"No one will dare deny it. We have all known that for years, but no one would dare to make it public. No good can come of its publication; it would ruin you, ruin your influence, ruin your work. You would lose your _Tribune_ engagement, by which you are now doing so much good. We all feel the help you are to the good cause. Do not throw away your influence!" "Does not the cause of the slave hang on the issue in Congress?" "I think it does." "Is not Mr. Webster's influence all against it?" "Yes, of course!" "Would not that influence be very much less if the public knew just what he is?" "Of course it would, but you cannot afford to tell them. You have no idea what his friends would say, what they would do. They would ruin you." I thought a moment, and said: "I will publish it, and let God take care of the consequences." "Good!" exclaimed Mrs. Julian, clapping her hands. "I would if I were in your place." But when I went to post the letter, I hesitated, walked back and forth on the street, and almost concluded to leave out that paragraph. I shuddered lest Mr. Julian's prediction should prove true. I was gratified by my position on the _Tribune_--the social distinction it gave me and courtesy which had been shown me. Grave Senators went out of their way to be polite, and even pro-slavery men treated me with distinguished consideration. My Washington life had been eminently agreeable, and I dreaded changing popularity for public denunciation. But I remembered my Red Sea, and my motto--"Speak unto the children of Israel that they go forward." The duty of destroying that pro-slavery influence was plain. All the objections were for fear of the consequences to me. I had said God should take care of these, and mailed the letter, but I must leave Washington. Mr. Greeley should not discharge me. I left the capitol the day after taking my seat in the reporter's gallery, feeling that that door was open to other women. The surprise with which the Webster statement was received was fully equalled by the storm of denunciation it drew down upon me. The New York _Tribune_ regretted and condemned. Other secular papers made dignified protests. The religious press was shocked at my indelicacy, and fellows of the baser sort improved their opportunity to the utmost. I have never seen, in the history of the press, such widespread abuse of any one person as that with which I was favored; but, by a strange fatality, the paragraph was copied and copied. It was so short and pointed that in no other way could its wickedness be so well depicted as by making it a witness against itself.