by the dereliction of any duty, is as light and uncertain as the fleeting cloud.

In January, 1831, a youth "to fortune and to fame unknown," commenced the publication of a little paper, dedicated to the service of the enslaved. It was commenced with an avowal of the determination "to be as harsh as truth, and as uncompromising as justice." This was the first trumpet-blast ever blown in the New World for impartial liberty; or rather, I should say, the first that gave not an uncertain sound. It was blown by a man who was no respecter of persons; who had the courage to speak the truth in simplicity; and power to make it heard.

Dr. Follen had then been in a Professor's chair at Cambridge about a year. He had married a woman worthy of his love. He had become a father. He had gathered about him many friends, who loved him for his singular loveliness in social and domestic life. He was admired for his rich and varied endowments, his extensive and accurate knowledge, and for his sound understanding. He was honored for his exertions and sacrifices in Europe in the cause of Liberty. He was cherished as an invaluable acquisition to the literature of our country, and as a most successful teacher of our youth. You see, then, that he had as many reasons as any, and more reasons than most, for remaining quietly in his Professor's chair; contenting himself with an occasional sigh over the wrongs of the slave; or an eloquent condemnation of slavery in the abstract; or the utterance of that form of prayer, that the sovereign disposer of all events would in his own good time cause every yoke to be broken, and oppression to cease. He was occupying a sphere of great responsibility, where, it was intimated to him, he might find enough to fill even the large measure of his ability for labor. Then he was wholly dependent upon his own exertions for the support of his family. Moreover, being a foreigner by birth, he was reminded that it was even less decorous in him, than it might be in others to meddle with " the delicate question," which touched so vitally the institutions of a very sensitive portion of his adopted country.

But Charles Follen was a " genuine man." In godly sincerity

he felt, as well as said, that whatever affected the welfare of mankind was a matter of concern to himself. He was astonished at the apathy of the great and good in our country, to the wretched condition of more than a sixth part of the population; to the disastrous influence of their enslavement upon the characters of their immediate oppressors, upon the well-being of the whole Republic, and the cause of liberty throughout the world. When, therefore, the words of Garrison came to his ears, "he rejoiced in spirit, and said, I thank thee, O Father, that thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent and hast revealed them unto babes, even so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight." Garrison had sounded a note, that thrilled those cords of love, which were so well strung in his true heart, that even a sigh of human misery would call forth a sympathetic response. He sought out the Editor of the Liberator. He found him in a little upper chamber, where were his writing desk, his types and his printing press, his parlor by day, his sleeping room by night, all within a space of less than twenty feet square; and where, with the faithful co-partner of his early toils, he was living like the four children of Israel in the midst of the corruptions of Babylon, upon pulse to eat and water to drink. This was a sight to fill with hope his sagacious soul. While, therefore, many who accounted themselves servants of God and friends of humanity, thought or affected to think that no good could come out of such a Nazareth, (if indeed they had so much as heard that there was such a Nazareth,) he often went to the Liberator office to see and converse with the young man, who had dared to brave the contumely and detestation of the world, in preaching deliverance to the captives, and liberty to them that are bruised. He was not deterred from identifying himself with the Abolitionists, as so many of the wise and prudent profess to have been, by the severe language and unsparing denunciations used by Mr. Garrison and other members of our body. He did not approve of this style in them, nor did he approve of it in their opposers; and could hardly suppress

* Isaac Knapp.

a smile at the self-complacency with which many would reprobate the severity of the Abolitionists, and in the same breath call them fanatics, incendiaries, madmen, traitors, and even cutthroats. In his view, however, it was not a question of taste or style, that Mr. Garrison had raised for the decision of his countrymen. It was a question of right, of humanity. Dr. Follen did not hesitate to show himself on the side of right, because there were men there, who contended with other weapons than such as he thought proper, or with more vehemence than he deemed necessary. He would much sooner, for he might with more reason, have refused to join himself to the army that overthrew the throne of Napoleon, because many, who were enlisted against the usurper were cruel, licentious soldiers. But in neither case could he regard the conduct, or the misconduct of others, as the index to his duty.

