left to the control of those who were connected with it; and an
outsider, as I was, had better keep hands off, so far at least as
any direct efforts were concerned. Nor had I any disposition to
promulgate the anti-slavery convictions of my boyhood, since I well
knew they could have no good effect there; and as I had met a few
radical and half-crazy men in the North, whom I could not avoid
opposing, I was able to say some truthful things respecting them,
which conciliated my questioners. Yet I would not include the great
body of Northerners, whom I admitted I had met in my Kentucky
residence (I hailed from Kentucky), as of that hated class called by
them "abolitionist;" hence they still looked upon me with a shade of
suspicion.

Freedom of opinion in the South upon this subject is not tolerated
for a moment, and no honest anti-slavery man was safe for an hour in
that section. But as I was only a youth, they were willing to
suppose I knew but little of the subject, and I thought that they
were satisfied I was not a dangerous resident of their State. While
things were in this condition I concluded to write to my parents,
who I knew were anxious to hear from me; but I dared not direct a
letter to New York, and hence inclosed it in an envelope to a friend
near Louisville, Kentucky, with the request that he would "hand it
to my father as soon as convenient," not doubting that he would
direct and mail it to New York. In this letter, cautiously written,
I remarked, "This is a hard place to live in, as I had to ride ten
miles to get paper and ink to write this letter;" an unfortunate
statement, as will soon appear. The letter was deposited in the
post-office on April 16th. I went home, and, as if urged by a
guardian, though warlike, spirit, cleaned up my two six-shooters,
and, after examining my ammunition, laid them away unloaded. On the