were performed on foot!—during which time he has held nearly fifty public meetings.
He was not a good public speaker.
His voice was too feeble, his utterance too rapid, to interest or inform an audience; yet he never spoke wholly in vain.
In private life, his habits were social and communicative, but his infirmity of deafness rendered it difficult to engage with him in protracted conversation.
How, with that infirmity upon him, he could think of travelling all over the country, exploring Canada and Texas, and making voyages to Hayti, in the prosecution of his godlike work, is indeed matter of astonishment.
But it shows, in bold relief, what the spirit of philanthropy can dare and conquer (W. L. G. in Lib., Sept. 20, 1839). 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.
Lundy lost no time, after his arrival in Boston,