No-he felt if the cause of the crushed, benighted slaves, and their wretched masters, was pleaded unskilfully, there was all the more need, that the wisest and best men in the community should espouse that cause, and show that it could be conducted with equal fidelity, equal ardor, equal strength of argument and power of eloquence, and possibly with better temper. He knew that Mr. Garrison was incited to greater vehemence and severity by the coldness, and heartless indifference of almost all around him; and that nothing would so soon attemper his zeal, as to find himself supported, instead of opposed, by the wisest and best men in the community. He had heard and he felt the force of Mr. Garrison's reply to an early friend, who was remonstrating with him on his violence of language. "Why," said that friend, " you write as if you were all on fire." "I have need to be ALL on fire," was his solemn reply, "for I have mountains of ice about me to melt.".

It has been matter of no little surprise with some, that one so mild as Dr. Follen, should have joined himself so early as he did, and adhered so steadfastly as he has done to Mr. Garrison. I know he was as gentle as St. John. But then he had that heroic spirit, which impelled and enabled that gentlest of the Apostles to stand up at the foot of the cross, in face of the infu

riated multitude. He conferred not with flesh and blood. He stopped not to inquire how it might affect his temporal interests, or even his good name, to espouse so unpopular a cause. "Some men," said he, " are so afraid of doing wrong, that they never do right." The shameful fact, that the cause of millions of enslaved human beings was unpopular in a country, which made such high pretensions to liberty as ours, was enough to raise him above all personal considerations. He saw that if this land was ever to be redeemed from the chains of iron, and chains of gold, and chains of prejudice, which bind it, it would be so as by fire.

In 1832, the N. E. Anti-Slavery Society was instituted. He approved its principles and purposes. In the fall of 1833 he made himself a member of it. He soon after was elected one of its Vice Presidents, and continued to the time of his death an efficient officer, except during the period of his residence in New-York.

He attended the first New England Anti-Slavery Convention, held in Boston, May, 1834. He was a member of the Committee of Arrangements. He was Chairman of the Committee appointed by that Convention to prepare an Address to the People of the United States. To that Address, written by him, I refer all who would know how deeply he was interested at that time, in the enterprise of the Abolitionists; how thoroughly he understood the principles on which we have from the first relied; and how unfeignedly he desired to make them acceptable to his fellow-citizens, so far as this could be done by a lucid exposition of them, and an earnest appeal in their behalf,

For fourteen months after the first of April, 1835, I was your General Agent and Corresponding Secretary. In this situation it was my happiness to enjoy a frequent personal intercourse with our deceased brother. It was during the most stormy period we yet have known. It was a time to try men's souls. Verily it seemed as if the powers of Hell were let loose.

Our fellow-citizens at the South were exceeding mad. They gnashed their teeth upon us. They were beside themselves with rage. They set all State comity, all law and mercy at

naught. Seizing the reins of the civil magistrate, they drove, Jehu like, through their States, trampling down every one who was even suspected of Abolitionism. The proslavery spirit of the North threw off all disguise, and summoned its agents and engines to do the bidding of the South. George Thompson was here; that glorious man, whom the philanthropists of England delight to honor, to whom the eight hundred thousand redeemed in the Islands of the West owe more than to any other living one-who is now sacrificing himself in exertions, which human strength cannot long endure, that he may break the yoke under which a hundred millions of his fellow subjects are grovelling on the sunny plains of HindoostanGeorge Thompson-that incarnation of eloquence was here, laboring more abundantly and with more effect than any, to redeem our country from the sin, shame, sorrow, ruin of slavery -laboring in the spirit of heavenly love, which endureth all things and hopeth all things. His life was put in imminent peril; and all who were known to be Abolitionists were despitefully treated.

Wherever we went, mobs arose to withstand us. Newspapers, handbills, placards, reviled and threatened. The magistrates not only refused us their protection, but in many places openly abetted our persecutors. In Boston, every church was closed against our meetings; and not a hall could we hire save our little one at 46 Washington street. In fact, the Abolitionists were turned out of doors to breast as they could the fury of the storm. The political papers, with one or two exceptions, did all they could to exasperate the public mind, some of them even counselling deeds of blood. And the doors of Faneuil Hall were thrown open, that the gentlemen of property and standing might crowd that sacred place to execrate the cause of liberty, and prepare their creatures to inflict that indelible stain upon the fair fame of our city, the mob of October 21, five thousand strong, which broke up a meeting of Anti-Slavery women -tore down the sign of our Anti-Slavery office-and dragged the Editor of an Anti-Slavery paper through the streets with a halter about him. Almost every one of the clergy stood aloof.