happy circumstance, too,"
            he wrote, "that I was present with them, and that
            <a class="newpage" name="P_265" id="P_265" title="P_265"></a>
            they had an opportunity to become <em>personally</em>
            acquainted with me; for, as I am a great stumbling-block
            in the way of the people, or, rather, of some
            people, it would be somewhat disastrous to our cause
            if any of our agents, through the influence of popular
            sentiment, should be led to cherish prejudices
            against me."

         </p>
         <p>
            In February, 1837, the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society came to the
            rescue of the <i>Liberator</i> from its
            financial embarrassments and hand-to-mouth existence
            by assuming the responsibility of its publication.
            The arrangement did not in any respect
            compromise Mr. Garrison's editorial independence,
            but lifted from him and his friend Knapp in his own
            language, "a heavy burden, which has long crushed
            us to the earth." The arrangement, nevertheless,
            continued but a year when it was voluntarily set
            aside by Mr. Garrison for causes of which we must
            now give an account.

         </p>
         <p>
            In the letter from which we have quoted above,
            touching his visit to the Convention of Anti-Slavery
            Agents, Garrison alludes to one of these causes. He
            says: "I was most kindly received by all, and treated
            as a brother, notwithstanding the wide difference of
            opinion between us on some religious points, <em>especially
               the Sabbath question</em>." The italics are our own.
            Until within a few years he had been one of the
            strictest of Sabbath observers. Although never formally
            connected with any church, he had been a
            narrow and even an intolerant believer in the creed
            and observances of New England orthodoxy. Words
            failed him in 1828 to express his abhorrence of a
            meeting of professed infidels: "It is impossible," he
            <a class="newpage" name="P_266" id="P_266" title="P_266"></a>
            exclaimed with the ardor of a bigot, "to estimate the
            depravity and wickedness of those who, at the
            present day, reject the Gospel of Jesus Christ," etc. A year and a half later
            while editing the <i>Genius</i> in
            Baltimore, he held uncompromisingly to the stern
            Sabbatical notions of the Puritans. A f&ecirc;te given to
            Lafayette in France on Sunday seemed to him an
            act of sheer religious desecration. The carrying of
            passengers and the mails on the Sabbath provoked
            his energetic reprobation. He was in all points of
            New England Puritanism, orthodox of the orthodox.

         </p>
         <p>
            Subsequently he began to see things in a different
            light. As the area of his experience extended it
            came to him that living was more than believing,
            that it was not every one who professed faith in
            Jesus had love for him in the heart; and that there
            were many whom his own illiberalism had rated as
            depraved and wicked on mere points of doctrine,
            who, nevertheless, shamed by the blamelessness and
            nobility of their conduct multitudes of ardent Christians
            of the lip-service sort. Indeed this contradiction
            between creed and conduct struck him with considerable
            force in the midst of his harsh judgments
            against unbelief and unbelievers. "There are, in
            fact," he had remarked a year or two after he had
            attained his majority, "few <em>reasoning</em> Christians; the
            majority of them are swayed more by the usages of
            the world than by any definite perception of what
            constitutes duty&#8212;so far, we mean, as relates to the
            subjugation of vices which are incorporated, as it
            were, into the existence of society; else why is it
            that intemperance, and slavery, and war, have not
            ere this in a measure been driven from our land?"

         </p>
         <p><a class="newpage" name="P_267" id="P_267" title="P_267"></a>
            As the months of his earnest young life passed
            him by, they showed him as they went how horrible
            a thing was faith without works. "By their fruits
            ye shall know them," the Master had said, and more
            and more as he saw how many and great were the
            social evils to be reformed, and in what dire need
            stood his country of righteous action, did he come
            to put increasing emphasis on conduct, as the one
            thing needful to rid the land of the triple curse of
            slavery, intemperance, and war. As he mused upon
            these giant evils, and the desolation which they were
            singly and together causing in the world, and upon
            the universal apathy of the churches in respect of
            them, it seemed to him that the current religion was
            an offence and an abomination. And in his prophetic
            rage he denounced it as "a religion which quadrates
            with the natural depravity of the heart, giving
            license to sin, restraining no lust, mortifying not the
            body, engendering selfishness, and cruelty!&#8212;a religion
            which walks in silver slippers, on a carpeted
            floor, having thrown off the burden of the cross and
            changed the garments of humiliation for the splendid
            vestments of pride! a religion which has no courage,
            no faithfulness, no self-denial, deeming it better to
            give heed unto men than unto God!" This was in
            the autumn of 1829, but though he was thus violently
            denunciatory of contemporary religion, the severity
            of his judgment against the skepticism of the times
            had not been materially modified. He still regarded
            the unbeliever with narrow distrust and dislike.
            When, after his discharge from Baltimore jail, he was
            engaged in delivering his message on the subject of
            slavery, and was seeking an opportunity to make
            <a class="newpage" name="P_268" id="P_268" title="P_268"></a>
            what he knew known to the people of Boston, he was
            forced, after vainly advertising for a hall or meeting-house
            in which to give his three lectures, to accept
            the offer of Abner Kneeland's Society of Infidels of
            the use of their hall for that purpose. The spirit of
            these people, branded by the community as blasphemers,
            and by himself, too, in all probability,
            Garrison saw to be as admirable as the spirit displayed
            by the churches of the city toward him and
            his cause was unworthy and sinful. But, grateful as
            he was for the hospitality of the infidels, he, nevertheless,
            rather bluntly informed them that he had no
            sympathy with their religious notions, and that he
            looked for the abolition of slavery to evangelicism,
            and to it alone.

         </p>
         <p>
            A few years in the university of experience, where
            he learned that conduct is better than creeds, and
            living more than believing, served to emancipate him
            from illiberal prejudices and narrow sectarianism.
            He came to see, "that in Christ Jesus all stated
            observances are so many self-imposed and unnecessary
            yokes; and that prayer and worship are all
            embodied in that pure, meek, child-like state of heart
            which affectionately and reverently breathes but one
            petition&#8212;'Thy will be done on earth as it is in
            heaven.' Religion ... is nothing but love&#8212;perfect
            love toward God and toward man&#8212;without formality,
            without hypocrisy, without partiality&#8212;depending
            upon no outward form to preserve its vitality or
            prove its existence."

         </p>
         <p>
            This important change in Mr. Garrison's religious
            convictions became widely known in the summer of
            1836 through certain editorial strictures of his upon
            <a class="newpage" name="P_269" id="P_269" title="P_269"></a>
            a speech of Dr. Lyman Beecher, at Pittsburgh, on the
            subject of the Sabbath. The good doctor was cold
            enough on the question of slavery, which involved
            not only the desecration of the Sabbath, but of the
            souls and bodies of millions of human beings. If
            Christianity was truly of divine origin, and Garrison
            devoutly believed that it was, it would approve its
            divinity by its manner of dealing with the vices and
            evils which were dragging and chaining the feet of
            men to the gates of hell. If it parleyed with iniquity,
            if it passed its victims by on the other side, if it did
            not war incessantly and energetically to put down
            sin, to destroy wickedness, it was of the earth, earthy,
            and its expounders were dumb dogs where they
            should bark the loudest and bite the hardest; and
            Dr. Beecher appeared to him one of these dumb dogs,
            who, when he opened his mouth at all, was almost
            sure to open it at the men who were trying through
            evil report and good to express in their lives the
            spirit of Him who so loved the world that He gave
            His Son to die to redeem it. He bayed loud enough
            at the Abolitionists but not at the abomination which
            they were attacking. He was content to leave it to
            the tender mercies of two hundred years. No such
            liberal disposition of the question of the Sabbath was
            he willing to allow. He waxed eloquent in its behalf.
            His enthusiasm took to itself wings and made a great
            display of ecclesiastical zeal beautiful to behold.
            "The Sabbath," quoth the teacher who endeavored
            to muzzle the students of Lane Seminary on the
            subject of slavery, whose ultimate extinction his
            prophetic soul quiescently committed to the operation
            of two centuries; "the Sabbath," quoth he, "is
            <a class="newpage" name="P_270" id="P_270" title="P_270"></a>
            the <em>great sun of the moral world</em>." Out upon you,
            said Garrison, the <b>LORD GOD</b> is the
            <em>great sun of the moral world</em>, not the Sabbath.
            It is not one, but
            every day of the week which is His, and which men
            should be taught to observe as holy days. It is not
            regard for the forms of religion but for the spirit,
            which is essential to righteousness. What is the
            command, 'Remember the Sabbath day to keep it
            holy,' but one of ten commandments? Is the violation
            of the fourth any worse than the violation of the
            third or fifth, or sixth? Nowhere is it so taught in
            the Bible. Yet, what is slavery but a breaking and
            treading down of the whole ten, what but a vast
            system of adultery, robbery, and murder, the daily
            and yearly infraction on an appalling scale not alone
            of the spirit but of the letter of the decalogue?

         </p>
         <p>
            Mr. Garrison then passed to criticisms of a more
            special character touching the observance of the day
            thus: "These remarks are made not to encourage
            men to do wrong at any time, but to controvert a
            pernicious and superstitious notion, and one that is
            very prevalent, that extraordinary and supernatural
            visitations of divine indignation upon certain transgressors
            (of the Sabbath particularly and almost
            exclusively) are poured out now as in the days of
            Moses and the prophets. Whatever claim the Sabbath
            may have to a strict religious observance, we
            are confident it cannot be strengthened, but must
            necessarily be weakened, by all such attempts to
            enforce or prove its sanctity." This pious but
            rational handling of the Sabbath question gave
            instant offence to the orthodox readers of the
            <i>Liberator</i>. For it was enough in those days to
            convict
            <a class="newpage" name="P_271" id="P_271" title="P_271"></a>
            the editor of rank heresy. From one and another
            of his subscribers remonstrances came pouring in
            upon him. A young theological student at Yale
            ordered his paper stopped in consequence of the
            anti-Sabbatarian views of the editor. A Unitarian
            minister at Harvard, Mass., was greatly cut up by
            reason thereof, and suddenly saw what before he did
            not suspect. "I had supposed you," he wrote in his
            new estate, "a very pious person, and that a large
            proportion of the Abolitionists were religious persons.... I have
            thought of you as another Wilberforce&#8212;but
            would Wilberforce have spoken thus of
            the day on which the Son of God rose from the
            dead?" Garrison's query in reply&#8212;"Would Wilberforce
            have denied the identity of Christ with the
            Father?"&#8212;was a palpable hit. But as he himself
            justly remarked, "Such questions are not arguments,
            but fallacies unworthy of a liberal mind." Nevertheless,
            so long as men are attached to the leading
            strings of sentiment rather than to those of reason,
            such questions will possess tremendous destructive
            force, as Mr. Garrison, in his own case, presently perceived.
            He understood the importance of not arousing
            against him "denominational feelings or peculiarities,"
            and so had steered the <i>Liberator</i> clear of the
            rocks of sectarianism. But when he took up in its
            columns the Sabbath question he ran his paper
            directly among the breakers of a religious controversy.
            He saw how it was with him at once, saw
            that he had stirred up against him all that religious
            feeling which was crystallized around the first day of
            the week, and that he could not hope to escape without
            serious losses in one way or another. "It is
            <a class="newpage" name="P_272" id="P_272" title="P_272"></a>
            pretty certain," he writes Samuel J. May in September,
            1836, "that the <i>Liberator</i> will sustain a serious
            loss in its subscriptions at the close of the present
            volume; and all appeals for aid in its behalf will be
            less likely to prevail than formerly. I am conscious
            that a mighty sectarian conspiracy is forming to
            crush me, and it will probably succeed to some
            extent."

         </p>
         <p>
            This controversy over the Sabbath proved the thin
            edge of differences and dissensions, which, as they
            went deeper and deeper, were finally to rend asunder
            the erstwhile united Abolition movement. The period
            was remarkable for the variety and force of new
            ideas, which were coming into being, or passing into
            general circulation. And to all of them it seems that
            Garrison was peculiarly receptive. He took them all
            in and planted them in soil of extraordinary fertility.
            It was immediately observed that it was not only one
            unpopular notion which he had adopted, but a whole
            headful of them. And every one of these new ideas
            was a sort of rebel-reformer, a genuine man of war.
            They had come as a protest against the then existing
            beliefs and order of things, come as their enemies and
            destroyers. Each one of them was in a sense a
            stirrer-up of sedition against old and regnant relations
            and facts, political, moral, and religious. Whoever
            espoused them as his own, espoused as his own
            also the antagonisms, political, moral, and religious
            which they would excite in the public mind. All of
            which was directly illustrated in the experience of the editor of the
            <i>Liberator</i>. Each of these new notions
            presently appeared in the paper along with Abolitionism.
            What was his intention timid people began to
            <a class="newpage" name="P_273" id="P_273" title="P_273"></a>
            inquire? Did he design to carry them along with the
            Abolition movement? Suspicious minds fancied they
            saw "in Mr. Garrison, a decided wish, nay, a firm
            resolve, in laboring to overthrow slavery, to overthrow
            the Christian Sabbath and the Christian ministry.
            His doctrine is that every day is a Sabbath,
            and every man his own minister. There are no
            Christian ordinances, there is no visible church." His
            no-government and non-resistant ideas excited yet
            further the apprehensions of some of his associates
            for the safety of that portion of the present order to
            which they clung. As developed by Garrison they
            seemed to deny the right of the people "to frame a
            government of laws to protect themselves against
            those who would injure them, and that man can
            apply physical force to man rightfully under no circumstances,
            and not even the parent can apply the
            rod to the child, and not be, in the sight of God, a
            trespasser and a tyrant."

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison embraced besides Perfectionism, a sort of
            political, moral, and religious Come-outerism, and
            faith in "universal emancipation from sin." His
            description of himself about this time as "an Ishmaelitish
            editor" is not bad, nor his quotation of "Woe is
            me my mother! for I was born a man of strife" as
            applicable to the growing belligerency of his relations
            with the anti-slavery brethren in consequence
            of the new ideas and isms, which were taking possession
            of his mind and occupying the columns of the
            <i>Liberator</i>.

         </p>
         <p>
            Among the strife-producers during this period of
            the anti-slavery agitation, the woman's question played
            a principal part. Upon this as upon the Sabbath
            <a class="newpage" name="P_274" id="P_274" title="P_274"></a>
            question, Garrison's early position was one of extreme
            conservatism. As late as 1830, he shared the common
            opinions in regard to woman's sphere, and was
            strongly opposed to her stepping outside of it into
            that occupied by man. A petition of seven hundred
            women of Pittsburgh, Pa., to Congress in behalf of
            the Indians gave his masculine prejudices a great
            shock. "This is, in our opinion," he declared, "an
            uncalled for interference, though made with holiest
            intentions. We should be sorry to have this practice
            become general. There would then be no question
            agitated in Congress without eliciting the informal
            and contrariant opinions of the softer sex." This top-lofty
            sentiment accorded well with the customary
            assumption and swagger of one of the lords of creation.
            For the young reformer was evidently a firm
            believer in the divine right of his sex to rule in the
            world of politics. But as he grew taller and broader
            the horizon of woman widened, and her sphere
            embraced every duty, responsibility, and right for
            which her gifts and education fitted her. The hard
            and fast lines of sex disappeared from his geography
            of the soul. He perceived for a truth that in humanity
            there was neither male nor female, but that man
            and woman were one in work and destiny&#8212;equals in
            bearing the world's burden, equals in building the
            world's glory. He heard in his heart the injunction of
            the eternal wisdom saying: "Whom God hath joined
            together let no man put asunder;" and straightway
            disposed his opinions and prejudices, his thoughts
            and purposes in cordial obedience therewith. He saw
            at once the immense value of woman's influence in
            the temperance movement, he saw no less quickly her
            <a class="newpage" name="P_275" id="P_275" title="P_275"></a>
            importance in the anti-slavery reform, and he had
            appealed to her for help in the work of both, and she
            had justified his appeal and proven herself the most
            devoted of coadjutors.

         </p>
         <p>
            In the beginning of the movement against slavery
            the line of demarcation between the sexes was strictly
            observed in the formation of societies. The men had
            theirs, the women theirs. Each, sexually considered,
            were very exclusive affairs. It did not seem to have
            occurred to the founders of the New England Anti-Slavery
            Society, or of the national organization to
            admit women to membership in them, nor did it seem
            to enter the mind of any woman to prefer a request
            to be admitted into them. Anti-slavery women organized
            themselves into female anti-slavery societies, did
            their work apart from the men, who plainly regarded
            themselves as the principals in the contest, and
            women as their moral seconds. The first shock,
            which this arrangement, so accordant with the oak-and-ivy
            notion of the masculine half of mankind,
            received, came when representatives of the gentler
            sex dropped the secondary role assigned women in
            the conflict, and began to enact that of a star. The
            advent of the sisters Grimk&eacute; upon the anti-slavery
            stage as public speakers, marked the advent of the
            idea of women's rights, of their equality with men in
            the struggle with slavery.

         </p>
         <p>
            At the start these ladies delivered their message to
            women only, but by-and-bye as the fame of their eloquence
            spread men began to appear among their
            auditories. Soon they were thrilling packed halls
            and meeting-houses in different parts of the country,
            comprised of men and women. The lesson which
            <a class="newpage" name="P_276" id="P_276" title="P_276"></a>
            their triumph enforced of women's fitness to enact
            the r&ocirc;le of principals in the conflict with slavery was
            not lost upon the sex. Women went, saw, and conquered
            their prejudices against the idea of equality;
            likewise, many men. The good seed of universal liberty
            and equality fell into fruitful soil and germinated
            in due time within the heart of the moral movement
            against slavery.

         </p>
         <p>
            The more that Sarah and Angelina Grimk&eacute; reflected
            upon the sorry position to which men had assigned
            women in Church and State the more keenly did they
            feel its injustice and degradation. They beat with
            their revolutionary idea of equality against the iron
            bars of the cage-like sphere in which they were born,
            and within which they were doomed to live and die
            by the law of masculine might. At heart they were
            rebels against the foundation principle of masculine
            supremacy on which society and government rested.
            While pleading for the freedom of the slaves, the
            sense of their own bondage and that of their sisters
            rose up before them and revealed itself in bitter questionings.
            "Are we aliens," asked Angelina, "because
            we are women? Are we bereft of citizenship because
            we are the <em>mothers, wives, and daughters</em> of a mighty people?
            Have <em>women</em> no country&#8212;no interests staked on
            the public weal&#8212;no partnership in a nation's guilt or
            shame?" This discontent with the existing social
            establishment in its relation to women received sympathetic
            responses from many friends to whom the
            sisters communicated the contagion of their unrest
            and dissatisfaction. Angelina records that, "At
            friend Chapman's, where we spent a social evening, I
            had a long talk with the brethren on the rights of
            <a class="newpage" name="P_277" id="P_277" title="P_277"></a>
            women, and found a very general sentiment prevailing
            that it is time our fetters were broken. L.M.
            Child and Maria Chapman strongly supported this
            view; indeed very many seem to think a new order
            of things is very desirable in this respect."

         </p>
         <p>
            This prevalence of a sentiment favorable to women's
            rights, which Angelina observed in Mrs. Chapman's
            parlors possessed no general significence. For true
            to the character of new ideas, this particular new
            idea did not bring peace but a sword. It set Abolition
            brethren against Abolition brethren, and blew
            into a flame the differences of leaders among themselves.
            But the first irruption of strife which it
            caused proceeded from without, came from the
            church or rather from the clergy of the Orthodox
            Congregational churches of Massachusetts. This clerical
            opposition to the idea of women's rights found
            expression in the celebrated "Pastoral Letter," issued
            by the General Association of Ministers of that
            denomination to the churches of the same in the summer
            of 1837. This ecclesiastical bull had two distinct
            purposes to accomplish; first, to discourage the
            agitation of the slavery question by excluding anti-slavery
            agents from lecturing upon that subject in
            the churches; and, second, to suppress the agitation
            of the woman's question by setting the seal of the disapproval
            of the clergy to the appearance of women in
            their new and revolutionary r&ocirc;le of public speakers
            and teachers on the burning subjects of the times.
            The reverend authors threw up their hands and
            eyes in holy horror at the "widespread and permanent
            injury" which seemed to them to threaten "the
            female character." They scorned the new-fangled
            <a class="newpage" name="P_278" id="P_278" title="P_278"></a>
            notion of woman's independence, and asked for nothing
            better than the Pauline definition of her "appropriate
            duties and influence." "The power of women,"
            quoth they, "is in her dependence.... When she
            assumes the place and tone of man as a public
            reformer, our care and protection of her seem unnecessary;
            we put ourselves in self-defence against her,
            she yields the power which God has given her for
            protection, and her character becomes unnatural!"

         </p>
         <p>
            These Congregational ministers were not the only
            representatives of the lordly sex to whom the idea of
            women's equality was repellent. Anti-slavery brethren,
            too, were flinging themselves into all postures of
            self-defence against the dangerous innovation, which
            the sisters Grimk&eacute; were letting into the social establishment,
            by itinerating "in the character of public
            lecturers and teachers." Amos A. Phelps was quite
            as strongly opposed to women preachers, to women
            assuming the "place and tone of man as a public
            reformer," as Nehemiah Adams himself. He remonstrated,
            with them against their continued assumption
            of the character of public lecturers and teachers,
            but to no purpose. Sarah and Angelina were uncompromising,
            refused to yield one iota of their rights as
            "moral and responsible beings." They firmly declined
            to make their Quakerism and not their womenhood
            their warrant for "exercising the rights and performing
            the duties" of rational and responsible beings, for
            the sake of quieting tender consciences, like that of
            Phelps, among the anti-slavery brethren. They were in
            earnest and demanded to know "whether there is such
            a thing as male and female virtues, male and female
            duties." Angelina writes: "My opinion is that there
            <a class="newpage" name="P_279" id="P_279" title="P_279"></a>
            is no difference, and that this false idea has run the
            ploughshare of ruin over the whole field of morality.
            My idea is that whatever is morally right for a man
            to do is morally right for a woman to do. I recognize
            no rights but human rights.... I am persuaded
            that woman is not to be, as she has been, a mere second-hand
            agent in the regeneration of a fallen world,
            but the acknowledged equal and co-worker with
            man in this glorious work."

         </p>
         <p>
            The debate on the subject threatened for a short
            season to push the woman's question to the level of
            the slavery question. The contention became acrimonious,
            and the alienation of friendships was widespread.
            John G. Whittier and Theodore D. Weld,
            who were both avowed believers in the idea of
            women's rights, nevertheless, felt that the agitation
            of the subject, under the circumstances, was a grave
            blunder. "No moral enterprise, when prosecuted
            with ability and any sort of energy, <em>ever</em> failed under
            heaven," wrote Weld to Sarah and Angelina, "so
            long as its conductors pushed the <em>main</em> principle, and
            did not strike off until they reached the summit level.
            On the other hand, every reform that ever foundered
            in mid-sea, was capsized by one of these gusty
            side-winds." Both Weld and Whittier endeavored
            to dissuade the sisters from mooting the question of
            women's rights at all, and to urge them to devote
            their voice and pen to the "<em>main</em> principle" exclusively.
            But Angelina confesses that "our judgment
            is not convinced, and we hardly know what to do
            about it, for we have just as high an opinion of
            Brother Garrison's views, and <em>he</em> says '<em>go on</em>.'" The
            influence of Weld and Whittier finally prevailed with
            <a class="newpage" name="P_280" id="P_280" title="P_280"></a>
            "Carolina's high-souled daughters," and they refrained
            from further agitation of the subject of
            Women's rights lest they should thereby injure the
            cause of the slave.

         </p>
         <p>
            But the leaven of equality was not so effectually
            disposed of. It had secured permanent lodgment in
            the anti-slavery body, and the fermentation started
            by it, went briskly on. Such progress did the principle
            of women's rights make among the Eastern Abolitionists,
            especially among those of Massachusetts,
            that in the spring of 1838 the New England Anti-Slavery
            Society voted to admit women to equal
            membership with men. This radical action was followed
            by a clerical secession from the society, which
            made a stir at the time. For among the seceding
            members was no less a personage than Amos A.
            Phelps, who was the general agent of the Massachusetts
            Society, and therefore one of Garrison's
            stanchest supporters. The reform instituted by the
            New England Society, in respect of the character of
            its membership, was quickly adopted by the Massachusetts
            Society and by several local organizations,
            all of which set the ball of discord spinning among
            the brethren at a great rate. But by this time all the
            new ideas, Sabbatical, no-government, perfectionist,
            non-resistance, as well as women's rights, were within
            the anti-slavery arena, and fencing and fighting for a
            chance to live, with the old ideas and the old order.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison championed all of the new ideas, and in
            doing so arrayed against himself all of the special
            champions of the existing establishments. In his reduced
            physical state, the reformer was not equal to
            the tremendous concussions of this "era of activity,"
            <a class="newpage" name="P_281" id="P_281" title="P_281"></a>
            as Emerson named it. At moments he appeared bewildered
            amid the loud, fierce clamor of contending
            ideas, each asserting in turn its moral primacy.
            For an instant the vision of the great soul grew dim,
            the great heart seemed to have lost its bearings. All
            of the new ideas thawed and melted into each other,
            dissolved into one vague and grand solidarity of
            reforms. The voice of the whole was urging him
            amid the gathering moral confusion to declare himself
            for all truth, and he hearkened irresolute, with
            divided mind. "I feel somewhat at a loss to know
            what to do"&#8212;he confesses at this juncture to George
            W. Benson, "whether to go into all the principles of
            holy reform and make the Abolition cause subordinate,
            or whether still to persevere in the <em>one</em> beaten
            track as hitherto. Circumstances hereafter must
            determine this matter." That was written in August,
            1837; a couple of months later circumstances had
            not determined the matter, it would seem, from the
            following extract from a letter to his brother-in-law:
            "It is not my intention at present to alter either the
            general character or course of the <i>Liberator</i>. My
            work in the anti-slavery cause is not wholly done;
            as soon as it is, I shall know it, and shall be prepared,
            I trust, to enter upon a mightier work of
            reform."

         </p>
         <p>
            Meanwhile the relations between the editor of the
            <i>Liberator</i> and the managers of the national
            organization were becoming decidedly strained. For it seemed
            to them that Garrison had changed the anti-slavery
            character of his paper by the course which he had
            taken in regard to the new ideas which were finding
            their way into its columns to the manifest harm of
            <a class="newpage" name="P_282" id="P_282" title="P_282"></a>
            the main principle of immediate emancipation. This
            incipient estrangement between the pioneer and the
            executive committee of the national society was
            greatly aggravated by an occurrence, which, at the
            time, was elevated to an importance that it did not
            deserve. This occurrence was what is known in anti-slavery
            annals as the "Clerical Appeal." Five clergymen,
            who were obviously unfriendly to Garrison, and
            distrustful of the religious and social heresies which
            they either saw or fancied that they saw in the
            <i>Liberator</i>,
            and withal jealous lest the severities of the paper
            against particular pro-slavery ministers should diminish
            the influence and sacred character of their order,
            published, in August of 1837, in the
            <i>New England Spectator</i>
            an acrid arraignment of editor and paper, upon
            five several charges, designed to bring Garrisonism to
            the block and speedy death. This document was followed
            by two other appeals by way of supplement
            and rejoinder from the same source, an "Andover
            Appeal" from kindred spirits and a bitter, personal
            letter from one of the "seventy agents," all of
            them having a common motive and purpose, viz.,
            sectarian distrust and dislike of Garrison, and desire
            to reduce his anti-slavery influence to a nullity.

