The warm and generous co-operation extended to me by the friends of my despised race--the prompt and liberal manner with which the press has rendered me its aid--the glorious enthusiasm with which thousands have flocked to hear the cruel wrongs of my down-trodden and long enslaved countrymen portrayed--the deep sympathy of the slave, and the strong abhorrence of the slaveholder, everywhere evinced--the cordiality with which members and ministers of various religious bodies, and of various shades of religious opinion, have embraced me and lent me their aid--the kind hospitality constantly proffered to me by persons of the highest rank in society--the spirit of freedom that seems to animate all with whom I come in contact--and the entire absence of everything that looked like prejudice against me, on account of the color of my skin--contrasting so strongly with my long and bitter experience in the United States, that I look with wonder and amazement on the transition. In the Southern part of the United States I was a slave, thought of and spoken of as property. In the language of the law, "held, taken, reputed and adjudged to be chattel in the hands of my owners and possessors, and their executors, administrators, or assigns, to all intents, constructions, and purposes whatever."--Brev. Digest, 224. In the Northern States, a fugitive slave, liable to be hunted at any moment like a felon, and to be hurried into the terrible jaws of slavery--doomed by an inveterate prejudice against color to insult and outrage in every hand. (Massachusetts out of the question)--denied the privileges and courtesies common to others in the use of the most humble of conveyances--shut out from the cabins on steamboats--refused admission to respectable hotels--caricatured, scorned, scoffed, mocked and maltreated with impunity by any one (no matter how black his heart), so he has a white skin.