of that dead, sluggish cloud thundered and lightened a malignity which could not find words to express its hate.
The very pulpit where I stand saw this apostle of liberty and justice sore beset, always in great need, and often in deadly peril; yet it never gave him one word of approval or sympathy.
During all his weary struggle, Mr. Garrison
felt its weight in the scale against him. In those years it led the sect which arrogates to itself the name of Liberal.
If this was the bearing of so-called Liberals, what bitterness of opposition, judge ye, did not the others show?
A mere boy confronts Church, commerce, and college; a boy with neither training nor experience!
Almost at once the assault tells; the whole country is hotly interested.
What created such life under those ribs of death?
Whence came that instinctive knowledge?
Where did he get that sound common-sense?
Whence did he summon that almost unerring sagacity which, starting agitation on an untried field, never committed an error, provoking year by year additional enthusiasm, gathering, as he advanced, helper after helper to his side!
I marvel at the miraculous boy. He had no means.
Where he got, whence he summoned, how he created, the elements which changed 1830 into 1835,--1830 apathy, indifference, ignorance, icebergs, into 1835, every man intelligently hating him, and mobs assaulting him in every city,--is a marvel which none but older men than I can adequately analyze and explain.
He said to a friend who remonstrated with him on the heat and severity of his language, “Brother
, I have need to be all on fire, for I have mountains of ice about me to melt.”
Well, that dungeon of 1830, that universal apathy, that deadness of soul, that contempt of what called itself intellect, in ten years he changed into the whole country aflame.
He made every single home, press, pulpit, and senate-chamber a debating society, with his