         </p>
         <p>
            In his diseased and suffering bodily condition, Garrison
            naturally enough fell into the error of exaggerating
            the gravity of these attacks upon himself. Insignificant
            in an historical sense, they really were an episode,
            an unpleasant one to be sure for the time being,
            but no more. To Garrison, however, they appeared
            in a wholly different light. It seemed a rebellion on
            a pretty grand scale, which called for all his strength,
            all the batteries of the friends of freedom, all his terrible
            <a class="newpage" name="P_283" id="P_283" title="P_283"></a>
            and unsparing severities of speech to quell it.
            All his artillery he posted promptly in positions commanding
            the camp of the mutineers, and began to
            pour, as only he could, broadside after broadside
            into the works of the wretched little camp of
            rebels. He could hardly have expended more energy
            and ammunition in attacking a strategical point of
            Southern slavery, than was expended in punishing a
            handful of deserters and insurgents. But, alas! he
            was not satisfied to draw upon his own resources for
            crushing the clerical sedition, he demanded reinforcements
            from the central authorities in New York as
            well. And then began a contention between him and
            the Executive Committee of the National Society,
            which issued only in ill.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison considered it the duty of the Executive
            Committee to disapprove officially of the action of the
            Massachusetts recalcitrants, and also the duty of its
            organ, the <i>Emancipator</i>, to rebuke the authors of
            the "appeals." Not so, replied Lewis Tappan and Elizur
            Wright, your request is unreasonable. If you choose
            to make a mountain out of a molehill, you choose to
            make a mistake which the Executive Committee will
            not repeat. Your troubles are wholly local, of no
            general importance whatever. "What! Shall a whole
            army stop its aggressive movements into the territories
            of its enemies to charge bayonets on five soldiers,
            subalterns, company, or even staff officers, because
            they stray into a field to pick berries, throw stones or
            write an 'appeal?' To be frank with you we shall
            make bold to say that we do not approve of the
            appeal, it is very censurable, its spirit is bad, but
            neither do we approve of your action in the premises,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_284" id="P_284" title="P_284"></a>
            it is also very censurable and its spirit is bad. What
            then? shall the Executive Committee condemn the
            authors of the appeal and not condemn the editor of
            the <i>Liberator</i> also? If strict military justice
            were done should not both parties be cashiered? Let the
            Sabbath and the theoretic theology of the priesthood
            alone for the present." "I could have wished, yes, I
            have wished from the bottom of my soul," it is
            Wright who now holds the pen, "that you could conduct
            that dear paper, the <i>Liberator</i>, in the singleness
            of purpose of its first years, without traveling off
            from the ground of our true, noble, heart-stirring
            Declaration of Sentiments&#8212;without breathing sentiments
            which are novel and shocking to the community,
            and which seem to me to have no logical sequence
            from the principles on which we are associated as
            Abolitionists. I cannot but regard the taking hold of
            one great moral enterprise while another is in hand
            and but half achieved, as an outrage upon commonsense,
            somewhat like that of the dog crossing the
            river with his meat. But you have seen fit to introduce
            to the public some novel views&#8212;I refer especially
            to your sentiments on government and religious
            perfection&#8212;and they have produced the effect which
            was to have been expected. And now considering
            what stuff human nature is made of, is it to be wondered
            at that some honest-hearted, thorough-going
            Abolitionists should have lost their equanimity? As
            you well know I am comparatively no bigot to any
            creed, political or theological, yet to tell the plain
            truth, I look upon your notions of government and
            religious perfection as downright fanaticism&#8212;as
            harmless as they are absurd. I would not care a pin's
            <a class="newpage" name="P_285" id="P_285" title="P_285"></a>
            head if they were preached to all Christendom; for
            it is not in the human mind (except in a peculiar
            and, as I think, diseased state) to believe them."

         </p>
         <p>
            Barring the extreme plainness of speech with which
            Wright and Tappan gave their advice to Mr. Garrison,
            it was in the main singularly sound and wise.
            But the pioneer did not so regard it. He was possessed
            with his idea of the importance of chastising
            the clerical critics, and of the duty of the Executive
            Committee and of the <i>Emancipator</i> to back him
            in the undertaking. His temper was, under all circumstances,
            masterful and peremptory. It was never
            more masterful and peremptory than in its management
            of this business. The very reasonable course of
            the Board at New York suggested to his mind a predominance
            of "sectarianism at headquarters," seemed
            to him "criminal and extraordinary." As the Executive
            Committee and its organ would not rebuke the
            schismatics, he was moved to rebuke the Executive
            Committee and its organ for their "blind and
            temporizing policy." And so matters within the
            movement against slavery went, with increasing
            momentum, from bad to worse.

         </p>
         <p>
            The break in the anti-slavery ranks widened as new
            causes of controversy arose between the management
            in Boston and the management at New York. The
            Massachusetts Abolitionists had stood stanchly by
            Garrison against the clerical schismatics. They also
            inclined to his side in his trouble with the national
            board. Instead of one common center of activity and
            leadership the anti-slavery reform began now to
            develop two centers of activity and leadership. Garrison
            and the <i>Liberator</i> formed the moral nucleus at
            <a class="newpage" name="P_286" id="P_286" title="P_286"></a>
            one end, the Executive Committee and the
            <i>Emancipator</i>
            the moral nucleus at the other. Much of the energies
            of the two sides were in those circumstances,
            absorbed in stimulating and completing the processes
            which were to ultimate in the organic division
            of the body of the movement against slavery. When
            men once begin to quarrel they will not stop for lack
            of subjects to dispute over. There will be no lack,
            for before one disputed point is settled another has
            arisen. It is the old story of the box of evils. Beginnings
            must be avoided, else if one evil escapes, others
            will follow. The anti-slavery Pandora had let out one
            little imp of discord and many big and little imps
            were incontinently following.

         </p>
         <p>
            Against all of the new ideas except one, viz., the
            idea of anti-slavery political action, the New York
            leadership, speaking broadly, had opposed itself. But
            as if by some strange perversity of fate, this particular
            new idea was the only one of the new ideas to
            which the Boston leadership did not take kindly. It
            became in time as the very apple of the eye to the
            management of the National Society. And the more
            ardently it was cherished by them, the more hateful
            did it become with the Boston Board. It was the
            only one of the new ideas which had any logical
            sequence from the Abolition cause. In a country
            where the principle of popular suffrage obtains, all
            successful moral movements must sometime ultimate
            in political action. There is no other way of fixing in
            laws the changes in public sentiment wrought during
            this period of agitation. The idea of political action
            was therefore a perfectly natural growth from the
            moral movement against slavery. The only reasonable
            <a class="newpage" name="P_287" id="P_287" title="P_287"></a>
            objection to it would be one which went to show
            that it had arrived out of due course, that its appearance
            at any given time was marked by prematurity in
            respect of the reasons, so to speak, of the reform.
            For every movement against a great social wrong
            as was the anti-slavery movement must have its
            John-the-Baptist stage, its period of popular awakening
            to the nature and enormity of sin and the duty
            of immediate repentance.

         </p>
         <p>
            The anti-slavery enterprise was at the time of the
            controversy between the New York and the Boston
            Boards in this first stage of its growth. It had not
            yet progressed naturally out of it into its next phase
            of political agitation. True there were tendencies
            more or less strong to enter the second stage of its
            development, but they seem irregular, personal, and
            forced. The time had not come for the adoption of
            the principle of associated political action against
            slavery. But the deep underlying motive of the advocates
            of the third-party idea was none the less a grand
            one, viz., "to have a free Northern nucleus," as Elizur
            Wright put it, "a standard flung to the breeze&#8212;something
            around which to rally." Garrison probed to
            the quick the question in a passage of an address to
            the Abolitionists, which is here given: "Abolitionists!
            you are now feared and respected by all political
            parties, not because of the number of votes you
            can throw, so much as in view of the moral integrity
            and sacred regard to principle which you have
            exhibited to the country. It is the religious aspect of
            your enterprise which impresses and overawes men
            of every sect and party. Hitherto you have seemed
            to be actuated by no hope of preferment or love of
            <a class="newpage" name="P_288" id="P_288" title="P_288"></a>
            power, and therefore have established, even in the
            minds of your enemies, confidence in your disinterestedness.
            If you shall now array yourselves as a
            political party, and hold out mercenary rewards to
            induce men to rally under your standard, there is
            reason to fear that you will be regarded as those who
            have made the anti-slavery cause a hobby to ride into
            office, however plausible or sound may be your pretexts
            for such a course. You cannot, you ought not,
            to expect that the political action of the State will
            move faster than the religious action of the Church,
            in favor of the abolition of slavery; and it is a fact
            not less encouraging than undeniable, that both the
            Whig and Democratic parties have consulted the
            wishes of Abolitionists even beyond the measure of
            their real political strength. More you cannot expect
            under any circumstances."

         </p>
         <p>
            Hotly around this point raged the strife among
            brethren. Actuated by the noblest motives were
            both sides in the main, yet, both sides displayed in
            the maintenance of their respective positions an
            amount of weak human nature, which proves that
            perfection is not attainable even by the most disinterested
            of men. Harsh and abusive language
            good men uttered against good men. Distrust,
            suspicion, anger, and alienation took possession of
            the thoughts of the grandest souls. Saints and
            heroes beseemed themselves like very ordinary folk,
            who, when they come to differences, come directly
            afterward to high words and thumping blows. The
            love of David and Jonathan which once united Garrison
            and Phelps, has died. Garrison and Stanton
            meet and only exchange civilities. They, too, have
            <a class="newpage" name="P_289" id="P_289" title="P_289"></a>
            become completely alienated, and so on down the
            long list of the "goodliest fellowship ... whereof
            this land holds record." To a sweet and gentle
            spirit like Samuel J. May, the acrimony and scenes
            of strife among his old associates was unspeakably
            painful. Writing to Garrison from South Scituate,
            May 1, 1839, he touches thus upon this head: "I
            now think I shall not go to New York next week. In
            the first place, I cannot afford the expense.... But
            I confess, I do not lament my inability to go so much
            as I should do if the prospect of an agreeable meeting
            was fairer. I am apprehensive that it will be not
            so much an anti-slavery as anti-Garrison and anti-Phelps
            meeting, or anti-board-of-managers and anti-executive
            committee meeting. Division has done its
            work, I fear, effectually. The two parties seem to
            me to misunderstand, and therefore sadly misrepresent
            one another. I am not satisfied with the course
            you and your partisans have pursued. It appears to
            me not consistent with the non-resistant, patient,
            long-suffering spirit of the Gospel. And I do not
            believe that either the cause of the slave, or the cause
            of peace and righteousness has been advanced."

         </p>
         <p>
            The situation was further complicated by the discovery
            of a fresh bone of contention. As if to give
            just a shade of sordidness to the strife there must
            needs arise a money difficulty between the two rival
            boards of leaders. This is how our recent band of
            brothers happened to stumble upon their new apple
            of discord. Soon after the formation of the National
            Society an arrangement was made with each of the
            State societies whereby they agreed to operate financially
            their respective territories and to turn into the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_290" id="P_290" title="P_290"></a>
            national treasury the several sums which at the
            annual meeting they obligated themselves to contribute
            to the general work. This arrangement was
            intended to avoid the expense, conflict, and confusion
            consequent upon the employment of two sets of
            agents to work the same territory. Matters went on
            quite smoothly under this plan between the Massachusetts
            Board and the National Board until the beginning
            of the year 1839, when the former fell into
            arrears in the payment of its instalments to the latter.
            Money from one cause or another, was hard to get
            at by the Massachusetts Board, and the treasury in
            New York was in an extremely low state. The relations
            between the two boards were, as we have seen,
            much strained and neither side was in the mood to
            cover with charity the shortcomings of the other.
            Perhaps the board at New York was too exacting,
            perhaps the board at Boston was not sufficiently
            zealous, under the circumstances. But what were the
            real irritating causes which kept the two boards
            at loggerheads over the matter need not here be
            determined. This fact is clear that the arrangement
            was rescinded by the New York management, and
            their agents thrown into Massachusetts. This action
            only added fuel to a fire which was fast assuming
            the proportions of a conflagration. All the anti-Garrisonians
            formed themselves into a new anti-slavery
            society, and the National Board, as if to burn
            its bridges, and to make reconciliation impossible,
            established a new paper in Boston in opposition to
            the <i>Liberator</i>. The work of division was ended.
            There was no longer any vital connection between
            the two warring members of the anti-slavery reform.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_291" id="P_291" title="P_291"></a>
            To tear the dead tissues asunder which still joined
            them, all that was wanted was another sharp shock,
            and this came at the annual meeting of the National
            Society in 1840 over the woman's question. The
            issue, "Shall a woman serve with men on a committee?"
            was precipitated upon the convention by
            the appointment of that brilliant young Quakeress,
            Abby Kelley, on the business committee with ten
            men. The convention confirmed her appointment by
            about a hundred majority in a total vote of 1,008.
            Whereupon those opposed to this determination of
            the question, withdrew from the convention and
            organized the American and Foreign Anti-Slavery
            Society. Garrison had triumphed and he was
            immensely elated with his victory. His moral leadership
            was definitely established, never again to be
            disputed by his disciples and followers.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_292" id="P_292" title="P_292"></a></p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap15"></a>
            CHAPTER XV.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            RANDOM SHOTS.

         </h2>
         <p>
            The division of the anti-slavery organization into
            two distinct societies did not immediately terminate
            the war between them. From New York and the
            American society the contest over the woman's
            question was almost directly shifted after the triumph
            of the Garrisonians in the convention, to London
            and the World's Convention, which was held in
            the month of June of the year 1840. To this anti-slavery
            congress both of the rival anti-slavery organizations
            in America elected delegates. These delegates,
            chosen by the older society and by its auxiliaries
            of the States of Massachusetts and Pennsylvania,
            were composed of women and men. Lucretia
            Mott was not only chosen by the National Society,
            but by the Pennsylvania Society as well. The Massachusetts
            Society selected Lydia Maria Child, Maria
            Weston Chapman, and Ann Green Phillips together
            with their husbands among its list of delegates. England
            at this time was much more conservative on the
            woman's question than America. The managers of
            the World's Convention did not take kindly to the
            notion of women members, and signified to the American
            societies who had placed women among their
            delegates that the company of the women was not expected.
            Those societies, however, made no alteration
            <a class="newpage" name="P_293" id="P_293" title="P_293"></a>
            in deference to this notice, in the character of their
            delegations, but stood stoutly by their principle of
            "the <b>EQUAL BROTHERHOOD</b> of the entire
            <b>HUMAN FAMILY</b>
            without distinction of color, sex, or clime."

         </p>
         <p>
            A contest over the admission of women to membership
            in the World's Convention was therefore a foregone
            conclusion. The convention, notwithstanding a
            brilliant fight under the lead of Wendell Phillips in
            behalf of their admission, refused to admit the women
            delegates. The women delegates instead of having
            seats on the floor were forced in consequence of this
            decision to look on from the galleries. Garrison,
            who with Charles Lenox Remond, Nathaniel P. Rogers,
            and William Adams, was late in arriving in England,
            finding, on reaching London the women excluded
            from the convention and sitting as spectators in
            the galleries, determined to take his place among
            them, deeming that the act of the convention which
            discredited the credentials of Lucretia Mott and her
            sister delegates, had discredited his own also. Remond,
            Rogers, and Adams followed his example and
            took their places with the rejected women delegates
            likewise. The convention was scandalized at such
            proceedings, and did its best to draw Garrison and
            his associates from the ladies in the galleries to the
            men on the floor, but without avail. There they remained
            an eloquent protest against the masculine
            narrowness of the convention. Defeated in New York,
            the delegates of the new American and Foreign Anti-Slavery
            Society triumphed over their victors in London.
            But their achievements in the World's Convention,
            in this regard, was not of a sort to entitle them
            to point with any special pride in after years; and, as
            <a class="newpage" name="P_294" id="P_294" title="P_294"></a>
            a matter of fact, not one of them would have probably
            cared to have their success alluded to in any sketch
            of their lives for the perusal of posterity.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison and his associates were the recipients of
            the most cordial and flattering attention from the
            English Abolitionists. He was quite lionized, in fact,
            at breakfasts, f&ecirc;tes, and soir&eacute;es. The Duchess of
            Sunderland paid him marked attention and desired
            his portrait, which was done for Her Grace by the celebrated
            artist, Benjamin Robert Haydon, who executed
            besides a large painting of the convention, in which
            he grouped the most distinguished members with reference
            to the seats actually occupied by them during
            its sessions. Of course to leave Garrison out of such
            a picture would almost seem like the play of "Hamlet"
            with <i>Hamlet</i> omitted, a blunder which the artist
            was by no means disposed to make. Garrison was
            accordingly invited to sit to him for his portrait.
            Haydon, who it seems was a student of human nature
            as well as of the human form, made the discovery of
            a fact which at first surprised and angered him. In
            making his groupings of heads he decided to place
            together the Rev. John Scoble, George Thompson
            and Charles Lenox Remond. When Scoble sat to
            him, Haydon told him of his design in this regard.
            But, remarked Haydon, Scoble "sophisticated immediately
            on the propriety of placing the negro in the
            distance, as it would have much greater effect." The
            painter now applied his test to Thompson who "saw
            no objection." Thompson did not bear the test to
            Haydon's satisfaction, who observed that "A man
            who wishes to place the negro on a level must no
            longer regard him as having been a slave, and feel
            <a class="newpage" name="P_295" id="P_295" title="P_295"></a>
            annoyed at sitting by his side." But when the artist
            approached Garrison on the subject it was wholly
            different. "I asked him," Haydon records with obvious
            pleasure, "and he met me at once directly."

         </p>
         <p>
            Thompson was not altogether satisfactory to Garrison
            either during this visit as the following extract
            from one of his letters to his wife evinces: "Dear
            Thompson has not been strengthened to do battle for
            us, as I had confidently hoped he would be. He is
            placed in a difficult position, and seems disposed to
            take the ground of non-committal, publicly, respecting
            the controversy which is going on in the United
            States."

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison, Rogers, and Remond in the company of
            Thompson made a delightful trip into Scotland at
            this time. Everywhere the American Abolitionists
            were met with distinguished attentions. "Though I
            like England much, on many accounts," Garrison
            writes home in high spirits, "I can truly say that I
            like Scotland better." An instance, which may be
            coupled with that one furnished by Haydon, occurred
            during this Scottish tour, and illustrates strongly the
            kind of stuff of which he was made. On his way to
            the great public reception tendered the American
            delegates by the Glasgow Emancipation Society, a
            placard with the caption, <em>"Have we no white slaves?"</em>
            was put into his hands. Upon acquainting himself
            with its contents he determined to read it to the meeting,
            and to make it the text of remarks when he was
            called upon to address the meeting. He was presently
            announced and the immense audience greeted him
            with every manifestation of pleasure and enthusiasm,
            with loud cheering and waving of handkerchiefs.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_296" id="P_296" title="P_296"></a>
            Nevertheless he held to his purpose to speak upon
            the subject of the placard, unwelcome though it
            should prove to his hearers. "After reading the interrogation,
            I said in reply: 'No&#8212;broad as is the
            empire, and extensive as are the possessions of Great
            Britain, not a single <em>white</em><b> SLAVE</b> can be
            found in them all;' and I then went on to show the wide difference
            that exists between the condition of human
            beings who are held and treated as chattels personal,
            and that of those who are only suffering from certain
            forms of political injustice or governmental oppression....
            'But,' I said, 'although it is not true that
            England has any <em>white</em> slaves, either at home or
            abroad, is it not true that there are thousands of her
            population, both at home and abroad, who are deprived
            of their just rights, who are grievously oppressed,
            who are dying even in the midst of abundance,
            of actual starvation? <b>YES</b>!' and I expressly
            called upon British Abolitionists to prove themselves
            the true friends of suffering humanity abroad, by
            showing that they were the best friend of suffering
            humanity at home." Truth, justice, duty, always
            overrode with him the proprieties, however sacredly
            esteemed by others. Of a piece with this fact of the
            placard of the <em>white slave</em> was his custom in refusing
            the wine proffered by some of his British friends to
            their guests. He was not content with a simple refusal
            and the implied rebuke which it involved, he
            must needs couple his declaration with an express rebuke
            to host and hostess for tempting men into the
            downward way to drunkenness.

         </p>
         <p>
            While in attendance upon the sessions of the
            World's Convention Garrison received tidings, of the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_297" id="P_297" title="P_297"></a>
            birth of his third child. The second, whom he named
            for himself, was born in 1838. The third, who was
            also a son, the fond father named after Wendell Phillips.
            Three children and a wife did not tend to a solution
            of the always difficult problem of family maintenance.
            The pressure of their needs upon the husband
            sometimes, simple as indeed they were owing to
            the good sense and prudence of Mrs. Garrison,
            seemed to exceed the weight of the atmospheric column
            to the square inch. The fight for bread was one
            of the bitterest battles of the reformer's life. The arrangement
            made in 1837, whereby the Massachusetts
            Anti-Slavery Society assumed the responsibility of the
            publication of the <i>Liberator</i>, Garrison rescinded
            at the beginning of 1838, for the sake of giving himself
            greater freedom in the advocacy in its columns of the
            several other reforms in which he had enlisted, besides
            Abolitionism. But Garrison and the paper were
            now widely recognized as anti-slavery essentials and
            indispensables. Many of the leaders of the movement
            perceived, as Gerritt Smith expressed it in a letter enclosing
            fifty dollars for the editor, that "Among the
            many things in which the Abolitionists of our country
            should be agreed, are the two following: (1) The
            <i>Liberator</i> must be sustained; (2) its editor must
            be kept above want; not only, nor mainly, for his own
            or his family's happiness; but that, having his own
            mind unembarrassed by the cares of griping poverty,
            he may be a more effective advocate of the cause of
            the Saviour's enslaved poor." A new arrangement, in
            accordance with this suggestion for the support of
            the paper and the preservation of the editor from
            want, was made in 1839, and its performance taken
            <a class="newpage" name="P_298" id="P_298" title="P_298"></a>
            in charge by a committee of gentlemen, who undertook
            to raise the necessary funds for those objects.
            Thus it was that Garrison, through the wise and generous
            provision of friends, was enabled to augment
            the happiness of an increasing family, and at the same
            time add to his own effectiveness as an anti-slavery
            instrument.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison found occasion soon after his return from
            the World's Convention for the employment of all
            his added effectiveness for continuing the moral
            movement against slavery. For what with the strife
            and schism in the anti-slavery ranks, followed by the
            excitements of the long Presidential canvass of 1840,
            wherein the great body of the Abolitionists developed
            an uncontrollable impulse to political action, some
            through the medium of the new Liberty party which
            had nominated James G. Birney for the Presidency,
            while others reverted to the two old parties with
            which they had formerly acted&#8212;what with all these
            causes the pure moral movement started by Garrison
            was in grave danger of getting abolished or at least
            of being reduced to a nullity in its influence upon
            public opinion. John A. Collins, the able and resourceful
            general agent of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery
            Society, wrote in the deepest anxiety to Garrison
            from New Bedford, September 1, 1840, on this
            head. Says he: "I really wish you understood perfectly
            the exact position the friends of the old organization
            hold to the two great political parties, and
            how generally they have been caught up in the whirlwind
            of political enthusiasm. Could you but go
            where I have been, and have seen and heard what I
            have seen and heard; could you see men&#8212;aye, and
            <a class="newpage" name="P_299" id="P_299" title="P_299"></a>
            women, too&#8212;who have been and still are your warmest
            advocates, who have eschewed sectarianism, and
            lost their caste in the circle in which they moved, for
            their strong adherence to your views and measures,
            declare that they would sooner forego their Abolitionism
            than their party.... Now, these are not the
            views of here and there a straggling Abolitionist, but
            of seven-tenths of all the voting Abolitionists of the
            State.... They are entirely unconscious of the
            demoralizing influence of their course. They need
            light, warning, entreaty, and rebuke." Besides this demoralization
            of the Abolitionists, as described by Collins,
            the parent society at New York fell into bad
            financial straits. It was absolutely without funds,
            and without any means of supplying the lack. What
            should it do in its extremity but appeal to the Massachusetts
            Society which was already heavily burdened
            by its own load, the <i>Liberator</i>. The new organ of
            the national organization,
            <i>The Anti-Slavery Standard</i>,
            surely must not be allowed to fail for want of funds
            in this emergency. The Boston management rose to
            the occasion. Collins was sent to England in quest
            of contributions from the Abolitionists of Great
            Britain. But, great as was the need of money, the
            relief which it might afford would only prove temporary
            unless there could be effected a thorough anti-slavery
            revival. This was vital. And therefore
            to this end Garrison now bent his remarkable
            energies.

         </p>
         <p>
            Agents, during this period when money was scarce,
            were necessarily few. But the pioneer proved a host
            in himself. Resigning the editorial charge of the
            <i>Liberator</i> into the capable hands of Edmund
            Quincy,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_300" id="P_300" title="P_300"></a>
            Garrison itinerated in the r&ocirc;le of an anti-slavery lecturer
            in Massachusetts, Connecticut, and New Hampshire,
            reviving everywhere the languishing interest of
            his disciples. On the return of Collins in the summer
            of 1841, revival meetings and conventions started
            up with increased activity, the fruits of which were of
            a most cheering character. At Nantucket, Garrison
            made a big catch in his anti-slavery net. It was
            Frederick Douglass, young, callow, and awkward, but
            with his splendid and inimitable gifts flashing
            through all as he, for the first time in his life, addressed
            an audience of white people. Garrison, with
            the instinct of leadership, saw at once the value of the
            runaway slave's oratorical possibilities in their relations
            to the anti-slavery movement. It was at his
            instance that Collins added Douglass to the band of
            anti-slavery agents. The new agent has preserved
            his recollections of the pioneer's speech on that
            eventful evening in Nantucket. Says he: "Mr.
            Garrison followed me, taking me as his text; and
            now, whether I had made an eloquent plea in
            behalf of freedom or not, his was one never to be
            forgotten. Those who had heard him oftenest, and
            had known him longest, were astonished at his masterly
            effort. For the time he possessed that almost
            fabulous inspiration, often referred to but seldom
            attained, in which a public meeting is transformed,
            as it were, into a single individuality, the orator
            swaying a thousand heads and hearts at once, and by
            the simple majesty of his all-controlling thought,
            converting his hearers into the express image of his
            own soul. That night there were, at least, a thousand
            Garrisonians in Nantucket!"

         </p>
         <p><a class="newpage" name="P_301" id="P_301" title="P_301"></a>
            Here is another picture of Garrison in the lecture-field.
            It is from the pen of N.P. Rogers, with whom
            he was making a week's tour among the White Mountains,
            interspersing the same with anti-slavery meetings.
            At Plymouth, failing to procure the use of a
            church for their purpose, they fell back upon the
            temple not made with hands.

         </p>
         <p>
            "Semi-circular seats, backed against a line of magnificent
            trees to accommodate, we should judge, from
            two to three hundred," Rogers narrates, "were filled,
            principally with women, and the men who could not
            find seats stood on the green sward on either hand;
            and, at length, when wearied with standing, seated
            themselves on the ground. Garrison, mounted on a
            rude platform in front, lifted up his voice and spoke
            to them in prophet tones and surpassing eloquence,
            from half-past three till I saw the rays of the setting
            sun playing through the trees on his head....
            They (the auditory) heeded it not any more than he,
            but remained till he ended, apparently indisposed to
            move, though some came from six, eight, and even
            twelve miles distance." So bravely prospered the
            revival agitation, under the vigorous preaching of
            the indomitable pioneer.

         </p>
         <p>
            In the midst of the growing activities of the revival
            season of the anti-slavery movement, Garrison had
            some personal experiences of a distressing nature.
            One of these was the case of his quondam friend and
            partner in the publication of the <i>Liberator</i>,
            Isaac Knapp. He, poor fellow, was no longer the publisher
            of the paper. His wretched business management of
            his department tended to keep the <i>Liberator</i> in a
            state of chronic financial embarrassment. When the committee,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_302" id="P_302" title="P_302"></a>
            who assumed charge of the finances of the
            paper, took hold of the problem, they determined to
            let Knapp go. He was paid $150 or $175 as a <i>quid
               pro quo</i> for his interest in the <i>Liberator</i>.
            Unfortunate in the business of a publisher, he was yet more unfortunate
            in another respect. He had become a victim
            of intemperance. His inebriety increased upon him,
            accelerated, no doubt, by his business failure. Notwithstanding
            Garrison's strong and tender friendship
            for Knapp, the broken man came to regard him as an
            enemy, and showed in many ways his jealousy and
            hatred of his old friend and partner. Very painful
            was this experience to the pioneer.

         </p>
         <p>
            An experience which touched Garrison more
            nearly arose out of the sad case of his brother James,
            who, the reader will recall, ran away from his mother
            in Baltimore and went to sea. He ultimately enlisted
            in the United States Navy, and what with the brutalities
            which he suffered at the hands of his superiors,
            by way of discipline, and with those of his own uncontrolled
            passions and appetites, he was, when recovered
            by his brother William, a total moral and physical
            wreck. But the prodigal was gathered to the
            reformer's heart, and taken to his home where in
            memory of a mother long dead, whose darling was
            James, he was nursed and watched over with deep
            and pious love. There were sad lapses of the profligate
            man even in the sanctuary of his brother's home.
            The craving for liquor was omnipotent in the wretched
            creature, and he was attacked by uncontrollable
            desire for drink. But William's patience was infinite,
            and his yearning and pity at such times were as sweet
            and strong as a mother's. Death rung the curtain down
            <a class="newpage" name="P_303" id="P_303" title="P_303"></a>
            in the fall of 1842, on this miserable life with its sorry
            and pathetic scenes.

         </p>
         <p>
            About this time a trial of a different sort fell to the
            lot of Garrison to endure. The tongue of detraction
            was never more busy with his alleged infidel doctrines
            or to more damaging effect. Collins, in England,
            seeking to obtain contributions for the support
            of the agitation in America found Garrison's infidelity
            the <i>great lion</i> in the way of success. Even the
            good dispositions of the venerable Clarkson were
            affected by the injurious reports in this regard, circulated
            in England mainly by Nathaniel Colver, a narrow
            and violent sectary of the Baptist denomination
            of the United States. It was, of course, painful to
            Garrison to feel that he had become a rock of offence
            in the path of the great movement, which he had
            started and to which he was devoting himself so
            energetically. To Elizabeth Pease, one of the noblest
            of the English Abolitionists, and one of his stanchest
            transatlantic friends, he defended himself against the
            false and cruel statements touching his religious
            beliefs. "I esteem the Holy Scriptures," he wrote her,
            "above all other books in the universe, and always
            appeal to 'the law and the testimony' to prove all my
            peculiar doctrines." His religious sentiments and
            Sabbatical views are almost if not quite identical with
            those held by the Quakers. "I believe in an indwelling
            Christ," he goes on to furnish a summary of his
            confession of faith, "and in His righteousness alone;
            I glory in nothing here below, save in Christ and in
            Him crucified; I believe all the works of the devil are to
            be destroyed, and Our Lord is to reign from sea to
            sea, even to the ends of the earth; and I profess to
            <a class="newpage" name="P_304" id="P_304" title="P_304"></a>
            have passed from death unto life, and know by happy
            experience, that there is no condemnation to them
            who are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh,
            but after the spirit." These were the pioneer's articles
            of faith. Their extreme simplicity and theological
            conservatism it would seem ought to have satisfied
            the evangelicals of all denominations. They were in
            essentials thoroughly orthodox. But in the composition
            of the shibboleths of beliefs non-essentials as
            well as essentials enter, the former to the latter in the
            proportion of two to one. It is not surprising, therefore,
            that Garrison's essentials proved unequal to the
            test set up by sectarianism, inasmuch as his spiritual
            life dropped the aspirate of the non-essentials of religious
            forms and observances.

