defend
it--powerful politicians supported it to the fullest extent.
The worse it was, the better they liked it. Northern
merchants were in favor of it--it 'would conciliate the
South.' Northern ministers in all the churches of commerce
baptized it, defended it out of the Old Testament, or the
New Testament. The Senator of Boston gave it his mighty
aid,--he went through the land a huckster of Slavery,
peddling Atheism: the Representative of Boston gave it his
vote. Their constituents sustained both! All the great
cities of the North executed the bill. The leading Journals
of Boston advised the merchants to withhold all commercial
intercourse from Towns which opposed Kidnapping. There was a
'Union Meeting' at Faneuil Hall. You remember the men on the
platform: the speeches are not forgotten. The doctrine that
there is a Law of God above the passions of the multitude
and the ambition of their leaders, was treated with scorn
and hooting: a loud guffaw of vulgar ribaldry went up
against the Justice of the Infinite God! All the great
cities did the same. Atheism was inaugurated as the first
principle of Republican government; in politics, religion
makes men mad! Mr. Clay declared that 'no Northern gentleman
will ever help return a fugitive Slave!' What took place at
Philadelphia? New York? Cincinnati?--nay, at Boston? The
Northern churches of commerce thought Slavery was a
blessing, Kidnapping a 'grace.' The Democrats and Whigs vie
with each other in devotion to the fugitive slave bill. The
'Compromises' are the golden rule. The North conquered her
prejudices. The South sees this, and makes another demand.
Why not? I am glad of it. She serves us right."

"In 1775, what if it had been told the men all red with
battle at Lexington and Bunker Hill,--'your sons will gird
the Court House with chains to kidnap a man; Boston will
vote for a Bill which puts the liberty of any man in the
hands of a Commissioner, to be paid twice as much for making
a Slave as for declaring a freeman; and Boston will call out
its soldiers to hunt a man through its streets!' What if on
the 19th of April, 1775, when Samuel Adams said, 'Oh! what a
glorious morning is this!' as he heard the tidings of war in
the little village where he passed the night,--what if