heart? Nay, verily. Exceeding love for her children impelled her to
the dreadful deed. The murder was committed by those human hounds,
who drove her to that fearful extremity, where she was compelled to
choose between Slavery or Death for her innocent offspring.

Again I ask, what would be your judgment of this law, if your _own_
daughter and infant grand-daughter had been its victims? You know
very well, that had it been your _own_ case, such despotism, calling
itself law, would be swept away in a whirlwind of indignation, and
men who strove to enforce it would be obliged to flee the country.

----"They are slaves most base,
Whose love of right is for _themselves_, and not for all the race."

I was lately talking with Friend Whittier, whose poetry so stirs the
hearts of the people in favor of freedom and humanity. He told me he
thought the greatest pain he ever suffered was in witnessing the
arrest of a fugitive slave in Philadelphia. The man had lived there
many years; he bore a good character, and was thriving by his
industry. He had married a Pennsylvania woman, and they had a fine
family of children. In the midst of his prosperity and happiness,
the blood-hounds of the United States tracked him out. He was seized
and hurried into court. Friend Whittier was present, and heard the
agonized entreaties of his wife and children. He saw them clinging
to the half frantic husband and father, when the minions of a wicked
law tore him away from them for ever. That intelligent, worthy,
industrious man was ruthlessly plunged into the deep, dark grave of
slavery, where tens of thousands perish yearly, and leave no record
of their wrongs. "A German emigrant, who witnessed the scene, poured
out such a tornado of curses as I never before heard," said