         </p>
         <p>
            But the good man had his compensation as well as
            his trials. Such of a very noble kind was the great
            Irish address brought over from Ireland by Remond
            in December 1841. It was signed by Daniel O'Connell,
            Father Mathew, and sixty thousand Roman
            Catholics of Ireland, who called upon the Irish
            Roman Catholics of America to make the cause of the
            slaves of the United States their cause. Large expectations
            of Irish assistance in the anti-slavery agitation
            were excited in the bosoms of Abolitionists by
            this imposing appeal. Garrison shared the high hopes
            of its beneficent influence upon the Ireland of America,
            with many others. Alas! for the "best laid schemes
            of mice and men," for the new Ireland was not populated
            with saints, but a fiercely human race who had
            come to their new home to better their own condition,
            not that of the negro. Hardly had they
            touched these shores before they were Americanized
            <a class="newpage" name="P_305" id="P_305" title="P_305"></a>
            in the colorphobia sense, out-Heroded Herod in
            hatred of the colored people and their anti-slavery
            friends. Indeed, it was quite one thing to preach Abolitionism
            with three thousand miles of sea-wall between
            one and his audience, and quite another to rise and do
            the preaching with no sea-wall to guard the preacher
            from the popular consequences of his preaching, as
            Father Mathew quickly perceived and reduced to
            practice eight years later, when he made his memorable
            visit to this country. In vain was the monster document
            unrolled in Faneuil Hall, and many Abolitionists
            with Irish blood were put forward to sweep the
            chords of Erin's heart, and to conjure by their eloquence
            the disciples of St. Patrick to rally under the
            banner of freedom. There was no response, except
            the response of bitter foes. Erin's harp vibrated to
            no breeze which did not come out of the South. The
            slave-power had been erected into patron saint by
            the new Ireland in America, and the new Ireland in
            America was very well content with his saintship's patronage
            and service. Thus it happened that the great
            expectations, which were excited by the Irish address,
            were never realized. But the pioneer had other fish
            in his net, had, in fact, meanwhile, got himself in
            readiness for a launch into a new and startling agitation.
            As to just what this new and startling agitation
            was we must refer the reader to the next
            chapter.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_306" id="P_306" title="P_306"></a></p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap16"></a>
            CHAPTER XVI.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            THE PIONEER MAKES A NEW AND STARTLING DEPARTURE.

         </h2>
         <p>
            When Garrison hoisted the banner of immediate
            emancipation he was over-confident of success
            through the instrumentality of the church. It did
            not enter his heart to conceive that after he had delivered
            his message touching the barbarism of slavery
            that a church calling itself Christian, or that a ministry
            arrogating to itself the character of the Christ,
            could possibly say him nay. But he learned sadly
            enough the utter folly of such expectations. For
            from pew and pulpit the first stones were hurled
            against him, and the most cruel and persistent opposition
            and persecution issued. Then as the movement
            which he had started advanced, he saw how it
            was, why the church had played him false and the
            cause of freedom. It was because the poison of slavery
            which the evil one had injected into the nation's
            arteries had corrupted the springs of justice and
            mercy in that body. The Church was not free, it, too,
            was in bonds to slavery, how then could it help to
            free the slaves? That was the reason that pulpit and
            pew cried out against him and persecuted him. It
            was not they but the slave despotism, which ruled
            them, which wrought its fell purpose within them.

         </p>
         <p><a class="newpage" name="P_307" id="P_307" title="P_307"></a>
            If the reformer cast his eyes about him for other
            help it was the same; the slime of the serpent was
            upon State as well as Church. Both of the two great
            political parties were bound hands and feet, and given
            over to the will of the slave tyranny. In all departments
            of Government, State and National, the positive,
            all-powerful principle was slavery. Its dread
            <i>nolo me tangere</i> had forced Congress into the
            denial of the right of petition, and into the imposition of a gag
            upon its own freedom of debate. It was the grand
            President-maker, and the judiciary bent without a
            blush to do its service. What, then, in these circumstances
            could the friends of freedom hope to achieve?
            The nation had been caught in the snare of slavery,
            and was in Church and State helpless in the vast
            spider-like web of wrong. The more the reformer
            pondered the problem, the more hopeless did success
            look under a Constitution which united right and
            wrong, freedom and slavery. As his reflections deepened,
            the conviction forced its way into his mind that
            the Union was the strong tower of the slave-power,
            which could never be destroyed until the fortress
            which protected it was first utterly demolished. In
            the spring of 1842 the pioneer was prepared to strike
            into this new path to effect his purpose.

         </p>
         <p>
            "We must dissolve all connection with those murderers
            of fathers," he wrote his brother-in-law, "and
            murderers of mothers, and murderers of liberty, and
            traffickers of human flesh, and blasphemers against
            the Almighty at the South. What have we in common
            with them? What have we gained? What have we
            not lost by our alliance with them? Are not their principles,
            their pursuits, their policies, their interests,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_308" id="P_308" title="P_308"></a>
            their designs, their feelings, utterly diverse from ours?
            Why, then, be subject to their dominion? Why not
            have the Union dissolved in form as it is in fact, especially
            if the form gives ample protection to the
            slave system, by securing for it all the physical force
            of the North? It is not treason against the cause of
            liberty to cry, "Down with every slave-holding
            Union!" Therefore, I raise that cry. And O that I
            had a voice louder than a thousand thunders, that it
            might shake the land and electrify the dead&#8212;the
            dead in sin, I mean&#8212;those slain by the hand of
            slavery."

         </p>
         <p>
            A few weeks later the first peal of this thunder
            broke upon the startled ears of the country through
            the columns of the <i>Liberator</i>. The May meeting of
            the American Anti-Slavery Society was drawing near,
            and the reformer, now entirely ready to enter upon
            an agitation looking to the dissolution of the Union,
            suggested "the duty of making the <b>REPEAL OF
               THE UNION</b> between the North and the South the
            grand rallying point until it be accomplished, or
            slavery cease to pollute our soil. We are for throwing
            all the means, energies, actions, purposes, and appliances
            of the genuine friends of liberty and republicanism
            into this one channel," he goes on to announce,
            "and for measuring the humanity, patriotism, and
            piety of every man by this one standard. This question
            can no longer be avoided, and a right decision
            of it will settle the controversy between freedom and
            slavery." The stern message of Isaiah to the Jews,
            beginning, "Hear the word of the Lord, ye scornful
            men that rule this people. Because ye have said, We
            have made a covenant with <b>DEATH</b>
            and with <b>HELL</b> are
            <a class="newpage" name="P_309" id="P_309" title="P_309"></a>
            we at agreement," seemed to the American Isaiah to
            describe exactly the character of the National Constitution.
            "Slavery is a combination of <b>DEATH</b> and
            <b>HELL</b>," he declares, with righteous wrath,
            "and with it the North have made a covenant, and are at agreement.
            As an element of the Government it is omnipotent,
            omniscient, omnipresent. As a component
            part of the Union, it is necessarily a national interest.
            Divorced from Northern protection, it dies; with
            that protection it enlarges its boundaries, multiplies
            its victims, and extends its ravages."

         </p>
         <p>
            The announcement of this new radicalism caused a
            sensation. Many genuine Garrisonian Abolitionists
            recoiled from a policy of disunion. Lydia Maria
            Child and James S. Gibbon of the Executive Committee
            of the National Society hastened to disavow for
            the society all responsibility for the disunion sentiment
            of the editor of the <i>Liberator</i>. His new
            departure seemed to them "foreign to the purpose for which
            it was organized." Like all new ideas, it was a sword-bearer,
            and proved a decided disturber of the peace.
            The Union-loving portion of the free States had never
            taken to the Abolition movement, for the reason that
            it tended to disturb the stability of their idol. But
            now the popular hatred of Abolitionism was intensified
            by the avowal of a distinct purpose on the part
            of its leader to labor for the separation of the sections.
            The press of the North made the most of this
            design to render altogether odious the small band of
            moral reformers, to reduce to a nullity their influence
            upon public opinion.

         </p>
         <p>
            Notwithstanding its rejection by James Gibbons
            and Lydia Maria Child the new idea of the dissolution
            <a class="newpage" name="P_310" id="P_310" title="P_310"></a>
            of the Union, as an anti-slavery object, found instant
            favor with many of the leading Abolitionists,
            like Wendell Phillips, Edmund Quincy, Parker Pillsbury,
            Stephen S. Foster and Abby Kelley. At the
            anniversary meeting of the American Society in 1842,
            the subject was mooted, and, although there was no
            official action taken, yet it was apparent that a majority
            of the delegates were favorable to its adoption
            as the sentiment of the society.

         </p>
         <p>
            The ultimate object of Garrison was the abolition
            of slavery. Disunion led directly to this goal, therefore
            he planted his feet in that way. But while he
            shot the agitation at a distant mark, he did not mean
            to miss less remote results. There was remarkable
            method in his madness. He agitated the question
            of the dissolution of the Union "in order that the
            people of the North might be induced to reflect upon
            their debasement, guilt, and danger in continuing in
            partnership with heaven-daring oppressors, and thus
            be led to repentance."

         </p>
         <p>
            The Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society at its
            annual meeting in January, 1843 "dissolved the
            Union," wrote Quincy to R.D. Webb, "by a handsome
            vote, after a warm debate. The question was
            afterward reconsidered and passed in another shape,
            being wrapped up by Garrison in some of his favorite
            Old Testament Hebraisms by way of vehicle, as the
            apothecaries say." This is the final shape which
            Garrison's "favorite Old Testament Hebraisms"
            gave to the action of the society:

         </p>
         <p>
            "<i>Resolved</i>, That the compact which exists between
            the North and the South is a covenant with death
            and an agreement with hell&#8212;involving both parties
            <a class="newpage" name="P_311" id="P_311" title="P_311"></a>
            in atrocious criminality&#8212;and should be immediately
            annulled."

         </p>
         <p>
            At its tenth anniversary, in 1844, the American
            Society resolved likewise that there should
            be no Union with slaveholders; and in May of the
            same year the New England Society voted by a large
            majority to dissolve the 'covenant with death, and the
            agreement with hell.' Almost the whole number of
            the Garrisonian Abolitionists had by this time placed
            upon their banner of immediate emancipation the
            revolutionary legend "No Union with slaveholders."
            <i>Cathago est delenda</i> were now ever on the lips
            of the pioneer. 'The Union it must and shall be destroyed'
            became the beginning, the middle, and the end of all
            his utterances on the slavery question.

         </p>
         <p>
            The attitude of the anti-slavery disunionists to the
            Government which they were seeking to overthrow
            was clearly stated by Francis Jackson in a letter returning
            to the Governor of Massachusetts his commission
            as a justice of the peace. Says he, "To me
            it appears that the vices of slavery, introduced into the
            constitution of our body politic by a few slight
            punctures, has now so pervaded and poisoned the
            whole system of our National Government that literally
            there is no health in it. The only remedy that
            I can see for the disease is to be found in the <em>dissolution
               of the patient</em>.... Henceforth it (the Constitution)
            is dead to me, and I to it. I withdraw all
            profession of allegiance to it, and all my voluntary
            efforts to sustain it. The burdens that it lays upon
            me, while it is held up by others, I shall endeavor to
            bear patiently, yet acting with reference to a higher
            law, and distinctly declaring that, while I retain my
            <a class="newpage" name="P_312" id="P_312" title="P_312"></a>
            own liberty, I will be a party to no compact which
            helps to rob any other man of his."

         </p>
         <p>
            The Abolition agitation for the dissolution of the
            Union was assisted not a little by sundry occurrences
            of national importance. The increasing arrogance
            and violence of the South in Congress on all
            matters relating to the subject of slavery was one of
            these occurrences. Freedom of debate and the right
            of petition, Southern intolerance had rendered well
            nigh worthless in the National Legislature. In this
            way the North, during several months in every year,
            was forced to look at the reverse and the obverse
            faces, of the Union. These object-lessons taught
            many minds, no doubt, to count the cost which the
            preservation of the Union entailed upon the free
            States&#8212;"to reflect upon their debasement, guilt, and
            danger" in their partnership with slaveholders. Another
            circumstance which induced to this kind of reflection
            was the case of George Latimer, who was
            seized as a fugitive slave in Boston in the autumn of
            1842. From beginning to end the Latimer case revealed
            how completely had Massachusetts tied her
            own hands as a party to the original compact with
            slavery whose will was the supreme law of the land. In
            obedience to this supreme law Chief-Justice Shaw refused
            to the captive the writ of <i>habeas corpus</i>, and
            Judge Story granted the owner possession of the
            fugitive, and time to procure evidence of his ownership.
            But worse still Massachusetts officials and one
            of her jails were employed to aid in the return of a
            man to slavery. This degradation aroused the greatest
            indignation in the State and led to the enactment
            of a law prohibiting its officials from taking part in
            <a class="newpage" name="P_313" id="P_313" title="P_313"></a>
            the return of fugitive slaves, and the use of its jails
            and prisons for their detention. The passage of
            this personal liberty measure served to increase the
            activity of the anti-Union working forces in the
            South.

         </p>
         <p>
            Then, again, the serious difficulty between Massachusetts
            and two of the slave States in regard to their
            treatment of her colored seamen aided Garrison in
            his agitation for the dissolution of the Union by the
            keen sense of insult and injury which the trouble
            begat and left upon the popular mind. Colored men
            in Massachusetts enjoyed a fair degree of equality
            before her laws, were endowed with the right to vote,
            and were, barring the prejudice against color, treated
            by the commonwealth as citizens. They were
            employed in the merchant service of her interstate
            trade. But at two of the Southern ports where her
            vessels entered, the colored seamen were seized by the
            local police and confined in houses of detention until
            the vessels to which they belonged were ready to
            depart, when they were released and allowed to join
            the vessels. This was a most outrageous proceeding,
            outrageous to the colored men who were thus deprived
            of their liberty, outrageous also to the owners of the
            vessels who were deprived of the service of their
            employ&eacute;s. Of what avail was the constitutional guaranty
            that "the citizens of each State shall be
            entitled to all the privileges and immunities of citizens
            in the several States", many men began to question?
            The South was evidently disposed to support only that
            portion of the national compact which sustained the
            slave system, all the rest upon occasion it trampled
            on and nullified. This lesson was enforced anew upon
            <a class="newpage" name="P_314" id="P_314" title="P_314"></a>
            Massachusetts by the affair of her colored seamen.
            Unable to obtain redress of the wrong done her citizens,
            the State appointed agents to go to Charleston
            and New Orleans and test the constitutionality of the
            State laws under which the local authorities had
            acted. But South Carolina and Louisiana, especially
            the former, to whom Samuel Hoar was accredited,
            evinced themselves quite equal to the exigency to
            which the presence of the Massachusetts agents gave
            rise. To cut a long story short, these gentlemen,
            honored citizens of a sister State, and covered with
            the &aelig;gis of the Constitution, found that they could
            make no success of the business which they had in
            hand, found indeed that as soon as that business was
            made public that they stood in imminent peril of
            their lives. Whereupon, wisely conceiving discretion
            to be the better part of valor, they beat a hasty
            retreat back to their native air. The Massachusetts
            agents were driven out of Charleston and New
            Orleans. Where was the sacred and glorious union
            between Massachusetts and South Carolina and Louisiana
            that such things were possible&#8212;were constantly
            occurring? The circumstance made a strong impression
            on the State whose rights were thus grossly violated.
            It helped to convert Massachusetts to its later
            opposition to slavery, and to make its public sentiment
            more tolerant of the Garrisonian opposition to
            the covenant with death and the agreement with hell.
            To the agitation growing out of the scheme for the
            annexation of Texas must, however, be ascribed the
            premium among all the anti-Union working facts and
            forces of the first few years after Garrison and his
            coadjutors had raised the cry of "No union with
            <a class="newpage" name="P_315" id="P_315" title="P_315"></a>
            slaveholders." This agitation renewed the intensity
            and sectionalism of the then almost forgotten struggle
            over the admission of Missouri nearly a quarter
            of a century before, and which was concluded by the
            Missouri compromise. This settlement was at the
            time considered quite satisfactory to the South. But
            Calhoun took an altogether different view of the matter
            twenty years later. The arrangement by which
            the South was excluded from the upper portion of
            the Louisiana Territory he came to regard as a cardinal
            blunder on the part of his section. The fact is that
            within those two decades the slave-holding had been
            completely outstripped by the non-slave-holding
            States in wealth, population, and social growth. The
            latter had obtained over the former States an indisputable
            supremacy in those respects. Would not the
            political balance settle also in the natural order of
            things in the Northern half of the Union unless it
            could be kept where it then was to the south of
            Mason and Dixon's line by an artificial political
            make-weight. This artificial political make-weight
            was nothing less than the acquisition of new slave
            territory to supply the demand for new slave States.
            Texas, with the territorial dimensions of an empire,
            answered the agrarian needs of the slave system. And
            the South, under the leadership of Calhoun, determined
            to make good their fancied loss in the settlement
            of the Missouri controversy by annexing Texas.

         </p>
         <p>
            But all the smouldering dread of slave domination,
            all the passionate opposition to the extension of
            slavery, to the acquisition of new slave territory and
            the admission of new slave States, awoke hotly in
            the heart of the North. "No more slave territory."
            <a class="newpage" name="P_316" id="P_316" title="P_316"></a>
            "No more slave States," resounded during this
            crisis, through the free States. "Texas or disunion,"
            was the counter cry which reverberated
            through the slave States. Even Dr. Channing, who
            had no love for Garrison or his anti-slavery ultraism,
            was so wrought upon by the scheme for the annexation
            of Texas as to profess his preference for the
            dissolution of the Union, "rather than receive Texas
            into the Confederacy." "This measure, besides entailing
            on us evils of all sorts," the doctor boldly
            pointed out, "would have for its chief end to bring
            the whole country under the slave-power, to make
            the general Government the agent of slavery; and
            this we are bound to resist at all hazards. The free
            States should declare that the very act of admitting
            Texas will be construed as a dissolution of the Union."

         </p>
         <p>
            The Northern blood was at fever heat, and an
            unwonted defiance of consequences, a fierce contempt
            of ancient political bugaboos marked the utterances
            of men erstwhile timid of speech upon all questions
            relating to slavery. In the anti-Texas convention
            held in Faneuil Hall January 29, 1845, all this
            timidity disappeared in the presence of the new peril.
            It was not a convention of Abolitionists, although Garrison
            was a member, but of politicians, mostly of the
            Whig party. "The anti-slavery spirit of the convention,"
            wrote Edmund Quincy to R.D. Webb, "was
            surprising. The address and the speeches of the
            gentlemen, not Abolitionists, were such as caused
            Garrison to be mobbed ten years ago, and such as
            we thought thorough three or four years ago. There
            were no qualifications, or excuses, or <em>twaddle</em>."

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison flung himself into the anti-Texas movement
            <a class="newpage" name="P_317" id="P_317" title="P_317"></a>
            with all his customary force and fire. Elected
            a delegate to the Faneuil Hall Convention by the influence
            of Francis Jackson, he took a leading part in its
            proceedings, "created the most stir in the whole matter,"
            Wendell Phillips thought. Charles Sumner,
            who heard him speak for the first time, was struck
            with his "natural eloquence," and described his
            words as falling "in fiery rain." Again at a mass meeting
            for Middlesex County, held at Concord, to consider
            the aggressions of the slave-power, did the words of
            the pioneer fall "in fiery rain." Apprehensive that the
            performance of Massachusetts, when the emergency
            arose, would fall far short of her protestations, he
            exclaimed, "I have nothing to say, sir, nothing. I
            am tired of words, tired of hearing strong things
            said, where there is no heart to carry them out.
            When we are prepared to state the whole truth, and
            die for it, if necessary&#8212;when, like our fathers, we are
            prepared to take our ground, and not shrink from it,
            counting not our lives dear unto us&#8212;when we are
            prepared to let all earthly hopes go back to the
            board&#8212;<em>then</em> let us say so;
            <em>till</em> then, the less we say
            the better, in such an emergency as this. 'But who
            are we, will men ask.' that talk of such things? 'Are
            we enough to make a revolution?' No, sir; but we
            are enough to <em>begin</em> one, and, once begun, it never
            can be turned back. I am for revolution were I
            utterly alone. I am there because I <em>must</em> be there.
            I <em>must</em> cleave to the right. I cannot choose but obey
            the voice of God.

         </p>
         <p>
            " ... Do not tell me of our past Union, and for
            how many years we have been one. We were only
            one while we were ready to hunt, shoot down, and
            <a class="newpage" name="P_318" id="P_318" title="P_318"></a>
            deliver up the slave, and allow the slave-power to
            form an oligarchy on the floor of Congress! The
            moment we say no to this, the Union ceases&#8212;the
            Government falls."

         </p>
         <p>
            The Texan struggle terminated in the usual way,
            in the triumph of the slave-power. Texas was
            annexed and admitted into the sisterhood of States,
            giving to the Southern section increased slave representation
            in both branches of Congress, and thereby
            aiding to fasten, what at the moment appeared to be
            its permanent domination in national affairs. As
            Garrison had apprehended, the performance of the
            North fell far short of its protestations when the
            crisis came. It swallowed all its brave words, and
            collapsed into feeble and disheartened submission to
            its jubilant and hitherto invincible antagonist. The
            whole North except the small and irrepressible band
            of Garrisonian Abolitionists were cast down by the
            revulsive wave of this disastrous event. Writing to
            his friend Webb, Garrison discourses thus upon the
            great defeat: "Apparently the slave-holding power
            has never been so strong, has never seemed to be so
            invincible, has never held such complete mastery over
            the whole, has never so successfully hurled defiance at
            the Eternal and Just One, as at the present time; and
            yet never has it in reality been so weak, never has it
            had so many uncompromising assailants, never has it
            been so filled with doubt and consternation, never
            has it been so near its downfall, as at this moment.
            Upon the face of it, this statement looks absurdly
            paradoxical; but it is true, nevertheless. We are
            groping in thick darkness; but it is that darkest
            hour which is said to precede the dawn of day."
            <a class="newpage" name="P_319" id="P_319" title="P_319"></a></p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap17"></a>
            CHAPTER XVII.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            AS IN A LOOKING GLASS.

         </h2>
         <p>
            Garrison was the most dogmatic, as he was the
            most earnest of men. It was almost next to impossible
            for him to understand that his way was not the
            only way to attain a given end. A position reached
            by him, he was curiously apt to look upon as a sort
            of <i>ultima thule</i> of human endeavor in that
            direction of the moral universe. And, notwithstanding instances
            of honest self-depreciation, there, nevertheless, hung
            around his personality an air and assumption of
            moral infallibility, as a reformer. His was not a
            tolerant mind. Differences with him he was prone to
            treat as gross departures from principle, as evidences
            of faithlessness to freedom. He fell upon the men
            who did not see eye to eye with him with tomahawk
            and scalping knife. He was strangely deficient in a
            sense of proportion in such matters. His terrible
            severities of speech, he visited upon the slave-power
            and the Liberty party alike. And although a non-resistent,
            in that he eschewed the use of physical
            force, yet there never was born among the sons of
            men a more militant soul in the use of moral force,
            in the quickness with which he would whip out the
            rapiers, or hurl the bolts and bombs of his mother
            tongue at opponents. The pioneer must have been
            an unconscious believer in the annihilation of the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_320" id="P_320" title="P_320"></a>
            wicked, as he must have been an unconscious believer
            in the wickedness of all opposition to his idea of
            right and duty. This, of course, must be taken only
            as a broad description of the reformer's character.
            He was a man, one of the grandest America has
            given to the world, but still a man with his tendon of
            Achilles, like the rest of his kind.

         </p>
         <p>
            His narrow intolerance of the idea of anti-slavery
            political action, and his fierce and unjust censure of
            the champions of that idea, well illustrate the trait in
            point. Birney and Whittier, and Wright and Gerritt
            Smith, and Joshua Leavitt, he apparently quite forgot,
            were actuated by motives singularly noble, were in
            their way as true to their convictions as he was to his.
            No, there was but one right way, and in that way
            stood the feet of the pioneer. His way led directly,
            unerringly, to the land of freedom. All other ways,
            and especially the Liberty party way, twisted, doubled
            upon themselves, branched into labyrinths of folly
            and self-seeking. "Ho! all ye that desire the freedom
            of the slave, who would labor for liberty, follow
            me and I will show you the only true way," was the
            tone which the editor of the <i>Liberator</i> held
            to men, who were battering with might and main to breach
            the walls of the Southern Bastile. They were plainly
            not against the slave, although opposed to Mr. Garrison,
            narrowly, unjustly opposed to him, without
            doubt, but working strenuously according to their
            lights for the destruction of a common enemy and
            tyrant. This was the test, which Garrison should
            have taken as conclusive. The leaders of the Liberty
            party, though personally opposed to him and to his
            line of action, were, nevertheless, friends of the slaves,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_321" id="P_321" title="P_321"></a>
            and ought to have been so accounted and treated by
            the man who more than any other was devoted to the
            abolition of slavery.

         </p>
         <p>
            But the whole mental and moral frame of the man
            precluded such liberality of treatment of opponents.
            They had rejected his way, which was the only true
            way, and were, therefore, anathema maranatha. When
            a moral idea which has been the subject of widespread
            agitation, and has thereby gained a numerous
            following, reaches out, as reach out it must, sooner or
            later, for incorporation into law, it will, in a republic
            like ours, do so naturally and necessarily through
            political action&#8212;along the lines of an organized party
            movement. The Liberty party formation was the
            product of this strong tendency in America. Premature
            it possibly was, but none the less perfectly natural.
            Now every political party, that is worthy of
            the name, is a compound rather than a simple fact,
            consisteth of a bundle of ideas rather than a single
            idea. Parties depend upon the people for success,
            upon the people not of one interest but of many
            interests and of diversities of views upon public questions.
            One plank is not broad enough to accommodate
            their differences and multiplicity of desires.
            There must be a platform built of many planks to
            support the number of votes requisite to victory at
            the polls. There will always be one idea or interest
            of the many ideas or interests, that will dominate the
            organization, be erected into a paramount issue upon
            which the party throws itself upon the country, but
            the secondary ideas or interests must be there all the
            same to give strength and support to the main idea
            and interest.

         </p>
         <p><a class="newpage" name="P_322" id="P_322" title="P_322"></a>
            Besides this peculiarity in the composition of the
            great political parties in America, there is another not
            less distinct and marked, and that is the Constitutional
            limitations of the Federal political power.
            Every party which looks for ultimate success at the
            polls must observe strictly these limitations in its aims
            and issues. Accordingly when the moral movement
            against slavery sought a political expression of the
            idea of Abolition it was constrained within the metes
            and bounds set up by the National Constitution.
            Slavery within the States lay outside of the political
            boundaries of the general Government. Slavery within
            the States, therefore, the more sagacious of the Liberty
            party leaders placed not among its bundle of
            ideas, into its platform of national issues. But it was
            otherwise with slavery in the District of Columbia, in
            the national territories, under the national flag on the
            high seas, for it lay within the constitutional reach of
            the federal political power, and its abolition was
            demanded in the Third party platform. These
            leaders were confident that the existence of slavery
            depended upon its connection with the National Government.
            Their aim was to destroy the evil by cutting
            this connection through which it drew its blood
            and nerve supplies. They planted themselves upon
            the anti-slavery character of the Constitution, believing
            that it "does not sanction nor nationalize slavery
            but condemns and localizes it."

