the place for me than another, that one is before the people. I can't write to much advantage, having never had a day's schooling in my life; nor have I ventured to give publicity to any of my scribbling before; nor would I now, but for my peculiar circumstances.

It is a great pity that this misfortune marred his day of triumph. He had entered New Bedford a penniless fugitive, fit only for the most menial tasks. He left it a popular orator, a leader of the people in the noblest cause. He had made all his arrangements for removing to Lynn with his family, which now included three little children, and he succeeded in carrying out his plan on Monday or Tuesday. His recovery was so complete that he was able to sing the parody on slave-holding clergymen, at Essex, the · last Sunday of the month. The day previous he had attempted in vain to amend a resolution proposed there by one of the leading Abolitionists, James N. Buffum. His resolution was passed, as follows: Resolved, That no person ought to be considered a Christian unless he is a practical Abolitionist." The amendment proposed was to insert the words "who is acquainted with the principles of anti-slavery."

Latimer had, by this time, been purchased by Dr. H. I. Bowditch and other friends of the slave for four hundred dollars. He got his freedom; his master got the money; and the Abolitionists got an unusual amount of popular sympathy. Early next year they presented, at the State House, where Hon. Charles Francis Adams acted in their behalf, a petition with more than sixty thousand signatures, asking that

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fugitives from slavery should never again be arrested by town or city officials, nor held as prisoners in the jails of this commonwealth; and also that the Constitution of the United States should be so amended as shall forever separate the people of Massachusetts from all connection with slavery." The legislature made it a penal offence for any magistrate or executive officer of the State to help arrest fugitives, and forbade use of the jails for confining them. The excitement sprang throughout New England and into Western New York. The opposition to the Fugitive Slave Bill did not cease until it was repealed; and this was certainly one of the wisest parts of the great anti-slavery movement. Nothing which its advocates could say was heard so willingly by the people, as the call to protect men and women already at the North, from being dragged back into bondage. All discussion of theories was tame in comparison with appeals for individuals seen to be oppressed.

The Latimer meetings continued to be held during the early months of 1843; and among the most enthusiastic speakers was Douglass. He was also a supporter of the resolution, passed on January 27, by the State Society in Faneuil Hall, declaring that “The compact between the North and the South is a covenant with death and an agreement with hell," and that "It should be immediately dissolved." On March 6, he lectured in Amory Hall, Boston, on "Slavery as actually existing in the South." Among the other speakers in this course were Phillips, Pierpont, and Garrison.

Fear that a new field might be opened for slavery, by the annexation of Texas, was among the causes

which made the annual meeting of the American Society in New York, on May 9, 1843, larger than any that had ever been held before, with the single exception of 1840. Then there was a bitter contest between New York and New England. Now there was perfect unanimity; and most of the delegates came from the West. Some of the friends traveled in wagons from Pennsylvania and Illinois, holding meetings along the road. One of the vehicles thus used was named the "Liberator," and did good service that same summer at conventions in Ohio and Indiana. Douglass, on the second day, spoke thus: "Such have been my habits of life as to instil into my heart a disposition I can never quite shake off, to cower before the white man. But one thing I can do. I can represent here the slave, the human chattel." He then introduced a resolution, stating that "The antislavery movement is the only earthly hope of the American slave." "Instead of being regarded as a powerful aid to abolition," he continued, "it is far too generally viewed as retarding that event. But this is a grievous error, I know; for I speak from experience." "Prior to this movement, Sir, the slave in chains had no hope of deliverance. when he heard of it, hope sprung up in his mind." "I knew, I felt that truth was above error, that right was above wrong, that principle was above prejudice, and that I should one day be free." "There is no hope for the slave in Church or State. But this Society is above either Church or State. It is moving both daily, more and more."

But

The resolution was seconded by Abby Kelley, whom John Neal, who was one of the audience, describes as

"a pleasant Quakerish woman, with a white shawl on, the smoothest possible hair, the smoothest possible voice, and no very great superabundance of action.” A more sympathetic observer praises her "fine person, clear blue eye, delicate complexion, fair hair, and lady-like hands." "Mr. Douglass," said she, "is free and can speak for himself; but his sisters are still in the hands of the outragers; and it is therefore fit that a woman should stand here by his side."

WHAT Shakespeare says of his Douglas, ("Henry IV.," Part I, Act V, Scene I), was perfectly true of our hero, as soon as he got over the embarrassment, caused by being suddenly brought into association with gentlemen and ladies whom he revered even more for their character than for their culture and race. He had not resided long in Lynn before he vindicated his rights, by main force, against the Eastern Railroad. This corporation had been denounced, week after week, in the "Traveller's Directory" in the "Liberator," for "an odious distinction on account of color, and a bullying propensity to carry it out." The passengers had fight after fight with conductors and brakemen, before the battle of which this account is given by a writer, who also describes the chief combatant :

"Mr. Douglass lived in Lynn about this time. He was not then the polished orator that he has since become, but even at that early date he gave promise of the grand part he was to play in the conflict which was to end in the destruction of the system that had so long cursed his race. He was more than six feet in height; and his majestic form, as he rose to speak, straight as an arrow, muscular, yet lithe and graceful, his flashing eye, and more than all, his voice, that rivaled Web