been introduced for the gradual abolition of slavery in that State, “he was in favor of a speedier extinction of the anomaly, and moved to amend the bill so as to totally abolish slavery after a certain day.” His amendment having been rejected, he voted for the original bill, which was lost.‘Probably,’ continues Mr. Garrison,
it was his last effort in that direction; for, in 1831-2,–I cannot now determine the precise date, but not long after the publication of the Liberator was commenced,—Aaron Burr visited Boston, and sent me a special request to have an interview with him at the Marlboroa Hotel. Curious to see so noted a man, and especially to know what could be his object in soliciting an acquaintance, I at once complied with his request, and had a free conversation with him on the subject of slavery. He received me with the suavity and politeness for which he was so remarkable, and with great adroitness undertook to dissuade me from prosecuting the anti-slavery cause, and continuing to publish the Liberator—skilfully setting forth the hopelessness of my object, the perils to which I should be subjected, the dangers of a general emancipation of the slaves, the power and spirit of the slave oligarchy, etc., etc. His manner was patronizing, and, with his strong and plausible representations of the dangers and difficulties in the case, well calculated to make a deep impression on my then youthful mind. He had a remarkable eye, more penetrating, more fascinating than any I had ever seen, while his appearance was truly venerable. But he was baffled in his purpose, and soon found that he was dealing with one who occupied a very different plane from his own; whose trust was not in man, but in the living God; who was not to be intimidated or discouraged by any portrayal of consequences, whether real or imaginary; who was animated by a love of impartial liberty, and could not stoop to any considerations of worldly policy. As he revealed himself to my moral sense, I saw that he was destitute of any fixed principles, and that unyielding obedience to the higher law was regarded by him as credulity or fanaticism. Yet I do not remember that he undertook to argue the rightfulness of slavery his aim being, rather, to convince me both of the folly and danger of attempting to struggle with the Slave Power for its overthrow. We parted—he courteous and plausible to the last, and I firm and uncompromising—and we never met again. What other object brought him to Boston, I could not learn: the next day, he returned to New York.