         </p>
         <p>
            This last position of the Liberty party leaders
            struck Garrison as a kind of mental and moral
            enormity. At it and its authors, the anti-slavery
            Jupiter, launched his bolts, fast and furious. Here
            is a specimen of his chain lightning: "We have
            <a class="newpage" name="P_323" id="P_323" title="P_323"></a>
            a very poor opinion of the intelligence of any
            man, and very great distrust of his candor or
            honesty, who tries to make it appear that no pro-slavery
            compromise was made between the North and
            the South, at the adoption of the Constitution. We
            cherish feelings of profound contempt for the quibbling
            spirit of criticism which is endeavoring to explain
            away the meaning of language, the design of
            which as a matter of practice, and the adoption of
            which as a matter of bargain, were intelligently and
            clearly understood by the contracting parties. The
            truth is the misnamed 'Liberty party' is under the
            control of as ambitious, unprincipled, and crafty leaders
            as is either the Whig or Democratic party; and
            no other proof of this assertion is needed than their
            unblushing denial of the great object of the national
            compact, namely, union at the sacrifice of the colored
            population of the United States. Their new interpretations
            of the Constitution are a bold rejection of
            the facts of history, and a gross insult to the intelligence
            of the age, and certainly never can be carried
            into effect without dissolving the Union by provoking
            a civil war." All the same, the pioneer to the contrary
            notwithstanding, many of these very Liberty party
            leaders were men of the most undoubted candor and
            honesty and of extraordinary intelligence.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison was never able to see the Liberty party,
            and for that matter Wendell Phillips, Edmund
            Quincy, and others of the old organization leaders
            could not either, except through the darkened glass
            of personal antagonisms growing out of the schism
            of 1840. It was always, under all circumstances, to
            borrow a phrase of Phillips, "Our old enemy, Liberty
            <a class="newpage" name="P_324" id="P_324" title="P_324"></a>
            party." And, as Quincy na&iuml;vely confesses in an article
            in the <i>Liberator</i> pointing out the
            reasons why Abolitionists should give to the Free-soil party
            incidental aid and comfort, which were forbidden to their
            "old enemy, Liberty party," the significant and
            amusing fact that the latter was "officered by deserters."
            Ay, there was indeed the rub! The military
            principle of the great leader forbade him to
            recognize deserters as allies. Discipline must be
            maintained, and so he proceeded to maintain the
            anti-slavery discipline of his army by keeping up a
            constant fusillade into the ranks of the deserter band,
            who, in turn, were every whit as blinded by the old
            quarrel and separation, and who slyly cherished the
            modest conviction that, when they seceded, the salt
            of old organization lost its savor, and was thenceforth
            fit only to be trampled under the Liberty party's feet.
            Without doubt, those old Abolitionists and Liberty
            party people belonged to the category of "humans."

         </p>
         <p>
            The scales of the old grudge dropped from Garrison's
            eyes directly the Free-Soil party loomed upon
            the political horizon. He recognized at once that, if
            it was not against the slave, it was for the slave; apprehended
            clearly that, in so far as the new party,
            which, by the way, was only the second stage in the
            development of the central idea of his old enemy,
            Liberty party, as the then future Republican party
            was to be its third and final expression, apprehended
            clearly I say that, in so far as the new party resisted
            the aggressions and pretensions of the slave-power, it
            was fighting for Abolition&#8212;was an ally of Abolitionism.

         </p>
         <p>
            In the summer of 1848, from Northampton, whither
            <a class="newpage" name="P_325" id="P_325" title="P_325"></a>
            he had gone to take the water cure, Garrison counseled
            Quincy, who was filling the editorial chair, in
            the interim, at the <i>Liberator</i> office,
            in this sage fashion:
            "As for the Free-Soil movement, I feel that great
            care is demanded of us disunionists, both in the
            <i>Standard</i> and the
            <i>Liberator</i>, in giving credit to whom
            credit is due, and yet in no case even seeming to be
            satisfied with it." In the winter of 1848 in a letter to
            Samuel May, Jr., he is more explicit on this head. "As
            for the Free-Soil movement," he observes, "I am
            for hailing it as a cheering sign of the times, and an
            unmistakable proof of the progress we have made,
            under God, in changing public sentiment. Those
            who have left the Whig and Democratic parties for
            conscience's sake, and joined the movement, deserve
            our commendation and sympathy; at the same time,
            it is our duty to show them, and all others, that there
            is a higher position to be attained by them or they
            will have the blood of the slave staining their garments.
            This can be done charitably yet faithfully. On
            the two old parties, especially the Whig-Taylor party,
            I would expend&#8212;<i>pro tempore</i>,
            at least&#8212;our heaviest
            ammunition." This is as it should be, the tone of
            wise and vigilant leadership, the application of the
            true test to the circumstances, viz., for freedom if
            against slavery; not to be satisfied, to be sure, with
            any thing less than the whole but disposed to give
            credit to whom it was due, whether much or little.
            Pity that the pioneer could not have placed himself
            in this just and discriminating point of view in respect
            of his old enemy, Liberty party, praising in it
            what he found praiseworthy, while blaming it for
            what he felt was blameworthy. But perfection weak
            <a class="newpage" name="P_326" id="P_326" title="P_326"></a>
            human nature doth not attain to in this terrestrial
            garden of the passions, and so very likely the magnanimity
            which we have desired of Garrison is not for
            that garden to grow but another and a heavenly.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison ill brooked opposition, came it from friends
            or foes. He was so confident in his own positions
            that he could not but distrust their opposites. Of
            course, if his were right, and of that doubt in his mind
            there was apparently none, then the positions of all
            others had to be wrong. This masterful quality of
            the man was constantly betrayed in the acts of
            his life and felt by his closest friends and associates
            in the anti-slavery movement. Quincy, writing to
            Richard Webb, narrates how, at the annual meeting
            of the American Anti-Slavery Society in 1843, Garrison
            was for removing it to Boston, but that he and
            Wendell Phillips were for keeping it where it then
            was in New York, giving at the same time sundry
            good and sufficient reasons for the faith that was in
            them, and how, thereupon, "Garrison dilated his nostrils
            like a war-horse, and snuffed indignation at us."
            "If the Boston friends were unwilling to take the
            trouble and responsibility," were the petulant, accusative
            words put by Quincy into his chief's mouth on
            the occasion, "then there was nothing more to be
            said; we must try to get along as well as we could in
            the old way." And how they disclaimed "any unwillingness
            to take trouble and responsibility," while
            affirming "the necessity of their acting on their own
            idea."

         </p>
         <p>
            Another characteristic of the pioneer is touched
            upon by the same writer in a relation which he was
            making to Webb of Garrison's election to the presidency
            <a class="newpage" name="P_327" id="P_327" title="P_327"></a>
            of the parent society. Says Quincy: "Garrison
            makes an excellent president at a public meeting
            where the order of speakers is in some measure arranged,
            as he has great felicity in introducing and interlocuting
            remarks; but at a meeting for debate he
            does not answer so well, as he is rather too apt, with
            all the innocence and simplicity in the world, to do
            all the talking himself."

         </p>
         <p>
            The same friendly critic has left his judgment of
            other traits of the leader, traits not so much of the
            man as of the editor. It is delivered in a private
            letter of Quincy to Garrison on resigning the temporary
            editorship of the <i>Liberator</i> to
            "its legitimate
            possessor." who had been for several months health-hunting
            at Northampton in the beautiful Connecticut
            Valley. Quincy made bold to beard the Abolition
            lion in his lair, and twist his tail in an extremely
            lively manner. "Now, my dear friend," wrote the
            disciple to the master, "you must know that to the
            microscopic eyes of its friends, as well as to the telescopic
            eyes of its enemies, <em>the</em><i>Liberator</i><em>has faults</em>,
            these they keep to themselves as much as they honestly
            may, but they are not the less sensible of them,
            and are all the more desirous to see them immediately
            abolished. Luckily, they are not faults of principle&#8212;neither
            moral nor intellectual deficiencies&#8212;but faults
            the cure of which rests solely with yourself.

         </p>
         <p>
            "I hardly know how to tell you what the faults are
            that we find with it, lest you should think them
            none at all, or else unavoidable. But no matter, of
            that you must be the judge; we only ask you to listen
            to our opinion. We think the paper often bears
            the mark of haste and carelessness in its getting up;
            <a class="newpage" name="P_328" id="P_328" title="P_328"></a>
            that the matter seems to be hastily selected and put
            in <i>higgledy-piggledy</i>,
            without any very apparent reason
            why it should be in at all, or why it should be in the
            place where it is. I suppose this is often caused by
            your selecting articles with a view to connect remarks
            of your own with them, which afterward in your
            haste you omit. Then we complain that each paper
            is not so nearly a complete work in itself as it might
            be made, but that things are often left at loose ends,
            and important matters broken off in the middle. I
            assure you, that Brother Harriman is not the only
            one of the friends of the <i>Liberator</i>
            who grieves over
            your 'more anon' and 'more next week'&#8212;which
            'anon' and 'next week' never arrive.

         </p>
         <p>
            "Then we complain that your editorials are too
            often wanting, or else such, from apparent haste, as
            those who love your fame cannot wish to see; that
            important topics, which you feel to be such, are too
            often either entirely passed over or very cursorily
            treated, and important moments like the present
            neglected....

         </p>
         <p>
            "We have our suspicions, too, that good friends
            have been disaffected by the neglect of their communications;
            but of this we can only speak by conjecture.
            In short, it appears to those who are your
            warmest friends and the stanchest supporters of the
            paper, that you might make the <i>Liberator</i>
            a more powerful and useful instrumentality than it is, powerful
            and useful as it is, by additional exertions on
            your part. It is very unpleasant to hear invidious
            comparisons drawn between the
            <i>Liberator</i> and
            <i>Emancipator</i>
            with regard to the manner of getting it up,
            and to have not to deny but to excuse them&#8212;and we
            <a class="newpage" name="P_329" id="P_329" title="P_329"></a>
            knowing all the time that you have all the tact and
            technical talent for getting up a good newspaper that
            Leavitt has, with as much more, intellectual ability
            as you have more moral honesty, and only wanting
            some of his (pardon me) industry, application, and
            method."

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison, to his honor, did not allow the exceeding
            candor of his mentor to disturb their friendship.
            The pioneer was not wholly without defence to the
            impeachment. He might have pleaded ill health, of
            which he had had <i>quantum suf.</i>
            since 1836 for himself
            and family. He might have pleaded also the dissipation
            of too much of his energies in consequence of
            more or less pecuniary embarrassments from which
            he was never wholly freed; but, above all, he might
            have pleaded his increasing activity as an anti-slavery
            lecturer. His contributions to the movement against
            slavery were of a notable character in this direction,
            both in respect of quantity and quality. He was not
            alone the editor of the <i>Liberator</i>,
            he was unquestionably
            besides one of the most effective and interesting
            of the anti-slavery speakers&#8212;indeed in the judgment
            of so competent an authority as James Russell
            Lowell, he was regarded as the most effective of the
            anti-slavery speakers. Still, after all is placed to his
            credit that can possibly be, Quincy's complaints
            would be supported by an altogether too solid basis
            of fact. The pioneer was much given to procrastination.
            What was not urgent he was strongly tempted
            to put off for a more convenient time. His work
            accumulated. He labored hard and he accomplished
            much, but because of this habit of postponing
            for to-morrow what need not be done to-day, he was
            <a class="newpage" name="P_330" id="P_330" title="P_330"></a>
            necessarily forced to leave undone many things which
            he ought to have done and which he might have
            accomplished had he been given to putting off for
            to-morrow nothing which might be finished to-day.

         </p>
         <p>
            The pioneer was a man of sorrows and acquainted
            with grief, but never was he wholly cast down by his
            misfortunes. His cheerful and bouyant spirit kept
            him afloat above his sorrows, above his griefs. The
            organ of mirthfulness in him was very large. He
            was an optimist in the best sense of that word, viz.,
            that all things work together for good to them that
            love goodness. In the darkest moments which the
            Abolition cause encountered his own countenance was
            full of light, his own heart pierced through the
            gloom and communicated its glow to those about
            him, his own voice rang bugle-like through reverse
            and disaster.

         </p>
         <p>
            In his family the reformer was seen at his best.
            His wife was his friend and equal, his children his
            playfellows and companions. The dust of the great
            conflict he never carried with him into his home to
            choke the love which burned ever brightly on its
            hearth and in the hearts which it contained. What
            he professed in the <i>Liberator</i>,
            what he preached in the world, of non-resistance,
            woman's rights, perfectionism,
            he practiced in his home, he embodied as
            father, and husband, and host. Never lived reformer
            who more completely realized his own ideals to
            those nearest and dearest to him than William Lloyd
            Garrison.

         </p>
         <p>
            He had seven children, five boys and two girls.
            The last, Francis Jackson, was born to him in the
            year 1848. Two of them died in childhood, a boy
            <a class="newpage" name="P_331" id="P_331" title="P_331"></a>
            and a girl. The loss of the boy, whom the father
            had "named admiringly, gratefully, reverently,"
            Charles Pollen, was a terrible blow to the reformer,
            and a life-long grief to the mother. He seemed to
            have been a singularly beautiful, winning, and affectionate
            little man and to have inspired sweet hopes
            of future "usefulness and excellence" in the breasts
            of his parents. "He seemed born to take a century
            on his shoulders, without stooping; his eyes were
            large, lustrous, and charged with electric light; his
            voice was clear as a bugle, melodious, and ever ringing
            in our ears, from the dawn of day to the ushering
            in of night, so that since it has been stilled, our dwelling
            has seemed to be almost without an occupant,"
            lamented the stricken father to Elizabeth Pease, of
            Darlington, England.

         </p>
         <p>
            "Death itself to me is not terrible, is not repulsive,"
            poured the heartbroken pioneer into the ears of his
            English friend, "is not to be deplored. I see in it as
            clear an evidence of Divine wisdom and beneficence
            as I do in the birth of a child, in the works of creation,
            in all the arrangements and operations of nature.
            I neither fear nor regret its power. I neither expect
            nor supplicate to be exempted from its legitimate
            action. It is not to be chronicled among calamities;
            it is not to be styled "a mysterious dispensation of
            Divine Providence"; it is scarcely rational to talk of
            being resigned to it. For what is more rational, what
            more universal, what more impartial, what more serviceable,
            what more desirable, in God's own time,
            hastened neither by our ignorance or folly?...

         </p>
         <p>
            "When, therefore, my dear friend, I tell you that
            the loss of my dear boy has overwhelmed me with
            <a class="newpage" name="P_332" id="P_332" title="P_332"></a>
            sadness, has affected my peace by day and my repose
            by night, has been a staggering blow, from the shock
            of which I find it very difficult to recover, you will
            not understand me as referring to anything pertaining
            to another state of existence, or as gloomily affected
            by a change inevitable to all; far from it. Where
            the cherished one who has been snatched from us is,
            what is his situation, or what his employment, I
            know not, of course; and it gives me no anxiety
            whatever. Until I join him at least my responsibility
            to him as his guardian and protector has ceased; he
            does not need my aid, he cannot be benefited by my
            counsel. That he will still be kindly cared for by
            Him who numbers the very hairs of our heads, and
            without whose notice a sparrow cannot fall to the
            ground; that he is still living, having thrown aside
            his mortal drapery, and occupying a higher sphere of
            existence, I do not entertain a doubt. My grief
            arises mainly from the conviction that his death was
            premature; that he was actually defrauded of his
            life through unskillful treatment; that he might have
            been saved, if we had not been so unfortunately situated
            at that time. This to be sure, is not certain;
            and not being certain, it is only an ingredient of consolation
            that we find in our cup of bitterness."

         </p>
         <p>
            The pioneer was one of the most generous of givers.
            Poor indeed he was, much beyond the common allotment
            of men of his intelligence and abilities, but he
            was never too indigent to answer the appeals of
            poverty. If the asker's needs were greater than his
            own he divided with him the little which he had. To
            his home all sorts of people were attracted, Abolitionists,
            peace men, temperance reformers, perfectionists,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_333" id="P_333" title="P_333"></a>
            homoeopathists, hydropathists, mesmerists, spiritualists,
            Grahamites, clairvoyants, whom he received with
            unfailing hospitality, giving welcome and sympathy
            to the new ideas, food and shelter for the material
            sustenance of the fleshly vehicles of the new ideas.
            He evidently was strongly of the opinion that there
            are "more things in heaven and earth than are
            dreamt of" in the philosophy of any particular period
            in the intellectual development of man. No age
            knows it all. It was almost a lo, here, and a lo,
            there, with him, so large was his bump of wonder, so
            unlimited was his appetite for the incredible and the
            improbable in the domain of human knowledge and
            speculation. Great was the man's faith, great was
            his hope, great was his charity.

         </p>
         <p>
            He was one of the most observant of men in all
            matters affecting the rights of others; he was one of
            the least observant in all matters appertaining to himself.
            With a decided taste for dress, yet his actual
            knowledge of the kind of clothes worn by him from
            day to day was amusingly inexact, as the following
            incident shows: Before wearing out an only pair of
            trousers, the pioneer had indulged in the unusual luxury
            of a new pair. But as there was still considerable
            service to be got out of the old pair, he, like a prudent
            man, laid aside the new ones for future use. His
            wife, however, who managed all this part of the domestic
            business, determined, without consulting him,
            the morning when the new trousers should be donned.
            She made the necessary changes when her lord was
            in bed, putting the new in the place of the old. Garrison
            wore for several days the new trousers, thinking
            all the time that they were his old ones until his illusions
            <a class="newpage" name="P_334" id="P_334" title="P_334"></a>
            in this regard were dispelled by an incident
            which cost him the former. Some poor wretch of a
            tramp, knocking in an evil hour at the pioneer's door
            and asking for clothes, decided the magnificent possessor
            of two pairs of trousers, to don his new ones
            and to pass the old ones on to the tramp. But when
            he communicated the transaction to his wife, she
            hoped, with a good deal of emphasis, that he had not
            given away the pair of breeches which he was wearing,
            for if he had she would beg to inform him that
            he had given away his best ones! But the pioneer's
            splendid indifference to <i>meum</i> and
            <i>tuum</i> where his own
            possessions were concerned was equal to the occasion.
            He got his compensation in the thought that his loss
            was another's gain. That, indeed, was not to be accounted
            loss which had gone to a brother-man whose
            needs were greater than his own.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_335" id="P_335" title="P_335"></a></p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap18"></a>
            CHAPTER XVIII.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            THE TURNING OF A LONG LANE.

         </h2>
         <p>
            Garrison's forecast of the future, directly after the
            annexation of Texas, proved singularly correct.
            Never, as at that moment, had the slave-power
            seemed so secure in its ascendency, yet never, at any
            previous period, was it so near its downfall. Freedom
            had reached that darkest hour just before dawn; and
            this, events were speedily to make clear. If the South
            could have trammeled up the consequences of annexation,
            secure, indeed, for a season, would it have held
            its political supremacy in America? But omnipotent
            as was the slave-power in the Government, it was not
            equal to this labor. In the great game, in which
            Texas was the stakes, Fate had, unawares, slipped into
            the seat between the gamesters with hands full of
            loaded dice. At the first throw the South got Texas,
            at the second the war with Mexico fell out, and at
            the third new national territory lay piled upon the
            boards.

         </p>
         <p>
            Calhoun, the arch-annexationist, struggled desperately
            to avert the war. He saw as no other Southern
            leader saw its tremendous significance in the conflict
            between the two halves of the Union for the political
            balance. The admission of Texas had made an adjustment
            of this balance in favor of the South. Calhoun's
            plan was to conciliate Mexico, to sweep with
            <a class="newpage" name="P_336" id="P_336" title="P_336"></a>
            our diplomatic broom the gathering war-clouds from
            the national firmament. War, he knew, would imperil
            the freshly fortified position of his section&#8212;war
            which meant at its close the acquisition of new national
            territory, with which the North would insist
            upon retrieving its reverse in the controversy over
            Texas. War, therefore, the great nullifier resolved
            against. He cried halt to his army, but the army
            heard not his voice, heeded not his orders, in the wild
            uproar and clamor which arose at the sight of helpless
            Mexico, and the temptation of adding fresh slave
            soil to the United States South, through her spoliation;
            Calhoun confessed that, with the breaking out
            of hostilities between the two republics an impenetrable
            curtain had shut from his eyes the future. The
            great plot for maintaining the political domination of
            the South had miscarried. New national territory
            had become inevitable with the firing of the first gun.
            Seeing this, Calhoun endeavored to postpone the evil
            day for the South by proposing a military policy of
            "masterly inactivity" whereby time might be gained
            for his side to prepare to meet the blow when it fell.
            But his "masterly inactivity" policy was swept aside
            by the momentum of the national passion which
            the war had aroused.

         </p>
         <p>
            California and New Mexico became the strategic
            points of the slavery struggle at the close of the war.
            To open both to the immigration of slave-labor was
            thenceforth the grand design of the South. Over
            Oregon occurred a fierce preliminary trial of strength
            between the sections. The South was thrown in the
            contest, and the anti-slavery principle of the Ordinance
            of 1787 applied to the Territory. Calhoun,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_337" id="P_337" title="P_337"></a>
            who was apparently of the mind that as Oregon went
            so would go California and New Mexico, was violently
            agitated by this reverse. "The great strife between
            the North and the South is ended," he passionately
            declared. Immediately the charge was made and
            widely circulated through the slave States that the
            stronger was oppressing the weaker section, wresting
            from it its just share in the common fruits of common
            victories. For had not California and New Mexico
            been won by the bravery and blood of the South as
            of the North, and how then was the North to deprive
            the South of its joint ownership of them without
            destroying the federal equality of the two halves of
            the Union? What was it but to subvert the Union
            existing among the States?

         </p>
         <p>
            Disunion sentiment was thenceforth ladled out to
            the slave States in increasing quantities. The turning
            of the long lane in the domination of the slave-power
            was visibly near. With Garrison at one end and
            Calhoun at the other the work of dissolution advanced
            apace. The latter announced, in 1848, that the separation
            of the two sections was complete. Ten years
            before, Garrison had made proclamation that the
            Union, though not in form, was, nevertheless, in fact
            dissolved. And possibly they were right. The line
            of cleavage had at the date of Calhoun's announcement
            passed entirely through the grand strata of
            national life, industrial, moral, political, and religious.
            There remained indeed but a single bond of connection
            between the slave-holding and the non-slave-holding
            States, viz., fealty to party. But in 1848
            not even this slender link was intact.

         </p>
         <p>
            The anti-slavery uprising was a fast growing factor
            <a class="newpage" name="P_338" id="P_338" title="P_338"></a>
            in the politics of the free States. This was evinced
            by the aggressiveness of anti-slavery legislation, the
            repeal of slave sojournment laws, the enactment of
            personal liberty laws, the increasing preference manifested
            by Whig and by Democratic electors for anti-slavery
            Whig, and anti-slavery Democratic leaders.
            Seward and Chase, and Hale and Hamlin, Thaddeus
            Stevens and Joshua R. Giddings, were all in Congress
            in 1849. A revolution was working in the North; a
            revolution was working in the South. New and
            bolder spirits were rising to leadership in both sections.
            On the Southern stage were Jefferson Davis,
            Barnwell Rhett, David Atchison, Howell Cobb,
            Robert Toombs, and James M. Mason. The outlook
            was portentous, tempestuous.

         </p>
         <p>
            The tide of excitement culminated in the crisis
            of 1850. The extraordinary activity of the under-ground
            railroad system, and its failure to open the
            national Territories to slave immigration had transported
            the South to the verge of disunion. California,
            fought over by the two foes, was in the act of withdrawing
            herself from the field of contention to a
            position of independent Statehood. It was her rap
            for admission into the Union as a free State which precipitated
            upon the country the last of the compromises
            between freedom and slavery. It sounded the opening
            of the final act of Southern domination in the
            republic.

         </p>
         <p>
            The compromise of 1850, a series of five acts, three
            of which it took to conciliate the South, while two
            were considered sufficient to satisfy the North, was,
            after prolonged and stormy debate, adopted to save
            Webster's glorious Union. These five acts were, in
            <a class="newpage" name="P_339" id="P_339" title="P_339"></a>
            the agonized accents of Clay, to heal "the five fire
            gaping wounds" of the country. But the wounds
            were immedicable, as events were soon to prove.
            Besides, two at least of the remedies failed to operate
            as emollients. They irritated and inflamed the
            national ulcers and provoked fresh paroxysms of the
            disease. The admission of California as a free State
            was a sort of perpetual <i>memento mori</i>
            to the slave-power.
            It hung forever over the South the Damoclean
            blade of Northern political ascendency in the
            Union. The fugitive slave law on the other hand
            produced results undreamt of by its authors. Who
            would have ventured to predict the spontaneous, irresistible
            insurrection of the humane forces and passions
            of the North which broke out on the passage of the
            infamous bill? Who could have foretold the moral
            and political consequences of its execution, for instance,
            in Boston, which fifteen years before had
            mobbed anti-slavery women and dragged Garrison
            through its streets? The moral indignation aroused
            by the law in Massachusetts swept Webster and the
            Whigs from power, carried Sumner to the Senate and
            crowned Liberty on Beacon Hill. It worked a revolution
            in Massachusetts, it wrought changes of the
            greatest magnitude in the free States.

         </p>
         <p>
            From this time the reign of discord became universal.
            The conflict between the sections increased
            in virulence. At the door of every man sat the fierce
            figure of strife. It fulmined from the pulpit and
            frowned from the pews. The platforms of the free
            States resounded with the thunder of tongues. The
            press exploded with the hot passions of the hour.
            Parties warred against each other. Factions arose
            <a class="newpage" name="P_340" id="P_340" title="P_340"></a>
            within parties and fought among themselves with no
            less bitterness. Wrath is infectious and the wrathful
            temper of the nation became epidemic. The Ishmaelitish
            impulse to strike something or someone, was
            irresistible. The bonds which had bound men to one
            another seemed everywhere loosening, and people in
            masses were slipping away from old to enter into
            new combinations of political activity. It was a period
            of tumultuous transition and confusion. The
            times were topsy-turvy and old Night and Chaos were
            the angels who sat by the bubbling abysses of the
            revolution.

         </p>
         <p>
            In the midst of this universal and violent agitation
            of the public mind the old dread of disunion returned
            to torment the American <i>bourgeoisie</i>,
            who through
            their presses, especially those of the metropolis of the
            Union, turned fiercely upon the Abolitionists. While
            the compromise measures were the subject of excited
            debate before Congress, the anniversary meeting of
            the American Anti-Slavery Society fell due. But the
            New York journals, the <i>Herald</i> in
            particular, had no
            mind to allow the meeting to take place without
            renewing the reign of terror of fifteen years before.
            Garrison was depicted as worse than Robespierre, with
            an insatiable appetite for the destruction of established
            institutions, both human and divine. The dissolution
            of the Union, the "overthrow of the churches,
            the Sabbath, and the Bible," all were required to glut
            his malevolent passion. "Will the men of sense allow
            meetings to be held in this city which are calculated
            to make our country the arena of blood and murder,"
            roared the <i>Herald</i>,
            "and render our city an object of
            horror to the whole South?... Public opinion
            <a class="newpage" name="P_341" id="P_341" title="P_341"></a>
            should be regulated. These Abolitionists should not
            be allowed to misrepresent New York." In order to
            suppress the Abolitionists that paper did not blink at
            any means, however extreme or revolutionary, but
            declared boldly in favor of throttling free discussion.
            "When free discussion does not promote the public
            good," argued the editor, "it has no more right to
            exist than a bad government that is dangerous and
            oppressive to the common weal. It should be overthrown."
            The mob thus invoked came forward on
            the opening of the convention to overthrow free discussion.

         </p>
         <p>
            The storm which the New York press was at so
            much labor to brew, Garrison did not doubt would
            break over the convention. He went to it in a truly
            apostolic spirit of self-sacrifice. "Not knowing the
            things that shall befall me there, saving that bonds
            and afflictions abide with me in every city," he wrote
            his wife an hour before the commencement of the
            convention. His prevision of violence was quickly
            fulfilled. He had called Francis Jackson to the chair
            during the delivery of the opening speech which fell
            to the pioneer to make as the president of the society.
            His subject was the Religion of the Country, to which
            he was paying his respects in genuine Garrisonian
            fashion. Belief in Jesus in the United States had no
            vital influence on conduct or character. The chief
            religious denominations were in practice pro-slavery,
            they had uttered no protest against the national sin.
            There was the Roman Catholic Church whose "priests
            and members held slaves without incurring the rebuke
            of the Church." At this point the orator was interrupted
            by one of those monstrous products of the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_342" id="P_342" title="P_342"></a>
            slums of the American metropolis, compounded of the
            bully, the blackleg, and the demagogue in about
            equal proportions. It was the notorious Captain
            Isaiah Rynders, perched with his band of blackguards
            in the organ loft of the tabernacle and ready
            to do the will of the metropolitan journals by over-throwing
            the right of free discussion. He was not disposed
            to permit Mr. Garrison's censure of the Roman
            Catholic Church to pass unchallenged, so he begged
            to ask "whether there are no other churches as well as
            the Catholic Church, whose clergy and lay members
            hold slaves?" To which the anti-slavery leader
            replied with the utmost composure, not inclined to
            let even Captain Rynders interrupt the even and
            orderly progression of his discourse: "Will the
            friend wait for a moment, and I will answer him in
            reference to other churches?" "The friend" thereupon
            resumed his seat in the organ loft, and Garrison
            proceeded with his indictment of the churches. There
            was the Episcopal Church, whose clergy and laity
            dealt with impunity in human flesh, and the Presbyterians,
            whose ministers and members did likewise
            without apparently any compunctious visitings of
            conscience, ditto the Baptist, ditto the Methodist. In
            fact "all the sects are combined," the orator sternly
            continued, "to prevent that jubilee which it is the
            will of God should come."

