n according to their
moral and intellectual worth, and not according to the color of their
skin. Whatever may be said of the aristocracies here, there is none
based on the color of a man's skin. This species of aristocracy belongs
preeminently to "the land of the free, and the home of the brave." I
have never found it abroad, in any but Americans. It sticks to them
wherever they go. They find it almost as hard to get rid of, as to get
rid of their skins.

The second day after my arrival at Liverpool, in company with my friend,
Buffum, and several other friends, I went to Eaton Hall, the residence
of the Marquis of Westminster, one of the most splendid buildings
in England. On approaching the door, I found several of our American
passengers, who came out with us in the "Cambria," waiting for
admission, as but one party was allowed in the house at a time. We all
had to wait till the company within came out. And of all the faces,
expressive of chagrin, those of the Americans were preeminent. They
looked as sour as vinegar, and as bitter as gall, when they found I was
to be admitted on equal terms with themselves. When the door was opened,
I walked in, on an equal footing with my white fellow-citizens, and from
all I could see, I had as much attention paid me by the servants that
showed us through the house, as any with a paler skin. As I walked
through the building, the statuary did not fall down, the pictures did
not leap from their places, the doors did not refuse to open, and the
servants did not say, "_We don't allow niggers in here_!"

A happy new-year to you, and all the friends of freedom.

My time and labors, while abroad were divided between England, Ireland,
Scotland, and Wales. Upon this experience alone, I might write a book
twice the size of this, _My Bondage and My Freedom_. I visited and
lectured in nearly all the large towns and cities in the United
Kingdom, and enjoyed many favorable opportunities for observation and
information. But books on England are abundant, and the public may,
therefore, dismiss any fear that I am meditating another infliction in
that line;{290} though, in truth, I should like much to write a book
on those countries, if for nothing else, to make grateful mention of the
many dear friends, whose benevolent actions toward me are ineffaceably
stamped upon my memory, and warmly treasured in my heart. To these
friends I owe my freedom in the United States. On their own motion,
withou