Francis Jackson Garrison, William Lloyd Garrison, 1805-1879; the story of his life told by his children: volume 3

[285] friends. The rain, which was pouring down so copiously when we left Boston, accompanied us nearly all the distance, an immense quantity having fallen over a wide tract of country. . . .

In the course of another hour, I shall be on my way to our meeting at the Tabernacle, ‘bound in the spirit,’ as Paul said of old, ‘not knowing the things that shall befall me there,’ saving that ‘bonds and afflictions abide with me, in every city,’ though ‘none of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto me,’ in comparison with the sacred cause to which I have so long been consecrated. That our meeting will be a stormy one, I have very little doubt—perhaps brutal and riotous in the extreme;—for Bennett, in each number of¹ his infamous Herald, for a week, has been publishing the most atrocious and inflammatory articles respecting us, avowedly to have us put down by mobocratic violence; and it will be strange indeed if, with his almost omnipotent influence over all the mobocratic elements in this city, we are permitted to meet without imminent personal peril. Bennett has aimed to hold me up as a special object of vengeance; and thus I am doomed to go, under circumstances of peculiar trial and danger. It is evident that, as long as our meetings are held, he is determined to set the mob upon us; with what temporary success, will soon appear. As to the final result of all this, there can be no doubt. It is the prerogative of the God whom we serve to cause the wrath of man to praise him, and the remainder of wrath to restrain.

Here I must pause. We are all in the hands of a good Father, for time and eternity.

2 o'clock P. M.

Well, we have had our meeting, and, thus far, thank God, all goes well, even triumphantly with us, notwithstanding the desperate efforts of the New York papers to get up a ferocious mob against us. Not that we have not had a very tumultuous, nay, even stormy time; the ocean of feeling has been lashed into a fury, but the proud waves were stayed, and a song of deliverance is in our mouths. I have not time, of course, to give you the particulars. The Tabernacle was crowded beyond all precedent. Everything proceeded, for a time, very peaceably. I read a portion of the Scriptures—prayer was offered by Henry² Grew—and I proceeded to make my speech about the religion of the country, when, at last, the pent — up feelings of the mobocrats broke out, and, with the notorious Capt. Rynders at their head, they came rushing on to the platform, yelling, cheering,