         </p>
         <p>
            But the bully in the organ loft, who was not content
            for long to play the part of Patience on a monument,
            interrupted the speaker with a second question
            which he looked upon, doubtless, as a hard nut to
            crack. "Are you aware," inquired the blackleg
            "that the slaves in the South have their prayer-meetings
            <a class="newpage" name="P_343" id="P_343" title="P_343"></a>
            in honor of Christ?" The nut was quickly
            crushed between the sharp teeth of the orator's scathing
            retort. Mr. Garrison&#8212;"Not a slave-holding or
            a slave-breeding Jesus. (Sensation.) The slaves believe
            in a Jesus that strikes off chains. In this country
            Jesus has become obsolete. A profession in him
            is no longer a test. Who objects to his course in
            Jud&aelig;a? The old Pharisees are extinct, and may
            safely be denounced. Jesus is the most respectable
            person in the United States. (Great sensation and
            murmurs of disapprobation.) Jesus sits in the President's
            chair of the United States. (A thrill of horror
            here seemed to run through the assembly.) Zachary
            Taylor sits there, which is the same thing, for he believes
            in Jesus. He believes in war, and the Jesus
            that 'gave the Mexicans hell.'" (Sensation, uproar,
            and confusion.)

         </p>
         <p>
            This rather sulphurous allusion to the President of
            the glorious Union, albeit in language used by himself
            in a famous order during the Mexican War, acted
            as a red rag upon the human bull in the organ loft,
            who, now beside himself with passion, plunged madly
            down to the platform with his howling mob at his
            heels. "I will not allow you to assail the President of
            the United States. You shan't do it!" bellowed the
            blackguard, shaking his fist at Mr. Garrison. But
            Mr. Garrison, with that extraordinary serenity of
            manner which was all his own, parleyed with the
            ruffian, as if he was no ruffian and had no mob at his
            back. "You ought not to interrupt us," he remonstrated
            with gentle dignity. "We go upon the principle
            of hearing everybody. If you wish to speak, I
            will keep order, and you shall be heard." Rynders
            <a class="newpage" name="P_344" id="P_344" title="P_344"></a>
            was finally quieted by the offer of Francis Jackson to
            give him a hearing as soon as Mr. Garrison had
            brought his address to an end.

         </p>
         <p>
            Rev. W.H. Furness, of Philadelphia, who was a
            member of the convention and also one of the speakers,
            has preserved for us the contrasts of the occasion.
            "The close of Mr. Garrison's address," says he,
            "brought down Rynders again, who vociferated and
            harangued at one time on the platform, and then
            pushing down into the aisles, like a madman followed
            by his keepers. Through the whole, nothing could
            be more patient and serene than the bearing of Mr.
            Garrison. I have always revered Mr. Garrison for
            his devoted, uncompromising fidelity to his great
            cause. Today I was touched to the heart by his
            calm and gentle manners. There was no agitation,
            no scorn, no heat, but the quietness of a man engaged
            in simple duties."

         </p>
         <p>
            The madman and his keepers were quite vanquished
            on the first day of the convention by the wit, repartee,
            and eloquence of Frederick Douglass, Dr. Furness,
            and Rev. Samuel R. Ward, whom Wendell Phillips
            described as so black that "when he shut his eyes
            you could not see him." But it was otherwise on the
            second day when public opinion was "regulated,"
            and free discussion overthrown by Captain Rynders
            and his villainous gang, who were resolved, with the
            authors of the compromise, that the Union as it was
            should be preserved.

         </p>
         <p>
            But, notwithstanding the high authority and
            achievements of this noble band of patriots and
            brothers, Garrison's detestation of the Union but
            increased, and his cry for its dissolution grew deeper
            <a class="newpage" name="P_345" id="P_345" title="P_345"></a>
            and louder. And no wonder. For never had the
            compact between freedom and slavery seemed more
            hateful than after the passage of the Fugitive Slave
            Bill. The state of panic which it created among the
            colored people in the free States will form, if ever
            written down, one of the most heartrending chapters
            in human history. Hundreds and thousands fled
            from their homes into the jaws of a Canadian winter
            to escape the jaws of the slave-hounds, whose fierce
            baying began presently to fill the land from Massachusetts
            to Ohio. It made no difference whether
            these miserable people had been always free or were
            fugitives from slavery, the terror spread among
            them all the same. The aged and the young turned
            their backs upon their homes and hurried precipitately
            into a strange country. Fathers with wives
            and children dependant upon them for their daily
            bread, were forced by the dread of being captured
            and returned to bondage to abandon their homes
            and loved ones, sometimes without so much as a
            touch of their hands or a tone of their voices in
            token of farewell. Perhaps on his way to work in
            the morning some husband or son has caught a
            glimpse among the faces on the street of one face,
            the remembrance of which to the day of death,
            he can never lose, a face he had known in some far
            away Southern town or plantation, and with which
            are connected in the poor fellow's brain the most
            frightful sufferings and associations. Crazed at the
            sight, with no thought of home, of the labors which
            are awaiting him, oblivious of everything but the
            abject terror which has suddenly taken possession of
            him, he hastens away to hide and fly, fly and hide, until
            <a class="newpage" name="P_346" id="P_346" title="P_346"></a>
            he reaches a land where slave-hounds enter not, and
            panting fugitives find freedom. Wendell Phillips
            tells of an old woman of seventy who asked his
            advice about flying, though originally free, and fearful
            only of being caught up by mistake. The distress
            everywhere was awful, the excitement indescribable.
            From Boston alone in the brief space of
            three weeks after the rescue of Shadrach, nearly a
            hundred of these panic stricken creatures had fled.
            The whole number escaping into Canada Charles
            Sumner placed as high as six thousand souls. But
            in addition to this large band of fugitives, others
            emigrated to the interior of New England away from
            the seaboard centers of trade and commerce where
            the men-hunters abounded.

         </p>
         <p>
            The excitement and the perils of this period were
            not confined to the colored people. Their white
            friends shared both with them. We are indebted to Mr.
            Phillips for the following graphic account of these
            excitements and perils in Boston in March, 1851.
            He has been describing the situation in the city, in
            respect of the execution of the infamous law, to
            Elizabeth Pease, and goes on thus: "I need not
            enlarge on this; but the long evening sessions&#8212;debates
            about secret escapes&#8212;plans to evade where we
            can't resist&#8212;the door watched that no spy may enter&#8212;the
            whispering consultations of the morning&#8212;some
            putting property out of their hands, planning to
            incur penalties, and planning also that, in case of
            conviction, the Government may get nothing from
            them&#8212;the doing, and answering no questions&#8212;intimates
            forbearing to ask the knowledge which it
            may be dangerous to have&#8212;all remind one of those
            <a class="newpage" name="P_347" id="P_347" title="P_347"></a>
            foreign scenes which have hitherto been known to us,
            transatlantic republicans, only in books."

         </p>
         <p>
            On the passage of the Black Bill, as the Abolitionists
            stigmatised the law, it was not believed that the
            moral sentiment of Boston would execute it, so horrified
            did the community seem. But it was soon apparent
            to the venerable Josiah Quincy that "The
            Boston of 1851 is not the Boston of 1775. Boston,"
            the sage goes on to remark, "has now become a
            mere shop&#8212;a place for buying and selling goods;
            and, I suppose, also of <em>buying and selling men</em>." The
            great idol of her shopkeepers, Daniel Webster,
            having striven mightily for the enactment of the
            hateful bill while Senator of the United States, had
            gone into Millard Fillmore's Cabinet, to labor yet
            more mightily for its enforcement. The rescue of
            Shadrach, which Mr. Secretary of State characterized
            "as a case of treason," set him to thundering
            for the Union as it was, and against the "fanatics,"
            who were stirring up the people of the free States
            to resist the execution of the Fugitive Slave Law.
            But he was no longer "the God-like" Webster, for
            he appeared to the editor of the
            <i>Liberator</i> as "an
            ordinary-looking, poor, decrepit old man, whose limbs
            could scarce support him; lank with age; whose
            sluggish legs were somewhat concealed by an over-shadowing
            abdomen; with head downcast and arms
            shriveled, and dangling almost helpless by his side,
            and incapable of being magnetized for the use of
            the orator." The voice and the front of "the God-like"
            had preceded the "poor decrepit old man" to
            the grave. Garrison dealt no less roughly and irreverently
            with another of the authors of the wicked
            <a class="newpage" name="P_348" id="P_348" title="P_348"></a>
            law and another of the superannuated divinities of a
            shopkeeping North, Henry Clay.
            "<b>HENRY CLAY</b>,
            with one foot in the grave," exclaimed the reformer,
            "and just ready to have both body and soul cast into
            hell, as if eager to make his damnation doubly sure,
            rises in the United States Senate and proposes an
            inquiry into the expediency of passing yet another
            law, by which every one who shall dare peep or
            mutter against the execution of the Fugitive Slave Bill
            shall have his life crushed out."

         </p>
         <p>
            In those trial times words from the mouth or the
            pen of Abolitionists had the force of deadly missiles.
            Incapacitated as Garrison was to resort to physical
            resistance to the Fugitive Slave Law by his non-resistant
            doctrine, it seemed that all the energy and
            belligerency of the man went into the most tremendous
            verbal expressions. They were like adamantine
            projectiles flung with the savage strength of a catapult
            against the walls of slavery. The big sinners, like Webster
            and Clay, he singled out for condign punishment,
            were objects of his utmost severities of speech. It was
            thus that he essayed to breach the iron dungeon in
            which the national iniquity had shut the national conscience.
            Saturated was the reformer's mind with the
            thought of the Bible, its solemn and awful imagery,
            its fiery and prophetic abhorrence and denunciations
            of national sins, all of which furnished him an unfailing
            magazine whence were drawn the bolts which
            he launched against the giant sin and the giant sinners
            of his time. And so Clay had not only "one
            foot in the grave," but was "just ready to have both
            body and soul cast into hell."

         </p>
         <p>
            While physical resistance of the Slave Law was
            <a class="newpage" name="P_349" id="P_349" title="P_349"></a>
            wholly out of the question with Garrison, he, nevertheless,
            refused to condemn the men with whom it
            was otherwise. Here he was anything but a fanatic.
            All that he required was that each should be consistent
            with his principles. If those principles bade him
            resist the enforcement of the Black Bill, the apostle
            of non-resistance was sorry enough, but in this emergency,
            though he possessed the gentleness of the
            dove, he also practised the wisdom of the serpent.
            That truth moves with men upon lower as well as
            higher planes he well knew. It is always partial and
            many-colored, refracted as it is through the prisms
            of human passion and prejudice. If it appear unto
            some minds in the red bar of strife and blood, so be
            it. Each must follow the light which it is given him
            to discern, whether the blue of love or the red of
            war. Great coadjutors, like Wendell Phillips, Theodore
            Parker, and Dr. Henry I. Bowditch, were for
            forcible resistance to the execution of the law. So
            were the colored people. Preparations to this end
            went on vigorously in Boston under the direction of
            the Vigilance Committee. The Crafts escaped the
            clutches of the slave-hunters, so did Shadrach escape
            them, but Sims and Burns fell into them and were
            returned to bondage.

         </p>
         <p>
            From this time on Wendell Phillips became in Boston
            and in the North more distinctly the leader of the
            Abolition sentiment. The period of pure moral agitation
            ended with the passage of the Fugitive Slave
            Law. That act opened a new era in the movement, an
            era in which non-resistance had no place, an era in
            which a resort to physical force in settlement of
            sectional differences, the whole trend of things were
            <a class="newpage" name="P_350" id="P_350" title="P_350"></a>
            making inevitable. Fighting, the Anglo-Saxon
            method, as Theodore Parker characterized it, of making
            a final settlement of just such controversies as
            was the slavery question, was in the air, had become
            without any general consciousness of it at the time
            appearing in the popular mind, a foregone conclusion,
            from the moment that the South wrested from
            the National Government the right to defy and
            override the moral sentiment of free State communities.
            With this advance of the anti-slavery
            agitation a stage nearer the end, when fighting would
            supersede all other methods, the fighters gravitated
            naturally to the front of the conflict, and the apostle
            of non-resistance fell somewhat into the background
            of the great movement started by him.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison had begun, indeed, to recognize that there
            were other ways besides his way of abolishing slavery&#8212;had
            begun to see that these with his led to Rome,
            to the ultimate extinction of the evil, to which anti-slavery
            unionists and disunionists were alike devoted.
            His innate sagacity and strong sense of justice
            lifted the reformer to larger toleration of mind.
            At a dinner given in Boston in May, 1853, by the Free
            Democracy to John P. Hale, he was not only present
            to testify his appreciation of the courage and services
            of Mr. Hale to the common cause, but while there
            was able to speak thus tolerantly&#8212;tolerantly for him
            certainly&#8212;of a Union dear to the company about the
            table yet hateful beyond measure to himself: "Sir,
            you will pardon me," spoke the arch anti-slavery disunionist,
            "for the reference. I have heard something
            here about our Union, about the value of the Union,
            and the importance of preserving the Union, Gentlemen,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_351" id="P_351" title="P_351"></a>
            if you have been so fortunate as to find a
            Union worth preserving, I heartily congratulate you.
            Cling to it with all your souls!" For himself, he has
            not been so fortunate. With a price set on his head in
            one of the Southern States, and outlawed in all of
            them, he begs to be pardoned if found lacking in
            loyalty to the existing Union, which to him, alas: "is
            but another name for the iron reign of the slave-power.
            We have no common country as yet. God grant we
            may have. We shall have it when the jubilee comes&#8212;and
            not till then," he declared, mindful of the convictions
            of others, yet bravely true to his own. The seeds
            of liberty, of hatred of the slave-power, planted by
            Garrison were springing up in a splendid crop through
            the North. Much of the political anti-slavery of the
            times were the fruit of his endeavor. Wendell Phillips
            has pointed out how the Liberty party was benefited
            by the meetings and speeches of Garrisonian
            Abolitionists. What was true of the Liberty party
            was equally true of Free Soil and Free Democracy.
            Although the little band remained small, it was potent
            in swelling, year after year, the anti-slavery membership
            of all the parties, Whig and Democratic, as
            well as of those already mentioned. "Uncle Tom's
            Cabin" might fairly be classed among the large indirect
            results produced by Garrison. "But," as Phillips
            justly remarked, "'Uncle Tom' would never
            have been written had not Garrison developed the
            facts; and never would have succeeded had he not
            created readers and purchasers." Garrisonism had
            become an influence, a power that made for liberty
            and against slavery in the United States. It had become
            such also in Great Britain. George Thompson,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_352" id="P_352" title="P_352"></a>
            writing the pioneer of the marvelous sale of "Uncle
            Tom" in England, and of the unprecedented demand
            for anti-slavery literature, traced their source to his
            friend: "Behold the fruit of your labors," he exclaimed,
            "and rejoice."

         </p>
         <p>
            Mr. Garrison's pungent characterization of the
            "Union" at the dinner of the Free Democracy as
            "but another name for the iron reign of the slave-power,"
            found almost instant illustration of its truth
            in the startling demand of that power for the repeal
            of the Missouri Compromise. In 1850 the South lost
            California, but it received at the time an advantage
            of far-reaching consequence, viz., the admission of
            the principle of federal non-intervention upon the
            subject of slavery in the national Territories into the
            bill organizing Territorial Governments for New Mexico
            and Utah. The train which was to blow down
            the slave wall of 1820 and open to slave immigration
            the northern half of the Louisiana Territory, was laid
            in the compromise measures of 1850.

         </p>
         <p>
            Calhoun, strongly dissatisfied as he was with the
            Missouri settlement, recoiled from countenancing any
            agitation on the part of the South looking to its
            repeal on the ground that such action was calculated
            to disturb "the peace and harmony of the Union."
            But four years after the death of the great nullifier,
            his disciples and followers dared to consummate a
            crime, the consequences of which he shrank from
            inviting. The political conditions four years had
            indeed modified in one important particular at least.
            In Calhoun's lifetime, there was no Northern leader
            bold enough to undertake to engineer an act of abrogation
            through Congress. If the North were willing,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_353" id="P_353" title="P_353"></a>
            possessed sufficient magnanimity, to surrender, in the
            interest of brotherly love between the sections, the
            benefits which inured to it under the Missouri Compromise,
            neither Calhoun nor the South would have
            declined the proffered sacrifice. The selection of
            Stephen A. Douglas in 1854 as the leader of the
            movement for repeal put a new face on the business,
            which was thereby made to appear to proceed from
            the free, not from the slave States. This was
            adroit, the fixing upon the losing section the initiative
            and the responsibility of the act of abrogation.

         </p>
         <p>
            Besides this element, there was another not less
            specious which lent to the scheme an air of fairness,
            and that was the application to the Territories of the
            American principle of local self-government, in other
            words, the leaving to the people of the Territories the
            right to vote slavery up or vote it down, as they
            might elect. The game was a deep one, worthy of
            the machinations of its Northern and Southern
            authors. But, like other elaborate schemes of mice
            and men, it went to pieces under the fatal stroke of
            an unexpected circumstance. The act which abrogated
            the Missouri Compromise broke the much-enduring
            back of Northern patience at the same
            time. In the struggle for the repeal Southern Whigs
            and Southern Democrats forgot their traditionary
            party differences in battling for Southern interests,
            which was not more or less than the extension to
            the national Territories of the peculiar institution.
            The final recognition of this ugly fact on the part of
            the free States, raised a popular flood in them big
            enough to whelm the Whig party and to float a great
            <a class="newpage" name="P_354" id="P_354" title="P_354"></a>
            political organization, devoted to uncompromising
            opposition to the farther extension of slavery. The
            sectionalism of slavery was at last met by the sectionalism
            of freedom. From that moment the old Union,
            with its slave compromises, was doomed. In the
            conflict then impending its dissolution was merely
            a matter of time, unless indeed the North should
            prove strong enough to preserve it by the might of its
            arms, seeing that the North still clung passionately to
            the idea of national unity.

         </p>
         <p>
            Not so, however, was it with Garrison. Sharper
            and sterner rose his voice against any union with
            Slaveholders. On the Fourth of July following the
            repeal of the Missouri Compromise, the reformer at
            Framingham, Mass., gave a fresh and startling sign
            of his hatred of the Union by burning publicly the
            Constitution of the United States. Before doing so
            however, he consigned to the flames a copy of the
            <i>Fugitive Slave Law</i>,
            next the decision of Judge Loring
            remanding Anthony Burns to slavery, also the
            charge of Judge Benjamin R. Curtis to the Grand
            Jury touching the assault upon the court-house for the
            rescue of Burns. Then holding up the United States
            Constitution, he branded it as the source and parent
            of all the other atrocities&#8212;a covenant with death
            and an agreement with hell&#8212;and consumed it to
            ashes on the spot, exclaiming, "So perish all compromises
            with tyranny! And let all the people say,
            Amen!" This dramatic act and the "tremendous
            shout" which "went up to heaven in ratification of
            the deed" from the assembled multitude, what were
            they but the prophecy of a fiercer fire already burning
            in the land, soon to blaze about the pillars of the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_355" id="P_355" title="P_355"></a>
            Union, of a more tremendous shout soon to burst
            with the wrath of a divided people over that
            <a class="newpage" name="P_356" id="P_356" title="P_356"></a></p>
         <div class="lg">"perfidious bark<br>Built i' th' eclipse, and rigged with curses dark."<br><br></div>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap19"></a>
            CHAPTER XIX.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            FACE TO FACE.

         </h2>
         <p>
            Face to face at last were freedom and slavery.
            The final struggle between them for mastery had
            come. Narrow, indeed, was the issue that divided
            the combatants, slavery extension on the one side,
            and slavery restriction on the other, not total and
            immediate emancipation, but it was none the less
            vital and supreme to the two enemies. Back of the
            Southern demand for "More slave soil" stood a solid
            South, back of the Northern position, "No more slave
            soil" was rallying a fast uniting North. The political
            revolution, produced by the Kansas-Nebraska Bill,
            advanced apace through the free States from Maine
            to Michigan. A flood-tide of Northern resistance
            had suddenly risen against the slave-power.

         </p>
         <p>
            Higher than anywhere else rose this flood-tide in
            Massachusetts. The judge who remanded Anthony
            Burns to slavery was removed from office, and a Personal
            Liberty Law, with provisions as bold as they
            were thorough, enacted for the protection of fugitive
            slaves. Mr. Garrison sat beside the President of the
            State Senate when that body voted to remove Judge
            Loring from his office. Such was Massachusetts's
            answer to the abrogation of the Missouri Compromise,
            and a triumphant slave-power. Its instant
            <a class="newpage" name="P_357" id="P_357" title="P_357"></a>
            effect was to accelerate in the South the action of the
            disunion working forces there, to hurry the inevitable
            moment when the two sections would rush
            together in a death-grapple within or without Webster's
            once glorious Union.

         </p>
         <p>
            Indeed the foes had already closed in a frightful
            wrestle for the possession of Kansas. When the
            National Government adopted the popular sovereignty
            doctrine in solution of the Territorial problem
            between the two halves of the Union, freedom and
            slavery thereupon precipitated their forces upon the
            debatable land, and, for the first time, the men of the
            North and the men of the South came into actual
            physical collision in defence of their respective ideas
            and institutions. The possession of land is nine
            points of the law among Anglo-Saxons, and for this
            immense advantage both sides flung themselves into
            Kansas&#8212;the North by means of emigrant aid societies,
            the South by means of bands of Border ruffians
            under the direction of a United States Senator. It
            was distinctly understood and ordained in connection
            with the repeal of the compromise of 1820, that final
            possession of the Territories then thrown open to
            slave labor should be determined by the people
            inhabiting the same. In the contest for peopling
            Kansas the superior colonizing resources of the free
            States was presently made manifest. They, in any
            fair contest with ballots, had a majority of the polls,
            and were, therefore, able to vote slavery down.
            Worsted as the South clearly was in a show of heads,
            it threw itself back upon fraud and force to decide
            the issue in its favor. The cartridge-box took the
            place of the ballot-box in bleeding Kansas, and violence
            <a class="newpage" name="P_358" id="P_358" title="P_358"></a>
            and anarchy, as a consequence, reigned therein
            for the space of several years.

         </p>
         <p>
            This is no place to depict those scenes of slave-holding
            outrages, supported as they were by a Northern
            President with Southern principles. The sight of
            them rapidly changed the pacific character of the
            free States. Many a peace man dropped his peace
            principles before this bloody duel between the civilization
            of the South and that of the North. Ministers
            and churches took up collections to send, not Bibles,
            but Sharp's rifles to their brethren in Kansas. The
            South had appealed to the sword, and the North had
            sternly accepted the challenge. War was in the air,
            and the Northern temper, without there being any
            general consciousness of it, was fast mounting to the
            war point in the thermometer of the passions, thanks
            to the perfidy and ruffianism of the slave-power in
            Congress and Kansas.

         </p>
         <p>
            This trend and strong undertow of the nation
            toward a civil outbreak and commotion, though
            unnoted by the multitude, was yet, nevertheless, seen
            and felt by many thoughtful and far-seeing minds;
            and by no one more clearly than by T.W. Higginson,
            who at the twentieth anniversary of the Boston
            mob, discoursed thus on this head: "Mr. Phillips
            told us that on this day, twenty years ago, the military
            could not protect the meeting, because the guns
            were outside in the mob&#8212;or the men who should
            have carried them! There has been a time since
            when the men were on the outside and the guns too;
            and as surely as this earth turns on its axis, that time
            will come again! And it is for you, men, who
            hear me, to think what you will do when that time
            <a class="newpage" name="P_359" id="P_359" title="P_359"></a>
            comes; and it is for you, women, who hear me, to
            think what you will do, and what you are willing&#8212;I
            will not say, to <em>consent</em> that those you love
            should do, but what you are willing to
            <em>urge</em> them to do, and to
            send them from your homes, knowing that they will
            do it, whether they live or die." The murderous
            assault upon Charles Sumner in the Senate Chamber
            at Washington by Preston S. Brooks, served to intensify
            the increasing belligerency of the Northern
            temper, to deepen the spreading conviction that the
            irrepressible conflict would be settled not with the
            pen through any more fruitless compromises, but in
            Anglo-Saxon fashion by blood and iron.

         </p>
         <p>
            Amid this general access of the fighting propensity,
            Garrison preserved the integrity of his non-resistant
            principles, his aversion to the use of physical
            force as an anti-slavery weapon. Men like Charles
            Stearns talked of shouldering their Sharp's rifles
            against the Border ruffians as they would against wild
            beasts. For himself, he could not class any of his
            fellow-creatures, however vicious and wicked, on the
            same level with wild beasts. Those wretches were,
            he granted, as bad and brutal as they were represented
            by the free State men of Kansas, but to him
            they were less blameworthy than were their employers
            and indorsers, the pro-slavery President and his
            Cabinet, pro-slavery Congressmen, and judges, and
            doctors of divinity, and editors. Incomparably guilty
            as these "colossal conspirators against the liberty,
            peace, happiness, and safety of the republic" were;
            and, though his moral indignation "against their
            treasonable course" burned like fire, he, nevertheless,
            wished them no harm. He shrank from the idea of
            <a class="newpage" name="P_360" id="P_360" title="P_360"></a>
            the physical collision of man with a brother man,
            and with him all mankind were brothers. No one is
            able to draw a sword or point a rifle at any member
            of the human family, "in a Christian state of mind."
            He held to Jesus, who condemned violence, forbade
            the entertainment by his disciples of retaliatory feelings
            and the use of retaliatory weapons. When Jesus
            said "Love your enemies," he did not mean, "Kill
            them if they go too far."

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison's moral radicalism and political sagacity
            were never exhibited to better advantage than during
            these tremendous years of the crisis. He saw the
            sudden rise of a great political organization opposed
            to the farther extension of slavery to national territory.
            It was by no means a party after his heart, and
            for total and immediate emancipation, and the dissolution
            of the Union, yet he perceived that while this
            was true, it was, nevertheless, in its narrow purpose,
            battling against the slave-power, fighting the slave
            system, and to this extent was worthy of the commendation
            of Abolitionists. "It helps to disseminate no
            small amount of light and knowledge," the reformer
            acutely observed, "in regard to the nature and workings
            of the slave system, being necessitated to do
            this to maintain its position; and thus, for the time
            being, it is moulding public sentiment in the right
            direction, though with no purpose to aid us in the
            specific work we are striving to accomplish, namely,
            the dissolution of the Union, and the abolition of
            slavery throughout the land." While bating no jot
            of his anti-slavery principles, he all the same put in
            practice the apostolic injunction to give credit to
            whom credit is due, by cordially commending what
            <a class="newpage" name="P_361" id="P_361" title="P_361"></a>
            he found worthy of commendation in the purpose
            and policy of the Republican party, and by urging a
            like conduct upon his followers. In the Presidential
            canvass of 1856 his sympathies went strongly with
            Fr&eacute;mont as against Buchanan and Fillmore, although
            his Abolition principles precluded him from voting
            for the Republican candidate or from urging his disciples
            to vote for him. But, barring this moral barrier,
            had he "a million votes to bestow" he "would
            cast them all for Fr&eacute;mont ... not because he is an
            Abolitionist or a Disunionist ... but because he is
            for the non-extension of slavery, in common with the
            great body of the people of the North, whose attachment
            to the Union amounts to idolatry."

         </p>
         <p>
            When the election was over the motto of the
            <i>Liberator</i>
            was still "No union with slaveholders," and
            would have remained the same though Fr&eacute;mont instead
            of Buchanan had triumphed at the polls, until
            indeed the domination of the slave-power had ended,
            and the North and the National Constitution had
            been divorced from all criminal connection with slavery.
            The anti-slavery agitation for the dissolution of
            the Union went on with increased zeal. A State convention,
            called by T.W. Higginson and others, "to
            consider the practicability, probability, and expediency
            of a separation between the free and slave States,
            and to take such other measures as the condition of the
            times may require," met at Worcester, Mass., January
            15, 1857, with Frank W. Bird in the chair, and
            William Lloyd Garrison among the vice-presidents.
            The pioneer's speech on the occasion was a characteristic
            and noteworthy utterance. Its tone throughout
            was grave and argumentative. Here is a specimen
            <a class="newpage" name="P_362" id="P_362" title="P_362"></a>
            of it, and of the way in which he met the most serious
            objection to the Abolition movement for disunion:
            "The air is filled with objections to a movement of this
            kind. I am neither surprised nor disquieted at this.
            One of these is of a very singular nature, and it is
            gravely urged that it is conclusive against disunion.
            It is to this effect: We must remain in the Union
            because it would be inhuman in us to turn our backs
            upon millions of slaves in the Southern States, and to
            leave them to their fate! Men who have never been
            heard of in the anti-slavery ranks, or who are ever
            submitting to a compromise of principle, have their
            bowels wonderfully moved all at once with sympathy
            for the suffering slave! Even our esteemed friend,
            Theodore Parker (who deals in no cant) says, in his
            letter, that he cannot consent to cut himself off from
            the slave population. Now, we who are engaged in
            this movement claim to be equally concerned for the
            liberation of the slave. If we have not yet proved our
            willingness to suffer the loss of all things, rather than
            turn and flee, God knows that we are prepared to
            bear any new cross that He, in His Providence, may
            be disposed to lay upon us. For one, I make no parade
            of my anxiety for the deliverance of those in bondage;
            but I do say that it strikes me as remarkable
            that those who, for a quarter of a century, have borne
            the heat and burden of the day, should have the imputation
            cast upon them of intending to leave four
            millions of slaves in their chains, by seeking the overthrow
            of this Union!...

