‘You declare that you never heard of my name before—2 that we are entire strangers to each other. But you knew, it appears, my age and origin long ago. (Vide the Yankee of Feby. 27 and March 12.) I have only to repeat without vanity, what I declared publicly to another opponent—a political one— (and I think he will never forget me,) that, if my life be spared, my name shall one day be known so extensively as to render private enquiry unnecessary; and known, too, in a praiseworthy manner. I speak in the spirit of prophecy, not of vainglory,—with a strong pulse, a flashing eye, and a glow of the heart. The task may be yours to write my biography.’
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lose it, I lose the means whereby I obtain my daily bread.’
The proprietor of the Philanthropist promptly 1 corroborated his statement that his retirement from it was wholly voluntary, and expressed surprise that he should have deemed ‘the unfounded and dastardly charge’ worth noticing, when made by such a man as Neal.
The latter's comments on his letter, however, so exasperated Mr. Garrison that he wrote a second, of which this is the concluding paragraph:
1 Nat. Philanthropist, Aug. 22, 1828.
2 Portland Yankee, August 20, 1828; Neal's Wandering Recollections of a Busy Life, p. 401; cf. ante, p. 76.
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