than the Shenanndoah Mountains, is Love, whose other name is
Justice--which was before Alfred, before Lycurgus, before
Slavery, and will be after it.'

John Brown and, at one time, six of his sons were in the company.
Many were rejected who offered for service, not for lack of
physical stature, but moral. 'I would rather,' said John Brown,
'have the smallpox, yellow fever, and cholera all together in my
camp than a man without principles. It is a mistake to think
that bullies are the best fighters. Give me God-fearing men
--men who respect themselves; and with a dozen of them, I will
oppose a hundred of these ruffians.' These are the men, then,
who were found in Kansas woods, with bare heads and unkempt
locks, in red-topped boots and blue shirts, taking their hasty
meals or fitful sleep, their horses tied to the tree-trunks ready
for swift mounting at the first signal of danger. No sounds of
revelry betray their hiding-place; the spirit of the man in their
midst, with Puritan nobility in his rugged face, and a strange,
awe-inspiring unworldliness in his talk, has entered into them.
No novice is he in the affairs of either world--this or the
Unseen. At night he will look up to the stars that glitter above
the still camp and talk like a theologian, moralizing upon the
fact that while God's stars are unerring in their courses God's
human creatures are so erratic. But he is no mere dreamer; you
may see him, when the enemy is known to be near, sleeping in his
saddle, with his gun across it, that he may be no sooner awake
than ready. One who knew not of this habit was once imprudent
enough to touch him in his sleep, as he wanted to speak to him;
he had only time to knock up the swiftly pointed barrel with his
hand and John Brown's bullet grazed the intruder's shoulder.