         </p>
         <p>
            " ... I declare that this talk of leaving the slave
            to his fate is not a true representation of the case;
            and it indicates a strange dullness of comprehension
            <a class="newpage" name="P_363" id="P_363" title="P_363"></a>
            with regard to our position and purpose. What! Is
            it to forsake the slave when I cease to be the aider
            and abettor of his master? What! When the North
            is pressing down upon four millions of slaves like an
            avalanche, and we say to her, 'Take off that pressure&#8212;stand
            aside&#8212;give the slave a chance to regain his
            feet and assert his freedom!' is that turning our
            backs upon him? Here, for example, is a man engaged
            in highway robbery, and another man is acting
            as an accessory, without whose aid the robber cannot
            succeed. In saying to the accomplice. 'Hands off!
            Don't aid the villain!' shall I be told that this is enabling
            the highwayman to rob with impunity? What
            an absurdity! Are we not trying to save the pockets
            of all travelers from being picked in seeking to break
            up all connection with highway robbery?"

         </p>
         <p>
            The convention projected a general convention of
            the free States to consider the subject, and
            "<i>Resolved</i>,
            That the sooner the separation takes place,
            the more peaceful it will be; but that peace or war is
            <em>a secondary consideration</em> in view of our
            present perils.
            Slavery must be conquered, peaceably if we can, forcibly
            if we must." The projected general convention,
            owing to the monetary crisis of 1857, did not take
            place; but the extraordinary public excitement on
            the slavery question increased rather than diminished
            during the year. The increasing menace to the domination
            of the slave-power from this source had become
            so great that it was deemed prudent on the
            part of the upholders of that power to allay it by
            means of an authoritative utterance upon the vexed
            question of slavery in the national Territories from
            the highest judicial tribunal in the Land. The Northern
            <a class="newpage" name="P_364" id="P_364" title="P_364"></a>
            respect for the opinion of the Supreme Court, the
            South and her allies in the free States counted upon
            as the vehicle of the quieting medicament. For, if
            the Missouri Compromise were pronounced by that
            Court unconstitutional and, therefore,
            <i>ab initio</i>, null
            and void, no wrong was done the North through its
            formal repeal by Congress. The act of abrogation,
            in this view, added nothing to the South which did
            not belong to it as well before as after its passage,
            detracted nothing from the North which was justly
            its due in the premises. In pursuance of this cunningly
            devised scheme the Supreme Court delivered
            itself of an opinion in the famous "Dred Scott Case."
            So abhorrent it was to the intelligence and moral sense
            of the free States, that it produced results altogether
            opposed to those designed by the men who invoked
            it. Instead of checking, the execrated judgment
            augmented enormously the existing excitement. Garrison's
            bitter taunt that "the Union is but another
            name for the iron reign of the slave-power," was
            driven home to the North, by the Dred Scott decision,
            with the logic of another unanswerable fact. Confidence
            in the independence and impartiality of the
            Supreme Court was seriously shaken, and widespread
            suspicion struck root at the North touching the subserviency
            of that tribunal to the interests and designs
            of the slave-power.

         </p>
         <p>
            The popular agitation at this fresh and alarming
            evidence of the purpose and power of the South upset
            the machinations of the schemers, swelled the numerical
            strength of the new Northern party opposed to
            the Territorial aggressions and pretensions of the
            slave section. So rapid was the growth of the Republican
            <a class="newpage" name="P_365" id="P_365" title="P_365"></a>
            party that the slave leaders anticipated its
            accession to power at the then next Presidential election.
            So certain were they in their forebodings of defeat
            that they set about in dead earnest to put their
            side of the divided house in order for the impending
            struggle for Southern independence. Military preparations
            went forward with a vengeance, arms and
            munitions of war which were the property of the
            General Government began to move southward, to
            Southern military depots and posts for the defence of
            the United States South, when at last the word
            "<b>DISUNION</b>" should be pronounced
            over the Republic.
            The Lincoln-Douglass debate augmented
            everywhere the excitement, fed the already mighty
            numbers of the new party. More and more the public
            consciousness and conviction were squaring with
            Mr. Lincoln's oracular words in respect that the
            Union could not "endure permanently half slave and
            half free."

         </p>
         <p>
            The darkness and tumult of the rising tempest
            were advancing apace, when suddenly there burst
            from the national firmament the first warning peal of
            thunder, and over Virginia there sped the first bolt of
            the storm. John Brown with his brave little band,
            at Harper's Ferry, had struck for the freedom of the
            slave. Tired of words, the believer in blood and iron
            as a deliverer, had crossed from Pennsylvania into
            Virginia on the evening of October 16, 1859, and
            seized the United States Armory at Harper's Ferry.
            Although soon overpowered, captured, tried, and
            hanged for his pains by the slave-power, the martyr had
            builded better than he knew. For the blow struck by
            him then and there ended almost abruptly the period
            <a class="newpage" name="P_366" id="P_366" title="P_366"></a>
            of argument and ushered in the period of arms. The
            jar from that battle-ax at the roots of the slave system
            hurled together in a death struggle right and
            wrong, freedom and slavery, in the republic.

         </p>
         <p>
            This attempt on the part of John Brown to liberate
            the slaves seemed to Garrison "misguided, wild, and
            apparently insane, though disinterested and well-intended."
            On non-resistant grounds he deplored
            this use of the sword to effect emancipation, and condemned
            the leader. But, judging him according to
            the standard of Bunker Hill and the men of 1776, he
            did not doubt that Brown deserved "to be held in
            grateful and honorable remembrance to the latest posterity,
            by all those who glory in the deeds of a Wallace
            or Tell, a Washington or Warren."

         </p>
         <p>
            The raid of Brown and his subsequent execution,
            and their reception at the North revealed how vast
            was the revolution in public sentiment on the slavery
            question which had taken place there, since the
            murder of Lovejoy, eighteen years before. Lovejoy
            died defending the right of free speech and the
            liberty of the press, yet the Attorney-General of
            Massachusetts declared that "he died as the fool
            dieth." Brown died in an invasion of a slave State,
            and in an effort to emancipate the slaves with a band
            of eighteen followers, and he was acclaimed, from one
            end of the free States to the other, hero and martyr.
            Mr. Garrison commenting on this immensely significant
            fact, acutely and justly observed that: "The
            sympathy and admiration now so widely felt for him,
            prove how marvelous has been the change affected in
            public opinion during the thirty years of moral
            agitation&#8212;a change so great indeed, that whereas,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_367" id="P_367" title="P_367"></a>
            ten years since, there were thousands who could not
            endure my lightest word of rebuke of the South, they
            can now easily swallow John Brown whole and his
            rifle into the bargain. In firing his gun, he has
            merely told us what time of day it is. It is high noon,
            thank God!"

         </p>
         <p>
            But there is another circumstance hardly less significant
            of another change at the North even more
            momentous than the one just noted.

         </p>
         <p>
            On December 2d, the day on which Brown was
            hung, solemn funeral observances were held throughout
            the North by Abolitionists. At the great meeting
            in Boston, held in Tremont Temple, and presided
            over by Samuel E. Sewall, Garrison inquired as to the
            number of non-resistants who were present. To this
            question there came a solitary reply. There was but
            one non-resistant beside himself in the hall. Where
            were his followers? Why had they forsaken their
            principles? The tide of Northern belligerency, which
            was everywhere rising to its flood, everywhere rushing
            and mounting to the tops of those dams which
            separate war and peace had swept away his followers,
            had caused them to forsake their principles.
            True to their Anglo-Saxon instinct, they had reverted
            to the more human, if less Christian method
            of cutting the Gordian knot of the republic with the
            sword.

         </p>
         <p>
            The irresistible drift of the North toward the point
            where peace ends and war begins, which that solitary
            "I" at the John Brown meeting denoted, was still
            further indicated by what appeared not wholly unlike
            a change in Mr. Garrison's attitude on the same subject.
            His non-resistant position was the same, but
            <a class="newpage" name="P_368" id="P_368" title="P_368"></a>
            somehow his face seemed to turn warward too, with
            the rest of the nation, in the following passage taken
            from his address at that John Brown meeting:

         </p>
         <p>
            "Nevertheless, I am a non-resistant," said he,
            speaking to that solitary confession of non-resistance
            principles, "and I not only desire, but have labored
            unremittingly to effect the peaceful abolition of slavery,
            by an appeal to the reason and conscience of the
            slaveholder; yet, as a peace man, an ultra peace
            man, I am prepared to say: Success to every slave
            insurrection at the South, and in every slave country.
            And I do not see how I compromise or stain my peace
            profession in making that declaration. Whenever
            there is a contest between the oppressed and the
            oppressor, the weapons being equal between the parties,
            God knows that my heart must be with the
            oppressed, and always against the oppressor. Therefore,
            whenever commenced, I cannot but wish success
            to all slave insurrections.... Rather than see men
            wearing their chains, in a cowardly and servile spirit,
            I would as an advocate of peace, much rather see them
            breaking the head of the tyrant with their chains.
            Give me, as a non-resistant, Bunker Hill, and Lexington,
            and Concord, rather than the cowardice and
            servility of a Southern slave plantation."

         </p>
         <p>
            The unmistakable signs of disintegration, the swift
            action of the national tragedy, the Charleston Convention,
            the disruption of the Democratic party, the
            last bond between the North and the South, filled
            the heart of the pioneer with solemn joy. "Only
            think of it!" he exulted at the anniversary of the
            American Anti-Slavery Society in New York, May 8,
            1860; "only think of it! the party which has for so
            <a class="newpage" name="P_369" id="P_369" title="P_369"></a>
            many years cried out, 'There must be no agitation on
            this subject' is now the most agitated of all the
            parties in the country. The party which declares that
            there ought not to be any sectionalism as against
            slavery, has now been sundered geographically, and
            on this very question! The party which had said,
            'Let discussions cease forever,' is busily engaged in
            the discussion, so that, possibly, the American Anti-Slavery
            Society might adjourn <i>sine die</i>, after we get
            through with our present meetings, and leave its work
            to be carried on in the other direction!" This was all
            true enough. The sections were at last sundered,
            and a day of wrath was rising dark and dreadful over
            "States dissevered, discordant, belligerent."
            <a class="newpage" name="P_370" id="P_370" title="P_370"></a></p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap20"></a>
            CHAPTER XX.
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            THE DEATH-GRAPPLE.

         </h2>
         <p>
            The triumph of the Republican party at the polls
            was the signal for the work of dissolution to begin.
            Webster's terrific vision of "a land rent with civil
            feuds" became reality in the short space of six
            weeks after Lincoln's election, by the secession of
            South Carolina from the Union. Quickly other
            Southern States followed, until a United States South
            was organized, the chief stone in the corner of the
            new political edifice being Negro slavery. It was not
            six weeks after the inauguration of Abraham Lincoln,
            when the roar of cannon in Charleston Harbor announced
            to the startled country that war between the
            States had begun. The first call of the new President
            for troops to put down the rebellion and to save
            the Union, and the patriotic uprising which it evoked
            made it plain that the struggle thus opened was to
            be nothing less than a death-grapple between the two
            sections.

         </p>
         <p>
            Before the attack on Fort Sumter, Garrison was
            opposed to coercing the rebel States back into the
            Union. He admitted the Constitutional power of
            the National Government to employ force in maintaining
            the integrity of the Republic. "The Federal
            Government must not pretend to be in actual operation,
            embracing thirty-four States," the editor of the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_371" id="P_371" title="P_371"></a><i>Liberator</i> commented, "and then allow
            the seceding States to trample upon its flag, steal its property, and
            defy its authority with impunity; for it would then
            be (as it is at this moment) a mockery and a laughing-stock.
            Nevertheless to think of whipping the South
            (for she will be a unit on the question of slavery) into
            subjection, and extorting allegiance from millions of
            people at the cannon's mouth, is utterly chimerical.
            True, it is in the power of the North to deluge her
            soil with blood, and inflict upon her the most terrible
            sufferings; but not to conquer her spirit, or change
            her determination."

         </p>
         <p>
            He, therefore, proposed that "the people of the
            North should recognize the fact that
            <b>THE UNION IS DISSOLVED</b>,
            and act accordingly. They should see, in
            the madness of the South, the hand of God, liberating
            them from 'a covenant with death' and an 'agreement
            with hell,' made in a time of terrible peril, and
            without a conception of its inevitable consequences,
            and which has corrupted their morals, poisoned their
            religion, petrified their humanity as towards the millions
            in bondage, tarnished their character, harassed
            their peace, burdened them with taxation, shackled
            their prosperity, and brought them into abject
            vassalage."

         </p>
         <p>
            It is not to be wondered at that Garrison, under
            the circumstances, was for speeding the South rather
            than obstructing her way out of the Union. For
            hardly ever had the anti-slavery cause seen greater
            peril than that which hung over it during the months
            which elapsed between Lincoln's election and the
            attack on Sumter, owing to the paralyzing apprehensions
            to which the free States fell a prey in view of the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_372" id="P_372" title="P_372"></a>
            then impending disruption of their glorious Union.
            Indeed no sacrifice of anti-slavery accomplishments,
            policy, and purpose of those States were esteemed too
            important or sacred to make, if thereby the dissolution
            of the Union might be averted. Many, Republicans
            as well as Democrats, were for repealing the
            Personal Liberty Laws, and for the admission of
            New Mexico as a State, with or without slavery, for
            the enforcement of the Fugitive State Law, for suppressing
            the right of free speech and the freedom of
            the press on the subject of slavery, and for surrendering
            the Northern position in opposition to the extension
            of slavery to national Territories, in order to
            placate the South and keep it in the Union. Nothing
            could have possibly been more disastrous to the
            anti-slavery movement in America than a Union
            saved on the terms proposed by such Republican
            leaders as William H. Seward, Charles Francis Adams,
            Thomas Corwin, and Andrew G. Curtin. The Union,
            under the circumstances, was sure death to the slave,
            in disunion lay his great life-giving hope. Therefore
            his tried and sagacious friend was for sacrificing
            the Union to win for him freedom.

         </p>
         <p>
            As the friends of the Union were disposed to haggle
            at no price to preserve it, so was Garrison disposed
            to barter the Union itself in exchange for the abolition
            of slavery. "Now, then, let there be a <b>CONVENTION
               OF THE FREE STATES</b>," he suggested, "called to
            organize an independent government on free and
            just principles; and let them say to the slave States:
            Though you are without excuse for your treasonable
            conduct, depart in peace! Though you have
            laid piratical hands on property not your own, we
            <a class="newpage" name="P_373" id="P_373" title="P_373"></a>
            surrender it all in the spirit of magnanimity! And
            if nothing but the possession of the Capitol will
            appease you, take even that without a struggle! Let
            the line be drawn between us where free institutions
            end and slave institutions begin!"

         </p>
         <p>
            But the thunder of the rebel guns in Charleston
            Harbor wrought in the reformer a complete revolution
            in this regard. In the tremendous popular uprising
            which followed that insult to the national
            flag he perceived that the old order with its compromises
            and dispositions to agree to anything, to do
            anything for the sake of preserving the Union had
            passed away forever. When it was suggested as an
            objection to his change of base that the "Administration
            is endeavoring to uphold the Union, the Constitution,
            and the Laws, even as from the formation
            of the Government," he was not for a moment deceived
            by its apparent force, but replied sagely that
            "this is a verbal and technical view of the case."
            "Facts are more potential than words," he remarked
            with philosophic composure, "and events greater
            than parchment arrangements. The truth is, the
            old Union is <i>nan est invenius</i>,
            and its restoration, with
            its pro-slavery compromises, well-nigh impossible.
            The conflict is really between the civilization of
            freedom and the barbarism of slavery&#8212;between the
            principles of democracy and the doctrines of absolutism&#8212;between
            the free North and the man-imbruting
            South; therefore, to this extent hopeful for the cause
            of impartial liberty."

         </p>
         <p>
            With the instinct of wise leadership, he adjusted
            himself and his little band of Abolitionists, as far as
            he was able, to the exigencies of the revolution. In
            <a class="newpage" name="P_374" id="P_374" title="P_374"></a>
            his madness there was always remarkable method.
            When the nation was apathetic, dead on the subject
            of slavery, he used every power which he possessed
            or could invent to galvanize it into life. But with the
            prodigious excitement which swept over the free
            States at the outbreak of the war, Garrison saw that
            the crisis demanded different treatment. Abolitionists
            and their moral machinery he felt should be withdrawn,
            for a season at least, from their conspicuous
            place before the public gaze, lest it happen that they
            should divert the current of public opinion from the
            South to themselves, and thus injure the cause of
            the slave. He accordingly deemed it highly expedient
            that the usual anniversary of the American
            Anti-Slavery Society, held in New York, ought,
            under the circumstances, to be postponed, coming
            as it would but a few weeks after the attack on
            Sumter, and in the midst of the tremendous loyal
            uprising against the rebels. This he did, adding, by
            way of caution, this timely counsel: "Let nothing be
            done at this solemn crisis needlessly to check or divert
            the mighty current of popular feeling which is now
            sweeping southward with the strength and impetuosity
            of a thousand Niagaras, in direct conflict with
            that haughty and perfidious slave-power which has
            so long ruled the republic with a rod of iron, for its
            own base and satanic purposes."

         </p>
         <p>
            The singular tact and sagacity of the pioneer in
            this emergency may be again seen in a letter to Oliver
            Johnson, who was at the time editing the
            <i>Anti-Slavery Standard</i>.
            Says the pioneer: "Now that civil war
            has begun, and a whirlwind of violence and excitement
            is to sweep through the country, every day increasing
            <a class="newpage" name="P_375" id="P_375" title="P_375"></a>
            in interest until its bloodiest culmination, it
            is for the Abolitionists to 'stand still and see the salvation
            of God,' rather than to attempt to add anything
            to the general commotion. It is no time for
            minute criticism of Lincoln, Republicanism, or even
            the other parties, now that they are fusing, for a
            death-grapple with the Southern slave oligarchy; for
            they are instruments in the hands of God to carry
            forward and help achieve the great object of emancipation
            for which we have so long been striving....
            We need great circumspection and consummate
            wisdom in regard to what we may say and do under
            these unparalleled circumstances. We are rather, for
            the time being, to note the events transpiring than
            seek to control them. There must be no needless
            turning of popular violence upon ourselves by any
            false step of our own."

         </p>
         <p>
            The circumspection, the tact, and sagacity which
            marked his conduct at the beginning of the rebellion
            characterized it to the close of the war, albeit at no
            time doing or saying aught to compromise his anti-slavery
            principle of total and immediate emancipation.
            On the contrary, he urged, early and late, upon
            Congress and the President the exercise of the war
            power to put an end for ever to slavery. Radical
            Abolitionists like Stephen S. Foster were for denying
            to the Administration anti-slavery support and countenance,
            and for continuing to heap upon the Government
            their denunciations until it placed itself
            "openly and unequivocally on the side of freedom,"
            by issuing the edict of emancipation. Against this
            zeal without discretion Garrison warmly protested.
            "I cannot say that I do not sympathize with the Government,"
            <a class="newpage" name="P_376" id="P_376" title="P_376"></a>
            said he, "as against Jefferson Davis and
            his piratical associates. There is not a drop of blood
            in my veins, both as an Abolitionist and a peace man,
            that does not flow with the Northern tide of sentiment;
            for I see, in this grand uprising of the manhood
            of the North, which has been so long groveling
            in the dust, a growing appreciation of the value of
            liberty and free institutions, and a willingness to
            make any sacrifice in their defence against the barbaric
            and tyrannical power which avows its purpose,
            if it can, to crush them entirely out of existence.
            When the Government shall succeed (if it shall succeed)
            in conquering a peace, in subjugating the South,
            and shall undertake to carry out the Constitution as
            of old, with all its pro-slavery compromises, then will
            be my time to criticise, reprove, and condemn; then
            will be the time for me to open all the guns that I
            can bring to bear upon it. But blessed be God that
            'covenant with death' has been annulled, and that
            'agreement with hell' no longer stands. I joyfully
            accept the fact, and leave all verbal criticism until a
            more suitable opportunity."

         </p>
         <p>
            But it must be confessed that at times during the
            struggle, Lincoln's timidity and apparent indifference
            as to the fate of slavery, in his anxiety to save the
            Union, weakened Garrison's confidence in him, and
            excited his keenest apprehensions "at the possibility
            of the war terminating without the utter extinction
            of slavery, by a new and more atrocious compromise
            on the part of the North than any that has yet been
            made." The pioneer therefore adjudged it prudent
            to get his battery into position and to visit upon the
            President for particular acts, such as the revocation
            <a class="newpage" name="P_377" id="P_377" title="P_377"></a>
            of anti-slavery orders by sundry of his generals in the
            field, and upon particular members of his Cabinet
            who were understood to be responsible for the shuffling,
            hesitating action of the Government in its relation
            to slavery, an effective fire of criticism and
            rebuke.

         </p>
         <p>
            Nevertheless Mr. Garrison maintained toward the
            Government a uniform tone of sympathy and moderation.
            "I hold," said he, in reply to strictures of Mr.
            Phillips upon the President at the annual meeting of
            the Massachusetts Society in 1862; "I hold that it is
            not wise for us to be too microscopic in endeavoring
            to find disagreeable and annoying things, still less to
            assume that everything is waxing worse and worse,
            and that there is little or no hope." He himself was full
            of hope which no shortcomings of the Government
            was able to quench. He was besides beginning to
            understand the perplexities which beset the administration,
            to appreciate the problem which confronted
            the great statesman who was at the head of the
            nation. He was getting a clear insight into the workings
            of Lincoln's mind, and into the causes which
            gave to his political pilotage an air of timidity and
            indecision.

         </p>
         <p>
            "Supposing Mr. Lincoln could answer to-night,"
            continued the pioneer in reply to his less patient and
            hopeful coadjutors, "and we should say to him:
            'Sir, with the power in your hands, slavery being the
            cause of the rebellion beyond all controversy, why
            don't you put the trump of jubilee to your lips, and
            proclaim universal freedom?'&#8212;possibly he might
            answer: 'Gentlemen, I understand this matter quite
            as well as you do. I do not know that I differ in
            <a class="newpage" name="P_378" id="P_378" title="P_378"></a>
            opinion from you; but will you insure me the support
            of a united North if I do as you bid me? Are all
            parties and all sects at the North so convinced and so
            united on this point that they will stand by the Government?
            If so, give me the evidence of it, and I will
            strike the blow. But, gentlemen, looking over the
            entire North, and seeing in all your towns and cities
            papers representing a considerable, if not a formidable
            portion of the people, menacing and bullying the
            Government in case it dared to liberate the slaves,
            even as a matter of self-preservation, I do not feel
            that the hour has yet come that will render it safe for
            the Government to take that step.' I am willing to
            believe that something of this kind weighs in the
            mind of the President and the Cabinet, and that there
            is some ground for hesitancy as a mere matter of
            political expediency." This admirable and discriminating
            support of the President finds another capital
            illustration in weighty words of his in answer to animadversions
            of Prof. Francis W. Newman, of England,
            directed against Mr. Lincoln. Says Garrison:
            "In no instance, however, have I censured him (Lincoln)
            for not acting upon the highest abstract principles
            of justice and humanity, and disregarding his
            Constitutional obligations. His freedom to follow
            his convictions of duty as an individual is one thing&#8212;as
            the President of the United States, it is limited by
            the functions of his office, for the people do not elect
            a President to play the part of reformer or philanthropist,
            nor to enforce upon the nation his own
            peculiar ethical or humanitary ideas without regard
            to his oath or their will."

         </p>
         <p>
            Great indeed was the joy of the pioneer when President
            <a class="newpage" name="P_379" id="P_379" title="P_379"></a>
            Lincoln on January 1, 1863, issued his Emancipation
            Proclamation. The same sagacious and statesmanlike
            handling of men and things distinguished
            his conduct after the edict of freedom was made as
            before. When the question of Reconstruction was
            broached in an administrative initiative in Louisiana,
            the President gave great offence to the more
            radical members of his party, and to many Abolitionists
            by his proposal to readmit Louisiana to Statehood
            in the Union with no provision for the extension of
            the suffrage to the negro. This exhibition of the
            habitual caution and conservatism of Mr. Lincoln
            brought upon him a storm of criticism and remonstrances,
            but not from Garrison. There was
            that in him which appreciated and approved the
            evident disposition of the President to make haste
            slowly in departing from the American principle of
            local self-government even in the interest of liberty.
            Then, too, he had his misgivings in relation to the virtue
            of the fiat method of transforming chattels into
            citizens. "Chattels personal may be instantly translated
            from the auction-block into freemen," he remarked
            in defence of the administrative policy in the
            reconstruction of Louisiana, "but when were they
            ever taken at the same time to the ballot-box, and invested
            with all political rights and immunities? According
            to the laws of development and progress it is
            not practicable.... Besides, I doubt whether he has
            the Constitutional right to decide this matter. Ever
            since the Government was organized, the right of suffrage
            has been determined by each State in the Union
            for itself, so that there is no uniformity in regard to it.

         </p>
         <p>
            " ... In honestly seeking to preserve the Union, it
            <a class="newpage" name="P_380" id="P_380" title="P_380"></a>
            is not for President Lincoln to seek, by a special
            edict applied to a particular State or locality, to do
            violence to a universal rule, accepted and acted upon
            from the beginning till now by the States in their individual
            sovereignty.... Nor, if the freed blacks
            were admitted to the polls by Presidential fiat do I
            see any permanent advantage likely to be secured by
            it; for, submitted to as a necessity at the outset, as
            soon as the State was organized and left to manage
            its own affairs, the white population with their superior
            intelligence, wealth, and power, would unquestionably
            alter the franchise in accordance with their
            prejudices, and exclude those thus summarily brought
            to the polls. Coercion would gain nothing." A very
            remarkable prophecy, which has since been exactly
            fulfilled in the Southern States. Garrison, however,
            in the subsequent struggle between Congress and Mr.
            Lincoln's successor over this selfsame point in its
            wider relation to all of the Southern States, took
            sides against Andrew Johnson and in favor of the Congressional
            fiat method of transforming chattels personal
            into citizens. The elimination of Abraham Lincoln
            from, and the introduction of Andrew Johnson
            upon the National stage at this juncture, did undoubtedly
            effect such a change of circumstances, as
            to make the Congressional fiat method a political necessity.
            It was distinctly the less of two evils which
            at the moment was thrust upon the choice of the
            Northern people.

         </p>
         <p>
            The same breadth and liberality of view, which
            marked his treatment of Mr. Lincoln upon the subject
            of emancipation and of that of reconstruction,
            marked his treatment also of other questions which
            <a class="newpage" name="P_381" id="P_381" title="P_381"></a>
            the suppression of the rebellion presented to his consideration.
            Although a radical peace man, how just
            was his attitude toward the men and the measures
            of the War for the Union. Nothing that he did
            evinced on his part greater tact or toleration than his
            admirable behavior in this respect. To his eldest son,
            George Thompson, who was no adherent of the doctrine
            of non-resistance, and who was commissioned by
            Governor Andrew, a second lieutenant in the Fifty-fifth
            Massachusetts Regiment, the pioneer wrote expressing
            his regret that the young lieutenant had not
            been able "to adopt those principles of peace which
            are so sacred and divine to my soul, yet you will bear
            me witness that I have not laid a straw in your way
            to prevent your acting up to your own highest convictions
            of duty." Such was precisely his attitude
            toward the North who, he believed, in waging war
            against the South for the maintenance of the Union,
            was acting up to her own highest convictions of duty.
            And not a straw would he place across her path, under
            those circumstances, though every step bore witness
            to one of the most gigantic and destructive wars in
            history.

         </p>
         <p>
            Garrison did not have to wait for posthumous appreciation
            from his countrymen. His steady and
            discriminating support of the Government, and his
            ardent sympathy with the arms of the North won him
            appreciation in his lifetime. Indeed, there came to him,
            if not popularity, something closely akin to it during
            the war. His visit to the capital in June, 1864, well
            illustrates the marvelous changes which had taken
            place in the Union touching himself and his cause.
            On his way to Washington the pioneer stopped over
            <a class="newpage" name="P_382" id="P_382" title="P_382"></a>
            at Baltimore, which he had not revisited for thirty-four
            years, and where the Republican Convention,
            which renominated Lincoln was in session. He
            watched the proceedings from the gallery, and witnessed
            with indescribable emotions the enthusiastic
            demonstrations of joy with which the whole body of
            delegates greeted the radical anti-slavery resolution
            of the Convention. To the reformer it was "a full
            indorsement of all the Abolition fanaticism and
            incendiarism" with which he had been branded for
            years. The jail where he had been held a prisoner
            for seven weeks, like the evil which he had denounced,
            was gone, and a new one stood in its place,
            which knew not Garrison. In the court-house where
            he was tried and sentenced he was received by a
            United States judge as an illustrious visitor. Judge
            Bond hunted up the old indictment against the junior
            editor of the
            <i>Genius of Universal Emancipation</i>, where
            it had lain for a generation, during which that guiltless
            prisoner had started a movement which had
            shaken the nation by its mighty power, and slavery
            out of it. "Eight or nine of the original jurymen
            who gave the verdict against Mr. Garrison are still
            living," wrote Theodore Tilton, at the time, to the
            <i>Independent</i>, "and Judge Bond jocosely
            threatened to summon them all into Court, that Mr. Garrison might
            forgive them in public."

