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[114] has almost wholly grown out of my recollections. It is ahead of Boston in population and extent, but has not as many good residences or handsome stores. The old jail that I once had the honor and happiness to occupy for a time has been torn down, and a new and handsome prison erected upon its site; so the charm was broken, and it was useless to think of visiting my old cell.1

High walls and huge the body may confine, etc.

The city is very quiet and very clean; and the general appearance of the people, including the colored people, is creditable.

Yesterday and to-day, I have attended the National Convention for the nomination of President and Vice-President of the U. S. It has been a full one, and its proceedings have been such as to gladden my heart, and almost make me fear that I am at home dreaming, and not in the State of Maryland. Even my friend Phillips would have been highly gratified


1 “Our travelling companion was no other than that fanatical, heretical, and incendiary gentleman, Mr. William Lloyd Garrison of Bunker Hill— whose company in the cars, a few years ago, would not have rendered a journey southward eminently enviable; to whom, however, on his late journey, as far south of Mason and Dixon as we could get, all hats went off, all hands were thrust in welcome, and all hospitable honors shown—in the midst of which the bewildered man stood a modest and meek-minded conservative before those more fiery radicals on whom the new pentecost has fallen with its tongues of flame. Not having been in Baltimore since he was there imprisoned, thirty-four years ago, and never in his life having been in Washington (honest man!), his journey was full of strange emotions at every turn. Condemned as a criminal for speaking in a slave city against slavery, he returned to that city to find it so far regenerated that to-day Baltimore is ready to give a larger proportional vote than Boston for universal liberty; The court in which Mr. Garrison was tried and sentenced is now presided over by a radical Abolitionist—Judge Hugh L. Bond, one of the most indefatigable and influential Unionists in the State, who, to gratify our curiosity, hunted up from the old records of the court the time-yellowed papers of indictment against Mr. Garrison, which that gentleman, putting on his spectacles, perused with eyes as full of merriment as we noticed in Horace Greeley's, on being dismissed from his contempt of Judge Barnard's court. As we had threatened to put Mr. Garrison into his old cell, and shut him up for a night, we were disappointed to learn that the city authorities, not foreseeing how they were spoiling a good historical incident, had torn down the old jail and built a new one in its place—where, however, not the opposers but abettors of slavery and treason are now confined! Thus the gallows which was built for Mordecai, is used for hanging Haman! Eight or nine of the original jurymen who gave the verdict against Mr. Garrison are still living, and Judge Bond jocosely threatened to summon them all into court, that Mr. Garrison might forgive them in public! We bargained in advance for a photograph of the scene” (Theodore Tilton, in the Independent; Lib. 34: 104).

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