Only twenty years ago, in 1835, the friends of the slave in our country were weak and humble, while their great undertaking, just then showing itself, was trampled down and despised. Small companies, gathered together in the name of Freedom, were interrupted and often dispersed by riotous mobs. At Boston, a feeble association of women, called the Female Antislavery Society, sitting in a small room of an upper story in an obscure building, was insulted and then driven out of doors by a frantic crowd, politely termed at the time “gentlemen of property and standing,” which, after various deeds of violence and vileness, next directed itself upon William Lloyd Garrison,--known as the determined editor of the “Liberator,” and originator of the Antislavery Enterprise in our day,--then ruthlessly tearing him away, amidst savage threats and with a halter about his neck, dragged him through the streets, until, at last, guilty only of loving liberty, if not wisely, too well, this unoffending citizen was thrust into the common jail for protection against an infuriate populace. Nor was Boston alone. Even villages in remote rural solitude broke out in similar outrage,--while large towns, like Providence, New Haven, Utica, Worcester, Alton, Cincinnati, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York, became so many fiery craters overflowing with rage and madness. What lawless violence failed to accomplish was urged next through forms of law. By solemn legislative acts, the Slave States called on the Free States “promptly and effectually to suppress all those associations within their respective limits purporting to be Abolition Societies”;[1] and Rhode Island, Massachusetts, and New York basely hearkened to the base proposition. The press, too, with untold power, exerted itself in this behalf, while pulpit, politician, and merchant conspired to stifle discussion, until the voice of Freedom was hushed to a whisper, “alas! almost afraid to know itself.”