         </p>
         <p>
            At Washington the pioneer's reception seemed to
            him like a dream. And no wonder. He was heartily
            received by President Lincoln and Secretary Stanton.
            He was accorded the most marked attentions on the
            floor of both branches of Congress. On every side
            there rose up witnesses to the vastness of the revolution
            <a class="newpage" name="P_383" id="P_383" title="P_383"></a>
            which had taken place, and to the fact that the
            great Abolitionist was no longer esteemed an enemy
            of the Republic but one of its illustrious citizens.
            This was evinced in a signal and memorable manner
            a little later when the National Government extended
            to him an invitation to visit Fort Sumter as its guest
            on the occasion of the re-raising over it of the Stars
            and Stripes. He went, and so also went George
            Thompson, his lifelong friend and coadjutor, who
            was the recipient of a similar invitation from the
            Secretary of War.

         </p>
         <p>
            This visit of Mr. Garrison, taken in all its dramatic
            features, is more like a chapter of fiction, with its
            strange and improbable incidents and situations, than
            a story of real life. The pioneer entered Georgia
            and trod the streets of Savannah, whose legislature
            thirty-three years before had set a price upon his
            head. In Charleston he witnessed the vast ruin which
            the war had wrought, realized how tremendous had
            been the death-struggle between Freedom and
            Slavery, and saw everywhere he turned that slavery
            was beaten, was dead in its proud, rebellious center.
            Thousands upon thousands of the people whose
            wrongs he had made his own, whose woes he had
            carried in his soul for thirty-five years, greeted him,
            their deliverer, in all stages of joy and thanksgiving.
            They poured out at his feet their overflowing love and
            gratitude. They covered him with flowers, bunches
            of jessamines, and honeysuckles and roses in the
            streets of Charleston, hard by the grave where Calhoun
            lay buried. "'Only listen to that in Charleston
            streets!' exclaimed Garrison, on hearing the band of
            one of the black regiments playing the air of 'Old
            <a class="newpage" name="P_384" id="P_384" title="P_384"></a>
            John Brown', and we both broke into tears," relates
            Rev. Theodore L. Cuyler, who stood by the side of
            the pioneer that April morning under the spire of
            St. Michael's church.

         </p>
         <p>
            "The Government has its hold upon the throat of
            the monster, slavery," Mr. Garrison assured an audience
            of nearly four thousand freedmen, "and is
            strangling the life out of it." It was even so. Richmond
            had fallen, and Lee had surrendered. The
            early and total collapse of the rebellion was impending.
            The Government was, indeed, strangling the
            life out of it and out of slavery, its cause and mainspring.
            The monster had, however, a crowning horror
            to add to a long list of horrors before fetching its
            last gasp. The assassination of President Lincoln
            was the dying blow of slavery, aimed through him at
            the Union which he had maintained. Appalling as
            was the deed, it was vain, for the Union was saved,
            and liberty forever secured to the new-born nation.
            As Garrison remarked at the tomb of Calhoun, on
            the morning that Lincoln died, "Down into a deeper
            grave than this slavery has gone, and for it there is
            no resurrection."
            <a class="newpage" name="P_385" id="P_385" title="P_385"></a></p>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="chap21"></a>
            CHAPTER XXI
            <br><br><br><br><br><br>
            THE LAST.

         </h2>
         <p>
            "Garrison," said George Thompson on the steamer
            which was conveying the Government party out of
            Charleston Harbor on their return trip; "Garrison
            you began your warfare at the North in the face of
            rotten eggs and brickbats. Behold you end it at
            Charleston on a bed of roses!" The period of persecution
            had indeed ended, the reign of missiles had
            ceased, but with the roses there came to the pioneer
            not a few thorns. Bitter was the sorrow which visited
            him in the winter of 1863. Without warning his
            wife was on the night of December 29th, stricken with
            paralysis, which crippled her for the rest of her life.
            No words can adequately express all that she had
            been to the reformer in his struggle with slavery.
            She was a providential woman raised up to be the wife
            and helpmate of her husband, the strenuous man
            of God. "As a wife for a period of more
            than twenty-six years," he wrote her on the completion
            of her fiftieth year, "you have left nothing
            undone to smooth the rugged pathway of my public
            career&#8212;to render home the all-powerful magnet of
            attraction, and the focal point of domestic enjoyment&#8212;to
            make my welfare and happiness at all times
            a matter of tender solicitude&#8212;and to demonstrate the
            depth and fixedness of that love which you so long
            <a class="newpage" name="P_386" id="P_386" title="P_386"></a>
            ago plighted to me.... Whatever of human
            infirmity we may have seen in each other, I believe
            few have enjoyed more unalloyed bliss in wedded
            life than ourselves." For twelve years after that sad
            December night the lovely invalid was the object of
            her husband's most tender and assiduous care. And
            when at last she left him in January, 1876, the loneliness
            which fell upon his heart seemed more than he
            could bear.

         </p>
         <p>
            Differences with old associates was a grievous thorn
            which came to the pioneer during the progress of the
            war. The first marked disagreement between him
            and them occurred at the annual meeting of the Massachusetts
            Anti-Slavery Society not a month after
            his wife's prostration. The clash came between the
            leader and his great coadjutor Wendell Phillips over
            a resolution introduced by the latter, condemning the
            Government and declaring its readiness "to sacrifice
            the interest and honor of the North to secure a sham
            peace." Garrison objected to the severity of this
            charge. He believed that there was but one party at
            the North of which it was true, and that was the
            party of Copperheads. He endeavored, therefore, to
            modify the harshness of the resolution by giving it
            a more moderate tone. But the anti-Lincoln feeling
            of the Convention proved too strong for his resistance,
            and Mr. Phillips's resolution was finally adopted
            as the sentiment of the society.

         </p>
         <p>
            The discordant note thus struck grew sharper and
            louder during the year. The divergence of views in
            the ranks of the Abolitionists touching the Southern
            policy of the Administration grew wider, until the
            subject of Mr. Lincoln's renomination sundered the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_387" id="P_387" title="P_387"></a>
            little band into two wings&#8212;one for renomination,
            headed by Garrison, the other against renomination,
            and led by Phillips. These differences presently
            developed into, if not positive antagonism, then something
            closely akin to it between the two wings and
            the two leaders. No little heat was generated from
            the strong, sharp things said on both sides. Garrison
            was wiser than Phillips in his unwillingness to have
            the country, in the homely speech of the President,
            "swap horses while crossing a stream."

         </p>
         <p>
            Serious differences of opinion sprang up also between
            the two leaders and the two wings in relation
            to the proper time for dissolving the anti-slavery
            organizations. Garrison held on one side that this
            time had come with the adoption of the thirteenth
            amendment abolishing slavery, while Phillips held on
            the other that the societies should continue their
            operations until the negro was invested with the right
            to vote. And here it seems that Phillips was wiser
            than Garrison in his purpose not to abandon in 1865
            the old machinery for influencing public sentiment
            in the negro's interest.

         </p>
         <p>
            At the anniversary of the American Anti-Slavery
            Society, in May, 1865, Garrison contended for its dissolution,
            declaring that "Nothing is more clear in
            my own mind, nothing has ever been more clear, than
            that this is the fitting time to dissolve our organization,
            and to mingle with the millions of our fellow-countrymen
            in one common effort to establish justice
            and liberty throughout the land." For two days the
            debate upon this question raged in the convention,
            but when the vote was taken it was found that a large
            majority of the delegates agreed with Mr. Phillips.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_388" id="P_388" title="P_388"></a>
            Mr. Garrison was, nevertheless, re&euml;lected President,
            but declined and withdrew from the society. The
            controversy was renewed at the annual meeting of the
            Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society in January, 1866.
            But here again a large majority voted against dissolution.
            Warm words fell from both Garrison and
            Phillips and their respective supporters, which tried
            sorely the friendship of the two leaders.

         </p>
         <p>
            In accordance with his views touching the discontinuance
            of the anti-slavery societies, Garrison discontinued
            the publication of the <i>Liberator</i> after the
            completion of its thirty-fifth volume in December,
            1865. He did not mean by this act to cease his
            labors for the negro. Far from it. For he, like
            Phillips, stood for his absolute equality before the
            law. But he perceived that old things had passed
            away, and with them the need of the old instruments,
            and that what remained to be done for the black man
            required to be done with new means. "The object,"
            said he in his valedictory, "for which the
            <i>Liberator</i>
            was commenced, the extermination of chattel slavery,
            having been gloriously consummated, it seems to me
            specially appropriate to let its existence cover the
            historic period of the great struggle; leaving what
            remains to be done to complete the work of emancipation
            to other instrumentalites (of which I hope to
            avail myself), under new auspices, with more abundant
            means, and with millions instead of hundreds
            for allies."

         </p>
         <p>
            With the discontinuance of the <i>Liberator</i>
            Garrison's occupation, from which he had derived a regular
            though somewhat uncertain income for the support
            of his family, was gone. He was not in destitute circumstances,
            <a class="newpage" name="P_389" id="P_389" title="P_389"></a>
            however, thanks to the generosity of
            friends, who had already secured him the home in
            Roxbury, where he spent the remaining years of his
            life. He had also been one of the legatees under the
            will of Charles F. Hovey, who left about forty thousand
            dollars to the anti-slavery cause. But the age
            of the reformer, he was then sixty, and the state of
            his health, which was much impaired, together with
            the helplessness of his wife, made some provision for
            his and her support, other than the little which he
            possessed, a matter of anxious thought on the part
            of himself and his friends. He had given thirty-five
            years of his life to the public good. His services to
            his country and to the world were above all price, all
            money considerations. It was felt that to him who
            had given so much to the world, the world should in
            his need make some substantial acknowledgement in
            return.

         </p>
         <p>
            Some of his countrymen, accordingly, conceived
            the plan of a national testimonial to the philanthropist,
            which should ensure to him during the rest of
            his life a competence.

         </p>
         <p>
            A committee having this end in view was organized
            March 28, 1866, at the house of Dr. Henry I. Bowditch.
            John A. Andrew, who was its chairman, wrote
            the address to the public, to which were appended
            the chief names in the politics and literature of the
            land. Nearly two years afterward, on March 10, 1868,
            the committee were able to place in Mr. Garrison's
            hands the handsome sum of thirty-one thousand dollars
            with a promise of possibly one or two thousand
            more a little later. To the energy and devotedness of
            one man, the Rev. Samuel May, Jr., more than to any
            <a class="newpage" name="P_390" id="P_390" title="P_390"></a>
            other, and perhaps than all others put together, this
            noble achievement was due. The pioneer was
            deeply moved at the high and generous character of
            the recognition accorded his labors. "Little, indeed,
            did I know or anticipate how prolonged or how virulent
            would be the struggle," said he in his reply to
            the committee, "when I lifted up the standard of
            immediate emancipation, and essayed to rouse the
            nation to a sense of its guilt and danger. But having
            put my hands to the plow, how could I look
            back? For, in a cause so righteous, I could not
            doubt that, having turned the furrows, if I sowed in
            tears I should one day reap in joy. But, whether
            permitted to live to witness the abolition of slavery
            or not, I felt assured that, as I demanded nothing
            that was not clearly in accordance with justice and
            humanity, sometime or other, if remembered at all,
            I should stand vindicated in the eyes of my countrymen."
            The names of John Bright, John Stuart Mill,
            William E. Foster, and Samuel Morley, among the
            contributors to the fund, lent to the testimonial an
            international character.

         </p>
         <p>
            In May, 1867, Garrison went abroad the fourth
            time, and traveled in Great Britain and on the Continent.
            Everywhere that he went he was received as
            an illustrious visitor and as a benefactor of mankind.
            At a breakfast in London which "was intended to commemorate
            one of the greatest of the great triumphs
            of freedom, and to do honor to a most eminent instrument
            in the achievement of that freedom," and at
            which were gathered the genius, the wealth, and
            aristocracy of England and Scotland, John Bright,
            who presided, welcomed the illustrious guest "with
            <a class="newpage" name="P_391" id="P_391" title="P_391"></a>
            a cordiality which knows no stint and no limit for
            him and for his noble associates, both men and
            women," and ventured to speak a verdict which he
            believed would be sanctioned by all mankind, viz.,
            that "William Lloyd Garrison and his fellow-laborers
            in that world's work&#8212;are they not

         </p>
         <div class="lg">"On Fame's eternal bead-roll worthy to be filed?"<br><br></div>
         <p>
            With the discontinuance of the <i>Liberator</i>
            Garrison's active career came to a close. But his sympathetic
            interest in the freedmen, temperance, the cause of
            women, and in other reformatory enterprises continued
            unabated. He watched with stern and vigilant
            eye, and bleeding heart the new rebellion at the
            South whose purpose was the nullification of the civil
            and political rights of the blacks, and the overthrow
            of the military rule of the National Government in
            the Southern States. He did not see what time has
            since made clear that a genuine reconstruction
            of the South, and the ultimate solution of
            the Southern problem had, in accordance with
            social laws, to proceed from within, from the South
            itself, not from without and from Washington. The
            old fire again burned in his speech as tidings of the
            violence of the whites and the sufferings of the blacks
            reached him from the former slave section. Indeed,
            the last written words of his, addressed to the public,
            were words in defence of the race to whose freedom
            he had devoted his life&#8212;words which, trumpet-tongued
            raised anew the rallying-cry of "Liberty and
            equal rights for each, for all, and for ever, wherever
            the lot of man is cast within our broad domains!"

         </p>
         <p>
            True to his grand motto "My country is the world!
            my countrymen are all mankind," he espoused the
            <a class="newpage" name="P_392" id="P_392" title="P_392"></a>
            cause of the Chinese, and denounced the National policy
            of excluding them on the ground of race from the
            republic but a few months before his death. The anti-Chinese
            movement appeared to him "narrow, conceited,
            selfish, anti-human, anti-Christian." "Against
            this hateful spirit of caste," wrote the dying philanthropist,
            "I have earnestly protested for the last fifty
            years, wherever it has developed itself, especially in
            the case of another class, for many generations still
            more contemned, degraded, and oppressed; and the
            time has fully come to deal with it as an offence to
            God, and a curse to the world wherever it seeks to
            bear sway."

         </p>
         <p>
            On the same grand principle of human fraternity
            Mr. Garrison dealt with the questions of trade and
            tariffs also. He believed in liberty, civil, religious,
            and commercial. He was in fact a radical free trader
            on moral and humanitary grounds. "He is the most
            sagacious political economist," was a remark of his,
            "who contends for the highest justice, the most far-reaching
            equality, a close adherence to natural laws,
            and the removal of all those restrictions which foster
            national pride and selfishness." And here is another
            like unto it: "Believing that the interests of the
            American people in no wise materially differ from
            those of the people of any other country, and denying
            the rectitude or feasibility of building ourselves up
            at their expense by an exclusive policy, obstructing
            the natural flow of material exchanges, I avow myself
            to be a radical free trader, even to the extent of
            desiring the abolition of all custom-houses, as now
            constituted, throughout the world. That event is far
            distant, undoubtedly, but I believe it will come with
            <a class="newpage" name="P_393" id="P_393" title="P_393"></a>
            the freedom and enlightenment of mankind. My
            faith is absolute that it will prove advantageous to
            every branch of industry, whether at home or abroad."

         </p>
         <p>
            The closing years of the reformer's life were years
            of great bodily suffering. A disease of the kidneys
            and a chronic catarrh of the head made steady
            inroads upon the resources of his constitution, made
            life at times a wheel on which he was racked with
            physical tortures, all of which he bore with the utmost
            fortitude and serenity of spirit. "The longer I
            live, the longer I desire to live," he wrote Samuel J.
            May, "and the more I see the desirableness of living;
            yet certainly not in this frail body, but just as it shall
            please the dear Father of us all." One by one he
            saw the little band of which he was leader dwindle
            as now one and now another dropped by the way.
            And it was he or Mr. Phillips, or both, who spoke the
            last loving words over their coffins. As the little
            band passed on to the unseen country, a new joy
            awoke in the soul of the leader left behind, the joy of
            anticipation, of glad reunion beyond the grave. "How
            unspeakably pleasant it will be to greet them, and to
            be greeted by them on the other side of the line," it
            seemed to him as he, too, began to descend toward
            the shore of the swift, silent river. The deep, sweet
            love for his mother returned with youthful freshness
            and force to him, the man of seventy-three years, at
            the thought of coming again into her presence. A
            strange yearning was tugging at his heart for all the
            dear ones gone before. The fond mother, who had
            watched over his childhood, and the fond wife, who
            had been the stay of his manhood, were the first two
            whom he yearned to meet after crossing the river.
            <a class="newpage" name="P_394" id="P_394" title="P_394"></a>
            The joyous thought of his approaching meeting
            with those white-souled women cheered and comforted
            the reformer amid excruciating physical sufferings.
            Worn out by heroic and Herculean labors for
            mankind and by a complication of diseases, he more
            and more longed for rest, to go home to beloved
            ones as he expressed it. To the question, "What do
            you want, Mr. Garrison?" asked by the attending
            physician on the day before his death, he replied,
            weariedly, "To finish it up!" And this he did at the
            home of his daughter, Mrs. Henry Villard, in New
            York, in the midst of children and grandchildren,
            near midnight, on May 24, 1879.

         </p>
         <p>
            "While that ear could listen," said Wendell
            Phillips over the illustrious champion of liberty as
            he lay dead in the old church in Roxbury; "While
            that ear could listen, God gave what he has rarely
            given to man, the plaudits and prayers of four millions
            of victims." But as he lay there he had, besides,
            the plaudits and praise of an emancipated nation.
            The plaudits and praise of an emancipated race, mingling
            melodiously with those of an emancipated nation
            made noble music about his bier. In the city, where
            forty-three years before he was mobbed, the flags
            floated at half-mast in his honor; and on Beacon
            Hill, where the Government once desired his destruction,
            the voice of appreciation was heard and tokens
            of the State's sorrow met the eye. Great in life
            great also in death was William Lloyd Garrison.

         </p>
         <div class="poem">
            <h3><a name="Lowell"></a></h3>
            <div class="lg">"Men of a thousand shifts and wiles, look here!<br>See one straightforward conscience put in pawn<br>To win a world; see the obedient sphere<br>By bravery's simple gravitation drawn!<br><br></div>
            <div class="lg"><a class="newpage" name="P_395" id="P_395" title="P_395"></a>Shall we not heed the lesson taught of old,<br>And by the present's lips repeated still,<br>In our own single manhood to be bold,<br>Fortressed in conscience and impregnable will?"<br><br></div>
         </div>
      </div>
      <div class="teidiv">
         <h2><a name="index"></a>
            INDEX.

         </h2>
         <table summary="index">
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><a class="newpage" name="P_396" id="P_396" title="P_396"></a><a class="newpage" name="P_397" id="P_397" title="P_397"></a>
                  Adams, Charles Francis,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_372" class="ref">372</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Adams, John Quincy,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_054" class="ref">54</a>, <a href="#P_250" class="ref">250</a>-<a href="#P_251" class="ref">251</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Adams, Nehemiah,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_278" class="ref">278</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Adams, William,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_292" class="ref">292</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Alcott, A. Bronson,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_090" class="ref">90</a>, <a href="#P_091" class="ref">91</a>, <a href="#P_134" class="ref">134</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  American Anti-Slavery Society,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_174" class="ref">174</a>, <a href="#P_311" class="ref">311</a>, <a href="#P_340" class="ref">340</a>, <a href="#P_373" class="ref">373</a>, <a href="#P_387" class="ref">387</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Andover Seminary,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_190" class="ref">190</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Andrew, John A.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_381" class="ref">381</a>, <a href="#P_389" class="ref">389</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Annexation of Texas,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_335" class="ref">335</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><i>Anti-Slavery Standard</i>,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_299" class="ref">299</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Atchison, David,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_338" class="ref">338</a>, <a href="#P_374" class="ref">374</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Attucks, Crispus,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_227" class="ref">227</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Bacon, Leonard W.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_162" class="ref">162</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Bartlett, Ezekiel,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_018" class="ref">18</a>, <a href="#P_020" class="ref">20</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Beecher, Lyman,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_110" class="ref">110</a>, <a href="#P_111" class="ref">111</a>, <a href="#P_161" class="ref">161</a>, <a href="#P_189" class="ref">189</a>, <a href="#P_190" class="ref">190</a>, <a href="#P_269" class="ref">269</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Benson, George,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_194" class="ref">194</a>, <a href="#P_263" class="ref">263</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Benson, George W.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_168" class="ref">168</a>, <a href="#P_178" class="ref">178</a>, <a href="#P_234" class="ref">234</a>, <a href="#P_260" class="ref">260</a>, <a href="#P_281" class="ref">281</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Benson, Henry E.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_212" class="ref">212</a>, <a href="#P_263" class="ref">263</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Benton, Thomas H.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_105" class="ref">105</a>-<a href="#P_106" class="ref">106</a>, <a href="#P_252" class="ref">252</a>, <a href="#P_253" class="ref">253</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Bird, Frank W.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_361" class="ref">361</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Birney, James G.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_203" class="ref">203</a>, <a href="#P_298" class="ref">298</a>, <a href="#P_320" class="ref">320</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Bond, Judge,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_382" class="ref">382</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Boston Female Anti-Slavery Society,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_217" class="ref">217</a>, <a href="#P_233" class="ref">233</a>, <a href="#P_240" class="ref">240</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Bourne, Rev. George,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_108" class="ref">108</a>, <a href="#P_203" class="ref">203</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><a class="newpage" name="P_398" id="P_398" title="P_398"></a>
                  Bowditch, Henry I.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_233" class="ref">233</a>, <a href="#P_349" class="ref">349</a>, <a href="#P_389" class="ref">389</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Bright, John,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_390" class="ref">390</a>, <a href="#P_391" class="ref">391</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Brooks, Preston S.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_359" class="ref">359</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Brown, John,
                  <a href="#P_365" class="ref">365</a>-<a href="#P_368" class="ref">368</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Buffum, Arnold,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_139" class="ref">139</a>, <a href="#P_177" class="ref">177</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Burleigh, Charles C.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_221" class="ref">221</a>, <a href="#P_223" class="ref">223</a>, <a href="#P_235" class="ref">235</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Buxton, Thomas Fowell,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_152" class="ref">152</a>, <a href="#P_154" class="ref">154</a>, <a href="#P_204" class="ref">204</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Calhoun, John C.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_246" class="ref">246</a>, <a href="#P_252" class="ref">252</a>, <a href="#P_315" class="ref">315</a>, <a href="#P_335" class="ref">335</a>, <a href="#P_336" class="ref">336</a>, <a href="#P_337" class="ref">337</a>, <a href="#P_352" class="ref">352</a>, <a href="#P_353" class="ref">353</a>, <a href="#P_384" class="ref">384</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Campbell, John Reid,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_225" class="ref">225</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Channing, Dr. W.E.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_110" class="ref">110</a>, <a href="#P_111" class="ref">111</a>, <a href="#P_256" class="ref">256</a>, <a href="#P_316" class="ref">316</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Chapman, Maria Weston,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_223" class="ref">223</a>, <a href="#P_258" class="ref">258</a>, <a href="#P_259" class="ref">259</a>, <a href="#P_277" class="ref">277</a>, <a href="#P_292" class="ref">292</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Chase, Salmon P.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_338" class="ref">338</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Child, David Lee,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_134" class="ref">134</a>, <a href="#P_136" class="ref">136</a>, <a href="#P_138" class="ref">138</a>, <a href="#P_203" class="ref">203</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Child, Lydia Maria,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_186" class="ref">186</a>, <a href="#P_203" class="ref">203</a>, <a href="#P_210" class="ref">210</a>, <a href="#P_277" class="ref">277</a>, <a href="#P_292" class="ref">292</a>, <a href="#P_309" class="ref">309</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Clay, Henry,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_339" class="ref">339</a>, <a href="#P_348" class="ref">348</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Clerical Appeal,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_282" class="ref">282</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Clarkson, Thomas,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_155" class="ref">155</a>, <a href="#P_303" class="ref">303</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Coffin, Joshua,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_139" class="ref">139</a>, <a href="#P_198" class="ref">198</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Cobb, Howell,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_338" class="ref">338</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Collier, Rev. William,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_040" class="ref">40</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Collins, John A.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_298" class="ref">298</a>, <a href="#P_299" class="ref">299</a>, <a href="#P_300" class="ref">300</a>, <a href="#P_303" class="ref">303</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Colonization Society,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_060" class="ref">60</a>, <a href="#P_072" class="ref">72</a>, <a href="#P_144" class="ref">144</a>-<a href="#P_156" class="ref">156</a>, <a href="#P_162" class="ref">162</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Colored Seaman,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_313" class="ref">313</a>-<a href="#P_314" class="ref">314</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Colorphobia,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_157" class="ref">157</a>-<a href="#P_169" class="ref">169</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Colver, Nathaniel,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_303" class="ref">303</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><i>Commercial Advertiser</i>, New York,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_170" class="ref">170</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><i>Courier</i>, Boston,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_128" class="ref">128</a>, <a href="#P_129" class="ref">129</a>, <a href="#P_217" class="ref">217</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><i>Courier and Enquirer</i>, New York,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_171" class="ref">171</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Corwin, Thomas,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_372" class="ref">372</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Cox, Abraham L.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_185" class="ref">185</a>, <a href="#P_203" class="ref">203</a>, <a href="#P_209" class="ref">209</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Crandall, Prudence,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_165" class="ref">165</a>-<a href="#P_168" class="ref">168</a>, <a href="#P_199" class="ref">199</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Cresson, Elliott,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_150" class="ref">150</a>, <a href="#P_151" class="ref">151</a>, <a href="#P_153" class="ref">153</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Cropper, James,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_154" class="ref">154</a>, <a href="#P_205" class="ref">205</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Curtin, Andrew G.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_372" class="ref">372</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Curtis, Benjamin R.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_354" class="ref">354</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Cuyler, Rev. Theodore L.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_384" class="ref">384</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><a class="newpage" name="P_399" id="P_399" title="P_399"></a>
                  Davis, Jefferson,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_338" class="ref">338</a>, <a href="#P_376" class="ref">376</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Disunion Convention at Worcester,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_361" class="ref">361</a>-<a href="#P_363" class="ref">363</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Dole, Ebenezer,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_086" class="ref">86</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Douglas, Stephen A.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_353" class="ref">353</a>, <a href="#P_365" class="ref">365</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Douglass, Frederick,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_300" class="ref">300</a>, <a href="#P_344" class="ref">344</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Dred Scott Case,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_364" class="ref">364</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Duncan, Rev, James,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_108" class="ref">108</a>-<a href="#P_109" class="ref">109</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><i>Emancipator, The</i>,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_283" class="ref">283</a>, <a href="#P_285" class="ref">285</a>, <a href="#P_286" class="ref">286</a>, <a href="#P_328" class="ref">328</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Emerson, Ralph Waldo,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_281" class="ref">281</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><i>Evening Post</i>, New York,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_208" class="ref">208</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Everett, Edward,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_030" class="ref">30</a>, <a href="#P_031" class="ref">31</a>, <a href="#P_243" class="ref">243</a>, <a href="#P_244" class="ref">244</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Farnham, Martha,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_016" class="ref">16</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Fessenden, Samuel,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_141" class="ref">141</a>, <a href="#P_148" class="ref">148</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Follen, Prof. Charles,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_201" class="ref">201</a>, <a href="#P_203" class="ref">203</a>, <a href="#P_247" class="ref">247</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Forten, James,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_144" class="ref">144</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Foster, Stephen S.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_310" class="ref">310</a>, <a href="#P_375" class="ref">375</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Foster, William E.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_390" class="ref">390</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Fr&eacute;mont, John C.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_361" class="ref">361</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><i>Free Press</i>,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_027" class="ref">27</a>, <a href="#P_034" class="ref">34</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Fugitive Slave Law, effect of,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_345" class="ref">345</a>-<a href="#P_347" class="ref">347</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Fugitive Slaves, The Crafts, Shadrach, Sims, Burns,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_349" class="ref">349</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Fuller, John E.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_219" class="ref">219</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Furness, Rev. W.H.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_344" class="ref">344</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Garrison, Abijah,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_012" class="ref">12</a>-<a href="#P_015" class="ref">15</a>, <a href="#P_018" class="ref">18</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Garrison, Charles Follen,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_331" class="ref">331</a>-<a href="#P_332" class="ref">332</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Garrison, Francis Jackson,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_330" class="ref">330</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Garrison, George Thompson,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_381" class="ref">381</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Garrison, Helen Eliza,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_194" class="ref">194</a>-<a href="#P_196" class="ref">196</a>, <a href="#P_219" class="ref">219</a>, <a href="#P_297" class="ref">297</a>, <a href="#P_331" class="ref">331</a>, <a href="#P_385" class="ref">385</a>-<a href="#P_386" class="ref">386</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Garrison, James,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_019" class="ref">19</a>, <a href="#P_020" class="ref">20</a>, <a href="#P_302" class="ref">302</a>-<a href="#P_303" class="ref">303</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Garrison, Joseph,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_011" class="ref">11</a>, <a href="#P_012" class="ref">12</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Garrison, Wendell Phillips,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_297" class="ref">297</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Garrison, William Lloyd,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Early years,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_011" class="ref">11</a>-<a href="#P_026" class="ref">26</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Publishes <i>Free Press,</i></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_027" class="ref">27</a>-<a href="#P_034" class="ref">34</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;seeks work in Boston,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_035" class="ref">35</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;nominates Harrison Gray Otis for Congress,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_035" class="ref">35</a>-<a href="#P_036" class="ref">36</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;temperance and the <i>Philanthropist</i>,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_039" class="ref">39</a>-<a href="#P_044" class="ref">44</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><a class="newpage" name="P_400" id="P_400" title="P_400"></a>
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;meets Lundy,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_044" class="ref">44</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;early attitude on the slavery question,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_046" class="ref">46</a>-<a href="#P_050" class="ref">50</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;on war,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_051" class="ref">51</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;first experience with ministers on the subject of slavery,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_052" class="ref">52</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Anti-slavery Committee of twenty,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_053" class="ref">53</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;goes to Bennington, Vt., to edit the <i>Journal of the Times</i>,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_054" class="ref">54</a>-<a href="#P_055" class="ref">55</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;monster anti-slavery petition to Congress,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_055" class="ref">55</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;anticipates trouble with the South,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_056" class="ref">56</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;begins to preach freedom,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_056" class="ref">56</a>-<a href="#P_057" class="ref">57</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;agrees to help Lundy edit the <i>Genius of Universal Emancipation</i>,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_058" class="ref">58</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Congregational Societies of Boston invite him to deliver Fourth-of-July oration,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_060" class="ref">60</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;the address,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_061" class="ref">61</a>-<a href="#P_067" class="ref">67</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;goes to Baltimore,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_069" class="ref">69</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;raises the standard of immediate emancipation,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_070" class="ref">70</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Lundy and he agree to differ,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_071" class="ref">71</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;defends Free People of Color,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_073" class="ref">73</a>-<a href="#P_074" class="ref">74</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;makes acquaintance with barbarism of slavery,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_074" class="ref">74</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;ship <i>Francis</i> and Francis Todd,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_075" class="ref">75</a>-<a href="#P_077" class="ref">77</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;prosecuted and imprisoned,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_077" class="ref">77</a>-<a href="#P_083" class="ref">83</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;released,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_083" class="ref">83</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;visits the North,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_084" class="ref">84</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;returns to Baltimore but leaves it again for good,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_087" class="ref">87</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;lectures on slavery,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_088" class="ref">88</a>-<a href="#P_091" class="ref">91</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;character,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_092" class="ref">92</a>-<a href="#P_094" class="ref">94</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;incarnation of immediate emancipation,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_109" class="ref">109</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Dr. Lyman Beecher,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_110" class="ref">110</a>-<a href="#P_111" class="ref">111</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;difficulties in the way of publishing the <i>Liberator</i>,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_112" class="ref">112</a>-<a href="#P_115" class="ref">115</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;his method of attacking slavery,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_118" class="ref">118</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;he is heard,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_120" class="ref">120</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Walker's appeal,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_121" class="ref">121</a>-<a href="#P_122" class="ref">122</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Nat Turner,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_125" class="ref">125</a>-<a href="#P_126" class="ref">126</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;southern excitement,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_127" class="ref">127</a>-<a href="#P_128" class="ref">128</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;New England Anti-Slavery Society,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_137" class="ref">137</a>-<a href="#P_138" class="ref">138</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;appointed agent,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_141" class="ref">141</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;thoughts on African colonization,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_143" class="ref">143</a>-<a href="#P_150" class="ref">150</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;first visit to England,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_152" class="ref">152</a>-<a href="#P_156" class="ref">156</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Mr. Buxton's mistake,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_152" class="ref">152</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;prejudice against color,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_157" class="ref">157</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Prudence Crandall,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_166" class="ref">166</a>, <a href="#P_168" class="ref">168</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;organization of New York City Anti-Slavery Society and beginning of the mob period,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_170" class="ref">170</a>-<a href="#P_172" class="ref">172</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;formation of American Anti-Slavery Society,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_174" class="ref">174</a>-<a href="#P_185" class="ref">185</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;declaration of sentiments,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_182" class="ref">182</a>-<a href="#P_184" class="ref">184</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;increased agitation,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_185" class="ref">185</a>-<a href="#P_186" class="ref">186</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;marriage,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_193" class="ref">193</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;the wife,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_194" class="ref">194</a>-<a href="#P_196" class="ref">196</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;poverty of the <i>Liberator</i>,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_197" class="ref">197</a>-<a href="#P_200" class="ref">200</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;the paper displeases friends,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_201" class="ref">201</a>-<a href="#P_204" class="ref">204</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;George Thompson,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_204" class="ref">204</a>-<a href="#P_206" class="ref">206</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Faneuil Hall meeting to put the Abolitionists down,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_211" class="ref">211</a>-<a href="#P_215" class="ref">215</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;gallows for two,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_215" class="ref">215</a>-<a href="#P_216" class="ref">216</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;the Broad-Cloth Mob,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_218" class="ref">218</a>-<a href="#P_232" class="ref">232</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Thompson leaves the country,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_238" class="ref">238</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;appears before a committee of Massachusetts legislature,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_245" class="ref">245</a>-<a href="#P_246" class="ref">246</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Pennsylvania Hall,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_257" class="ref">257</a>-<a href="#P_260" class="ref">260</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Marlboro Chapel,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_260" class="ref">260</a>-<a href="#P_261" class="ref">261</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;ill health,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_263" class="ref">263</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Educational Convention of anti-slavery agents,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_264" class="ref">264</a>-<a href="#P_265" class="ref">265</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><a class="newpage" name="P_401" id="P_401" title="P_401"></a>
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;the Sabbath question,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_265" class="ref">265</a>-<a href="#P_272" class="ref">272</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;The woman's question,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_273" class="ref">273</a>-<a href="#P_280" class="ref">280</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;clerical appeal,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_282" class="ref">282</a>-<a href="#P_285" class="ref">285</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;anti-slavery political action,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_286" class="ref">286</a>-<a href="#P_288" class="ref">288</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;conflict between the New York and the Boston boards,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_289" class="ref">289</a>-<a href="#P_291" class="ref">291</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;the World's Convention,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_292" class="ref">292</a>-<a href="#P_295" class="ref">295</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;visit to Scotland,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_295" class="ref">295</a>-<a href="#P_296" class="ref">296</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;in the lecture field,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_300" class="ref">300</a>-<a href="#P_301" class="ref">301</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;his brother James,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_302" class="ref">302</a>-<a href="#P_303" class="ref">303</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;meets charges of infidelity,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_303" class="ref">303</a>-<a href="#P_304" class="ref">304</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Irish Address,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_304" class="ref">304</a>-<a href="#P_305" class="ref">305</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;no union with slaveholders,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_306" class="ref">306</a>-<a href="#P_312" class="ref">312</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Texas agitation,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_316" class="ref">316</a>-<a href="#P_318" class="ref">318</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;dislikes Liberty party,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_319" class="ref">319</a>-<a href="#P_323" class="ref">323</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;some characteristics,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_326" class="ref">326</a>-<a href="#P_334" class="ref">334</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;the Rynders Mob,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_340" class="ref">340</a>-<a href="#P_344" class="ref">344</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;publicly burns the United States Constitution,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_354" class="ref">354</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;answers objections to his disunionism,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_362" class="ref">362</a>-<a href="#P_363" class="ref">363</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Harper's Ferry,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_365" class="ref">365</a>-<a href="#P_367" class="ref">367</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;secession: first attitude to it,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_370" class="ref">370</a>-<a href="#P_373" class="ref">373</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;second attitude,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_373" class="ref">373</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;adapts himself to circumstances,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_373" class="ref">373</a>-<a href="#P_381" class="ref">381</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;Lincoln and emancipation,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_379" class="ref">379</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;visits Baltimore, Washington, Charleston,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_381" class="ref">381</a>-<a href="#P_384" class="ref">384</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;illness and death of his wife,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_385" class="ref">385</a>-<a href="#P_386" class="ref">386</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;differences with anti-slavery associates,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_386" class="ref">386</a>-<a href="#P_388" class="ref">388</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;discontinues the <i>Liberator</i>,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_388" class="ref">388</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;national testimonial,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_389" class="ref">389</a>-<a href="#P_390" class="ref">390</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;fourth visit to England,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_390" class="ref">390</a>-<a href="#P_391" class="ref">391</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;champions cause of Southern negroes,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_391" class="ref">391</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;champions cause of Chinese,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_392" class="ref">392</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;believes in Free Trade,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_392" class="ref">392</a>-<a href="#P_393" class="ref">393</a>;

