except the sin of slave-holding, for not espousing the cause of the
slave, Mr. Garrison made his famous retort:


"Then you had better let all your irons burn than neglect your
duty to the slave."


What more did this poor and friendless man, with his one idea and his
harsh language, know of duties and dangers than Daniel Webster, who was
busy saving the Union; than Lyman Beecher, who was not less busy saving
souls; or than Dr. Channing, who was quite as busy saving liberalism in
matters of religion? What folly and presumption it must have seemed to
these mighty men this attempt of Garrison to impress upon them a proper
sense of their obligations to their country.

"Your zeal," said Dr. Beecher to him, with unlimited condescension of
tone--"your zeal is commendable, but you are misguided. If you will give
up your fanatical notions and be guided by us (the clergy) we will make
you the Wilberforce of America."

And so what was the young man, burning up with his one idea, to do in
presence of such a failure to win these men to the leadership of the
anti-slavery movement? He could not hold his peace; his message he was
compelled to deliver in the ears of the nation whether its leaders would
hear or forbear. Perhaps the common people would hearken to what the
wise and powerful had rejected. At any rate they should hear what was
resting upon his soul with the weight of a great woe, the force of a
supreme command. But how was he, penniless and friendless, to roll from
his bosom the burden which was crushing it; to pause long enough in the