But he was to benefit the cause in another way than by printing editorials. The place was attacked, the presses broken into fragments, the type flung into the Mississippi River, and Lovejoy was killed. A tremor of horror ran through the North--it was not the question of slavery--no, it was the right of free speech. A meeting was called at Faneuil Hall to consider the matter and pass fitting resolutions. There was something beautifully ironical in Boston interesting herself concerning the doings of a mob a thousand miles away, especially when Boston, herself, had done about the same thing only two years before. Boston preferred to forget--but somebody would not let her. Just who called the meeting, no one seemed to know. The word "Abolition" was not used on the placards--"free speech" was the shibboleth. The hall had been leased, and the assembly was to occur in the forenoon. The principal actors evidently anticipated serious trouble if the meeting was at night. The authorities sought to discourage the gathering, but this only advertised it. At the hour set, the place--the "Cradle of Liberty"--was packed. The crowd was made up of three classes, the Abolitionists--and they were in the minority--the mob who hotly opposed them, and the curious and indifferent people who wanted to see the fireworks. Many women were in the audience, and a dozen clergymen on the platform--this gave respectability to the assemblage. The meeting opened tamely enough with a trite talk by a Unitarian clergyman, and followed along until the resolutions were read. Then there were cries of, "Table them!"--the matter was of no importance. A portly figure was seen making its way to the platform. It was the Honorable James T. Austin, Attorney-General of the State. He was stout, florid, ready of tongue--a practical stump speaker and withal a good deal of a popular favorite. The crowd cheered him--he caught them from the start. His intent was to explode the whole thing in a laugh, or else end it in a row--he didn't care which. He pooh-poohed the whole affair, and referred to the slaves as a menagerie of lions, tigers, hyenas--a jackass or two--and a host of monkeys, which the fool Abolitionists were trying to turn loose. He regretted the death of Lovejoy, but his taking-off should be a warning to all good people--they should be law-abiding and mind their own business. He moved that the resolutions be tabled. The applause that followed showed that if a vote were then taken the Attorney-General's motion would have prevailed.