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  &nbsp;&nbsp;illness and death,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_393" class="ref">393</a>-<a href="#P_395" class="ref">395</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Garrison, William Lloyd, Jr.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_297" class="ref">297</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><i>Gazette</i>, Boston,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_217" class="ref">217</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><i>Genius of Universal Emancipation</i>,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_058" class="ref">58</a>, <a href="#P_069" class="ref">69</a>, <a href="#P_071" class="ref">71</a>-<a href="#P_075" class="ref">75</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Gibbons, James S.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_309" class="ref">309</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Giddings, Joshua R.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_338" class="ref">338</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Goodell, William,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_149" class="ref">149</a>, <a href="#P_203" class="ref">203</a>, <a href="#P_247" class="ref">247</a>, <a href="#P_248" class="ref">248</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Green, William, Jr.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_184" class="ref">184</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Grimk&eacute;, Angelina E.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_235" class="ref">235</a>, <a href="#P_258" class="ref">258</a>-<a href="#P_259" class="ref">259</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Grimk&eacute;, Sisters,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_275" class="ref">275</a>-<a href="#P_280" class="ref">280</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Hale, John P.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_338" class="ref">338</a>, <a href="#P_350" class="ref">350</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Hamilton, Alexander,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_104" class="ref">104</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Hamlin, Hannibal,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_338" class="ref">338</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Haydon, Benjamin Robert,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_294" class="ref">294</a>, <a href="#P_295" class="ref">295</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Hayne, Robert Y.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_209" class="ref">209</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><i>Herald</i>, Newburyport,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_021" class="ref">21</a>, <a href="#P_026" class="ref">26</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><a class="newpage" name="P_402" id="P_402" title="P_402"></a><i>Herald</i>, New York,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_340" class="ref">340</a>, <a href="#P_341" class="ref">341</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Higginson, T.W.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_358" class="ref">358</a>-<a href="#P_359" class="ref">359</a>, <a href="#P_361" class="ref">361</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Hoar, Samuel,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_314" class="ref">314</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Horton, Jacob,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_061" class="ref">61</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Hovey, Charles F.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_389" class="ref">389</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Jackson, Francis,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_233" class="ref">233</a>, <a href="#P_240" class="ref">240</a>-<a href="#P_241" class="ref">241</a>, <a href="#P_311" class="ref">311</a>-<a href="#P_312" class="ref">312</a>, <a href="#P_317" class="ref">317</a>, <a href="#P_341" class="ref">341</a>, <a href="#P_344" class="ref">344</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Jewett, Daniel E.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_175" class="ref">175</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Jocelyn, Rev. Simeon Smith,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_203" class="ref">203</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Johnson, Andrew,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_380" class="ref">380</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Johnson, Oliver,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_114" class="ref">114</a>, <a href="#P_134" class="ref">134</a>, <a href="#P_137" class="ref">137</a>, <a href="#P_139" class="ref">139</a>, <a href="#P_160" class="ref">160</a>-<a href="#P_161" class="ref">161</a>, <a href="#P_374" class="ref">374</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><i>Journal</i>, Camden (S.C.),

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_128" class="ref">128</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><i>Journal</i>, Louisville (Ky.),

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_120" class="ref">120</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Kansas, Struggle over,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_357" class="ref">357</a>-<a href="#P_358" class="ref">358</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Kelley, Abby,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_259" class="ref">259</a>, <a href="#P_291" class="ref">291</a>, <a href="#P_310" class="ref">310</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Kimball, David T.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_175" class="ref">175</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Knapp, Isaac,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_113" class="ref">113</a>, <a href="#P_127" class="ref">127</a>, <a href="#P_139" class="ref">139</a>, <a href="#P_197" class="ref">197</a>, <a href="#P_200" class="ref">200</a>, <a href="#P_265" class="ref">265</a>, <a href="#P_301" class="ref">301</a>-<a href="#P_302" class="ref">302</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Kneeland, Abner,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_090" class="ref">90</a>, <a href="#P_268" class="ref">268</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Lane Seminary,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_189" class="ref">189</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Latimer, George,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_312" class="ref">312</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Leavitt, Joshua,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_149" class="ref">149</a>, <a href="#P_320" class="ref">320</a>, <a href="#P_329" class="ref">329</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Leggett, Samuel,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_086" class="ref">86</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><i>Liberator, The</i>,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_111" class="ref">111</a>-<a href="#P_120" class="ref">120</a>, <a href="#P_126" class="ref">126</a>-<a href="#P_129" class="ref">129</a>, <a href="#P_131" class="ref">131</a>, <a href="#P_141" class="ref">141</a>, <a href="#P_163" class="ref">163</a>, <a href="#P_165" class="ref">165</a>, <a href="#P_169" class="ref">169</a>, <a href="#P_176" class="ref">176</a>, <a href="#P_197" class="ref">197</a>-<a href="#P_204" class="ref">204</a>, <a href="#P_236" class="ref">236</a>, <a href="#P_237" class="ref">237</a>, <a href="#P_265" class="ref">265</a>, <a href="#P_284" class="ref">284</a>, <a href="#P_297" class="ref">297</a>, <a href="#P_327" class="ref">327</a>-<a href="#P_329" class="ref">329</a>, <a href="#P_388" class="ref">388</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Lincoln, Abraham,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_365" class="ref">365</a>, <a href="#P_370" class="ref">370</a>, <a href="#P_375" class="ref">375</a>, <a href="#P_376" class="ref">376</a>, <a href="#P_377" class="ref">377</a>, <a href="#P_378" class="ref">378</a>, <a href="#P_379" class="ref">379</a>, <a href="#P_380" class="ref">380</a>, <a href="#P_382" class="ref">382</a>, <a href="#P_384" class="ref">384</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Lloyd, Fanny,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_013" class="ref">13</a>-<a href="#P_020" class="ref">20</a>, <a href="#P_024" class="ref">24</a>-<a href="#P_026" class="ref">26</a>, <a href="#P_044" class="ref">44</a>-<a href="#P_045" class="ref">45</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Longfellow, Stephen,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_148" class="ref">148</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Loring, Edward Greeley,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_354" class="ref">354</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Loring, Ellis Grey,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_134" class="ref">134</a>, <a href="#P_135" class="ref">135</a>, <a href="#P_136" class="ref">136</a>, <a href="#P_138" class="ref">138</a>, <a href="#P_245" class="ref">245</a>, <a href="#P_264" class="ref">264</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Lovejoy, Elijah P.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_254" class="ref">254</a>-<a href="#P_257" class="ref">257</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Lowell, James Russell,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_136" class="ref">136</a>, <a href="#P_329" class="ref">329</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Lumpkin, Wilson,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_128" class="ref">128</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Lundy, Benjamin,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_044" class="ref">44</a>, <a href="#P_045" class="ref">45</a>, <a href="#P_046" class="ref">46</a>, <a href="#P_048" class="ref">48</a>-<a href="#P_054" class="ref">54</a>, <a href="#P_057" class="ref">57</a>, <a href="#P_058" class="ref">58</a>, <a href="#P_069" class="ref">69</a>, <a href="#P_071" class="ref">71</a>, <a href="#P_072" class="ref">72</a>, <a href="#P_075" class="ref">75</a>, <a href="#P_108" class="ref">108</a>, <a href="#P_133" class="ref">133</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Lunt, George,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_244" class="ref">244</a>, <a href="#P_247" class="ref">247</a>, <a href="#P_248" class="ref">248</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Lyman, Theodore,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_223" class="ref">223</a>, <a href="#P_224" class="ref">224</a>, <a href="#P_227" class="ref">227</a>, <a href="#P_228" class="ref">228</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><a class="newpage" name="P_403" id="P_403" title="P_403"></a>
                  Macaulay, Zachary,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_154" class="ref">154</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Malcolm, Rev. Howard,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_052" class="ref">52</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Martineau, Harriet,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_094" class="ref">94</a>, <a href="#P_240" class="ref">240</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Mason, James M.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_338" class="ref">338</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Mason, Jeremiah,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_111" class="ref">111</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_265" class="ref">265</a>, <a href="#P_280" class="ref">280</a>, <a href="#P_297" class="ref">297</a>, <a href="#P_310" class="ref">310</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Mathew, Father,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_304" class="ref">304</a>, <a href="#P_305" class="ref">305</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  May, Samuel, Jr.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_325" class="ref">325</a>, <a href="#P_389" class="ref">389</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  May, Samuel J.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_090" class="ref">90</a>, <a href="#P_093" class="ref">93</a>, <a href="#P_094" class="ref">94</a>, <a href="#P_134" class="ref">134</a>, <a href="#P_166" class="ref">166</a>, <a href="#P_167" class="ref">167</a>, <a href="#P_179" class="ref">179</a>, <a href="#P_180" class="ref">180</a>, <a href="#P_186" class="ref">186</a>, <a href="#P_199" class="ref">199</a>, <a href="#P_245" class="ref">245</a>, <a href="#P_272" class="ref">272</a>, <a href="#P_289" class="ref">289</a>, <a href="#P_393" class="ref">393</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  McDowell, James,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_124" class="ref">124</a>, <a href="#P_125" class="ref">125</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  McKim, James Miller,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_149" class="ref">149</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  McDuffie, Governor,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_243" class="ref">243</a>, <a href="#P_246" class="ref">246</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><i>Mercury</i>, Charleston,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_126" class="ref">126</a>,

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Mill, John Stuart,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_390" class="ref">390</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Missouri Compromise, Repeal of,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_352" class="ref">352</a>-<a href="#P_354" class="ref">354</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Moore, Esther,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_259" class="ref">259</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Morley, Samuel,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_390" class="ref">390</a>,

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Mott, Lucretia,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_178" class="ref">178</a>, <a href="#P_259" class="ref">259</a>, <a href="#P_292" class="ref">292</a>, <a href="#P_293" class="ref">293</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><i>National Intelligencer</i>,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_128" class="ref">128</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  New England Anti-Slavery Society,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_137" class="ref">137</a>-<a href="#P_141" class="ref">141</a>, <a href="#P_200" class="ref">200</a>, <a href="#P_280" class="ref">280</a>, <a href="#P_311" class="ref">311</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><i>New England Spectator</i>,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_282" class="ref">282</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Newman, Prof. Francis W.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_378" class="ref">378</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  O'Connell, Daniel,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_154" class="ref">154</a>, <a href="#P_170" class="ref">170</a>, <a href="#P_171" class="ref">171</a>, <a href="#P_304" class="ref">304</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Otis, Harrison Gray,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_035" class="ref">35</a>, <a href="#P_129" class="ref">129</a>, <a href="#P_130" class="ref">130</a>, <a href="#P_131" class="ref">131</a>, <a href="#P_213" class="ref">213</a>, <a href="#P_214" class="ref">214</a>, <a href="#P_215" class="ref">215</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Palmer, Daniel,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_011" class="ref">11</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Palmer, Mary,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_011" class="ref">11</a>, <a href="#P_012" class="ref">12</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Parker, Mary S.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_222" class="ref">222</a>, <a href="#P_234" class="ref">234</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Parker, Theodore,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_121" class="ref">121</a>, <a href="#P_349" class="ref">349</a>, <a href="#P_350" class="ref">350</a>, <a href="#P_362" class="ref">362</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Pastoral Letter,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_277" class="ref">277</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Paxton, Rev. J.D.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_186" class="ref">186</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Pease, Elizabeth,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_303" class="ref">303</a>, <a href="#P_331" class="ref">331</a>, <a href="#P_346" class="ref">346</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Pennsylvania Hall,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_257" class="ref">257</a>-<a href="#P_260" class="ref">260</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Phelps, Amos A.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_149" class="ref">149</a>, <a href="#P_186" class="ref">186</a>, <a href="#P_203" class="ref">203</a>, <a href="#P_278" class="ref">278</a>, <a href="#P_280" class="ref">280</a>, <a href="#P_288" class="ref">288</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><a class="newpage" name="P_404" id="P_404" title="P_404"></a>
                  Phillips Academy (Andover),

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_190" class="ref">190</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Phillips, Ann Green,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_292" class="ref">292</a>, <a href="#P_293" class="ref">293</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Phillips, Wendell,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_190" class="ref">190</a>, <a href="#P_257" class="ref">257</a>, <a href="#P_310" class="ref">310</a>, <a href="#P_317" class="ref">317</a>, <a href="#P_323" class="ref">323</a>, <a href="#P_326" class="ref">326</a>, <a href="#P_344" class="ref">344</a>, <a href="#P_346" class="ref">346</a>-<a href="#P_347" class="ref">347</a>, <a href="#P_349" class="ref">349</a>, <a href="#P_351" class="ref">351</a>, <a href="#P_386" class="ref">386</a>, <a href="#P_387" class="ref">387</a>, <a href="#P_388" class="ref">388</a>, <a href="#P_393" class="ref">393</a>, <a href="#P_394" class="ref">394</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Pillsbury, Parker,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_310" class="ref">310</a>,

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Prentice, George D.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_120" class="ref">120</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Purvis, Robert,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_144" class="ref">144</a>, <a href="#P_162" class="ref">162</a>, <a href="#P_178" class="ref">178</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Quincy, Edmund,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_299" class="ref">299</a>, <a href="#P_310" class="ref">310</a>, <a href="#P_316" class="ref">316</a>, <a href="#P_323" class="ref">323</a>, <a href="#P_324" class="ref">324</a>, <a href="#P_325" class="ref">325</a>, <a href="#P_326" class="ref">326</a>, <a href="#P_327" class="ref">327</a>-<a href="#P_329" class="ref">329</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Quincy, Josiah,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_347" class="ref">347</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Rankin, John,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_177" class="ref">177</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Remond, Charles Lenox,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_293" class="ref">293</a>, <a href="#P_295" class="ref">295</a>, <a href="#P_304" class="ref">304</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Rhett, Barnwell,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_338" class="ref">338</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Rogers, Nathaniel P.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_149" class="ref">149</a>, <a href="#P_293" class="ref">293</a>, <a href="#P_295" class="ref">295</a>, <a href="#P_301" class="ref">301</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Rynders, Isaiah,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_341" class="ref">341</a>-<a href="#P_344" class="ref">344</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Scoble, Rev. John,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_294" class="ref">294</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Sewall, Samuel E.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_090" class="ref">90</a>, <a href="#P_091" class="ref">91</a>, <a href="#P_134" class="ref">134</a>, <a href="#P_135" class="ref">135</a>, <a href="#P_136" class="ref">136</a>, <a href="#P_137" class="ref">137</a>, <a href="#P_138" class="ref">138</a>, <a href="#P_175" class="ref">175</a>, <a href="#P_236" class="ref">236</a>, <a href="#P_367" class="ref">367</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Seward, William H.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_338" class="ref">338</a>, <a href="#P_372" class="ref">372</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Shaw, Chief-Justice,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_312" class="ref">312</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Slavery, Rise and Progress of,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_095" class="ref">95</a>-<a href="#P_107" class="ref">107</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Smith, Gerritt,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_147" class="ref">147</a>, <a href="#P_236" class="ref">236</a>, <a href="#P_297" class="ref">297</a>, <a href="#P_320" class="ref">320</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Sprague, Peleg,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_213" class="ref">213</a>, <a href="#P_214" class="ref">214</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Stanton, Edwin M.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_382" class="ref">382</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Stanton, Henry B.

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_253" class="ref">253</a>, <a href="#P_288" class="ref">288</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Stearns, Charles,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_359" class="ref">359</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Stevens, Thaddeus,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_338" class="ref">338</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Stuart, Charles,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_201" class="ref">201</a>, <a href="#P_202" class="ref">202</a>, <a href="#P_264" class="ref">264</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Sumner, Charles,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_234" class="ref">234</a>, <a href="#P_317" class="ref">317</a>, <a href="#P_339" class="ref">339</a>, <a href="#P_346" class="ref">346</a>, <a href="#P_359" class="ref">359</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Tappan, Arthur,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_083" class="ref">83</a>, <a href="#P_084" class="ref">84</a>, <a href="#P_164" class="ref">164</a>, <a href="#P_171" class="ref">171</a>, <a href="#P_184" class="ref">184</a>, <a href="#P_209" class="ref">209</a>, <a href="#P_210" class="ref">210</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Tappan, Lewis,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_149" class="ref">149</a>, <a href="#P_177" class="ref">177</a>, <a href="#P_201" class="ref">201</a>, <a href="#P_209" class="ref">209</a>, <a href="#P_283" class="ref">283</a>, <a href="#P_285" class="ref">285</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Texas Agitation,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_314" class="ref">314</a>-<a href="#P_318" class="ref">318</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Thompson, George,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_204" class="ref">204</a>-<a href="#P_206" class="ref">206</a>, <a href="#P_210" class="ref">210</a>, <a href="#P_212" class="ref">212</a>, <a href="#P_213" class="ref">213</a>, <a href="#P_216" class="ref">216</a>, <a href="#P_217" class="ref">217</a>, <a href="#P_218" class="ref">218</a>, <a href="#P_238" class="ref">238</a>, <a href="#P_294" class="ref">294</a>, <a href="#P_295" class="ref">295</a>, <a href="#P_351" class="ref">351</a>, <a href="#P_383" class="ref">383</a>, <a href="#P_385" class="ref">385</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Thurston, David,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_180" class="ref">180</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""><a class="newpage" name="P_405" id="P_405" title="P_405"></a>
                  Tilton, Theodore,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_382" class="ref">382</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Todd, Francis,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_075" class="ref">75</a>, <a href="#P_076" class="ref">76</a>, <a href="#P_077" class="ref">77</a>, <a href="#P_081" class="ref">81</a>, <a href="#P_082" class="ref">82</a>, <a href="#P_087" class="ref">87</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Toombs, Robert,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_338" class="ref">338</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Travis, Joseph,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_124" class="ref">124</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Turner, Nat.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_124" class="ref">124</a>-<a href="#P_125" class="ref">125</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Uncle Tom's Cabin,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_351" class="ref">351</a>-<a href="#P_352" class="ref">352</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Villard, Mrs. Henry,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_394" class="ref">394</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Walker, David,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_121" class="ref">121</a>, <a href="#P_122" class="ref">122</a>, <a href="#P_123" class="ref">123</a>, <a href="#P_126" class="ref">126</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Ward, Rev. Samuel R.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_344" class="ref">344</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Ware, Rev. Henry, Jr.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_203" class="ref">203</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Webb, Richard D.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_310" class="ref">310</a>, <a href="#P_316" class="ref">316</a>, <a href="#P_318" class="ref">318</a>, <a href="#P_326" class="ref">326</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Webster, Daniel,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_035" class="ref">35</a>, <a href="#P_101" class="ref">101</a>, <a href="#P_110" class="ref">110</a>, <a href="#P_111" class="ref">111</a>, <a href="#P_117" class="ref">117</a>, <a href="#P_249" class="ref">249</a>, <a href="#P_338" class="ref">338</a>, <a href="#P_339" class="ref">339</a>, <a href="#P_347" class="ref">347</a>, <a href="#P_348" class="ref">348</a>, <a href="#P_370" class="ref">370</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Weld, Theodore D.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_149" class="ref">149</a>, <a href="#P_190" class="ref">190</a>, <a href="#P_264" class="ref">264</a>, <a href="#P_279" class="ref">279</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Wesley, John,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_070" class="ref">70</a>, <a href="#P_107" class="ref">107</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  White, Nathaniel H.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_041" class="ref">41</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Whitney, Eli,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_098" class="ref">98</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Whittier, John Greenleaf,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_034" class="ref">34</a>, <a href="#P_175" class="ref">175</a>, <a href="#P_179" class="ref">179</a>, <a href="#P_186" class="ref">186</a>, <a href="#P_202" class="ref">202</a>, <a href="#P_234" class="ref">234</a>, <a href="#P_279" class="ref">279</a>, <a href="#P_320" class="ref">320</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Wilberforce, William,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_152" class="ref">152</a>, <a href="#P_154" class="ref">154</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Winslow, Isaac,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_177" class="ref">177</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Winslow, Nathan,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_177" class="ref">177</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Wright, Elizur,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_147" class="ref">147</a>, <a href="#P_149" class="ref">149</a>, <a href="#P_185" class="ref">185</a>, <a href="#P_186" class="ref">186</a>, <a href="#P_202" class="ref">202</a>, <a href="#P_210" class="ref">210</a>, <a href="#P_283" class="ref">283</a>-<a href="#P_285" class="ref">285</a>, <a href="#P_287" class="ref">287</a>, <a href="#P_320" class="ref">320</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
               <td valign="top" class=""></td>
            </tr>
            <tr class="">
               <td valign="top" class="">
                  Yerrington, James B.,

               </td>
               <td valign="top" class=""><a href="#P_113" class="ref">113</a>.

               </td>
            </tr>
         </table>
      </div>
      <hr>
      <address>&nbsp;  By Grimke, Archibald H. (1849-1930).
 </html>