ng been a reader of the _Liberator_, and listener to its
editor, before I got a clear apprehension of the principles of the
anti-slavery movement. I had already the spirit of the movement, and
only needed to understand its principles and measures. These I got
from the _Liberator_, and from those who believed in that paper. My
acquaintance with the movement increased my hope for the ultimate
freedom of my race, and I united with it from a sense of delight, as
well as duty.{277}

Every week the _Liberator_ came, and every week I made myself master
of its contents. All the anti-slavery meetings held in New Bedford I
promptly attended, my heart burning at every true utterance against
the slave system, and every rebuke of its friends and supporters. Thus
passed the first three years of my residence in New Bedford. I had not
then dreamed of the posibility(sic) of my becoming a public advocate
of the cause so deeply imbedded in my heart. It was enough for me to
listen--to receive and applaud the great words of others, and only
whisper in private, among the white laborers on the wharves, and
elsewhere, the truths which burned in my breast.

CHAPTER XXIII. _Introduced to the Abolitionists_

FIRST SPEECH AT NANTUCKET--MUCH SENSATION--EXTRAORDINARY SPEECH OF
MR. GARRISON--AUTHOR BECOMES A PUBLIC LECTURER--FOURTEEN YEARS
EXPERIENCE--YOUTHFUL ENTHUSIASM--A BRAND NEW FACT--MATTER OF MY AUTHOR'S
SPEECH--COULD NOT FOLLOW THE PROGRAMME--FUGITIVE SLAVESHIP DOUBTED--TO
SETTLE ALL DOUBT I WRITE MY EXPERIENCE OF SLAVERY--DANGER OF RECAPTURE
INCREASED.

In the summer of 1841, a grand anti-slavery convention was held in
Nantucket, under the auspices of Mr. Garrison and his friends. Until
now, I had taken no holiday since my escape from slavery. Having
worked very hard that spring and summer, in Richmond's brass
foundery--sometimes working all night as well as all day--and needing a
day or two of rest, I attended this convention, never supposing that I
should take part in the proceedings. Indeed, I was not aware that any
one connected with the convention even so much as knew my name. I
was, however, quite mistaken. Mr. William C. Coffin, a prominent
abolitionst(sic) in those days of trial, had heard me speaking to
my colored friends, in the little school house on Second street, New
Bedford, where we worshiped. He sought me out in the crowd, and invited
me to say a few words to the convention. Thus sought out, and thus
invited, I w