ealed frankly
to the sober sense of the clergy.[499] Of the repeal of the Missouri
Compromise, he said again that it was necessary, "in order to
recognize the great principle of self-government and State equality.
It does not vary the question in any degree, that human slavery, in
your opinion, is a great moral wrong. If so, it is not the only wrong
upon which the people of each of the States and Territories of this
Union are called upon to act.... You think you are abundantly
competent to decide this question now and forever. If you should
remove to Nebraska, with a view of making it your permanent home,
would you be any less competent to decide it when you should have
arrived in the country?"[500]

The obloquy which Douglas encountered in Washington was mere child's
play, as compared with the storm of abuse that met him on his return
to Chicago. He afterwards said that he could travel from Boston to
Chicago by the light of his own effigies.[501] "Traitor,"
"Arnold,"--with a suggestion that he had the blood of Benedict Arnold
in his veins,--"Judas," were epithets hurled at him from desk and
pulpit. He was presented with thirty pieces of silver by some
indignant females in an Ohio village.[502] So incensed were the people
of Chicago, that his friends advised him not to return, fearing that
he would be assaulted.[503] But fear was a sensation that he had never
experienced. He went to Chicago confident that he could silence
opposition as he had done four years before.[504]

Three or four days after his return, he announced that on the night of
September 1st, he would address his constituents in front of North
Market Hall. The announcement occasioned great excitement. The
opposition press cautioned their readers not to be deceived by his
sophistries, and hinted broadly at the advisability of breaking up the
meeting.[505] Many friends of Douglas believed that personal violence
was threatened. During the afternoon flags were hung at half mast on
the lake boats; bells were tolled, as the crowds began to gather in
the dusk of the evening; some public calamity seemed to impend. At a
quarter past eight, Douglas began to address the people. He was
greeted with hisses. He paused until these had subsided. But no sooner
did he begin again than bedlam broke loose. For over two hours he
wrestled with the mob, appealing to their sense of fairness; but he
could not gain a hearing. Finally, for the first time in his career,
he was for