, on his arrival in Chicago
, did not in any degree tend to allay the feeling of disapproval so general in its manifestation.
The warriors, young and old, removed their armor from the walls, and began preparations for the impending conflict.
had made a few speeches in aid of Scott
during the campaign of 1852, but they were efforts entirely unworthy of the man. Now, however, a live issue was presented to him. No one realized this sooner than he. In the office discussions he grew bolder in his utterances.
He insisted that the social and political difference between slavery and freedom was becoming more marked; that one must overcome the other; and that postponing the struggle between them would only make it the more deadly in the end. “The day of compromise,” he still contended, “has passed.
These two great ideas have been kept apart only by the most artful means.
They are like two wild beasts in sight of each other, but chained and held apart.
Some day these deadly antagonists will one or the other break their bonds, and then the question will be settled.”
In a conversation with a fellow-lawyer1
he said of slavery: “It is the most glittering, ostentatious, and displaying property in the world, and now, if a young man goes courting, the only inquiry is how many negroes he or his lady-love owns.
The love for slave property is swallowing up every other mercenary possession.
Slavery is a great and crying injustice — an enormous national crime.”
At another time he made the