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

‘ [252] the other.’ ‘Oh,’ said he, ‘I am not in favor of slavery—I should never think of advocating it—though I don't know as we can say that there is any specific injunction against it in the Scriptures.’ ‘Oh,’ said I, interrupting him, and placing my hand on my heart, ‘the injunction is here — inside of every human being.’ ‘Catholic priests are not in favor of slavery,’ he replied. ‘Do you intend visiting the slave States?’ I inquired, and, on receiving an affirmative answer, I said— ‘Well, I am confident you will find at the South Catholic priests and Catholic laymen who are slaveholders and slavebuyers.’ In order that there should be no room for misconception, I distinctly said to him, ‘The abolitionists have no wish or design to divert you from the great mission which you have come to America to prosecute; on the contrary, they feel a deep and lively interest in that mission, and desire that your efforts may be crowned with abundant success. But they trust that, while you are in the country, you will occasionally find an opportunity, both in public and in private, to admonish your countrymen to be true to liberty, and to give no countenance to slavery or its abettors; for there is great need of such counsel, as they are giving the weight of their religious and political influence to the side of the Slave Power. They hold the key of the slave's dungeon, as the balance of political power is in their hands. Moreover, the anniversary of British West India emancipation was deemed by us an event in which you would feel a special interest, and might participate with great propriety. We have not forgotten,’ I continued, ‘that, seven years ago, an Address was sent from Ireland, signed by Daniel O'Connell, Theobald Mathew, and seventy thousand others, invoking the Irishmen and Irishwomen in America to join with the abolitionists, as the only true and consistent friends of liberty; and we feel, therefore, that we are not intrusive, but rather warranted, in asking you to renew an appeal so important, and to which they have given little or no heed.’ ‘Oh,’ said he, as if the act had long since passed from his memory into oblivion, ‘I do now recollect that I signed such an Address; and I also recollect that at that time it subjected me to a good deal of odium.’¹ This was said as if he had