do not know how soon it will end; I do not care how soon the Union goes to pieces. I believe in justice and the law of God; that ultimately the right will prevail. Wrong will prevail for a time, and attract admiration. I have seen in a haberdasher's shop-window the figure of a wooden woman showily arrayed, turning round on a pivot, and attracting the gaze of all the passers-by; but ere long it is forgotten. So it will be with thii transient love of Shivery in Boston; but the love of right will lost as long as tho granite in New Hampshire hills. I will not tell you to despair of freedom because politicians are false; they are often so. Despair of freedom for the black man! No, never. Not till heaven shakes down its stars; nay, not till the heart of man ceases to yearn for liberty; not till the eternal God is hurled from His throne, and a devil takes His place! All the arts of wicked men shall not prevail against the Father; nay, at last, not against the Son.
The very scenes we have witnessed here,—the court-house in chains,—the laws of Massachusetts despised,—the commonwealth disgraced,—these speak to the people with an eloquence beyond all power of human speech. Here is great argument for our cause. This work begets new foes to every form of wrong. There is a day after today,—an eternity after to-morrow. Let us be courageous and active, but cool and tranquil, and full of hope. These are the beginning of sorrows ; we shall have others, and trials. Coatinued material prosperity is commonly bad for a man, always for a nation. I think the time is coming when there will be a terrible contest between Liberty and Slavery. Now is the time to spread ideas, not to bear arms. I know which will triumph : the present love of thraldom is only an eddy in the great river of the nation's life; by and by it will pass $own the stream and be forgot. Liberty will spread with us, its the spring over the New England hills. One spot will blossom, and then another, until at last the spring has covered the whole land, and every mountain rejoices in its verdant splendour.
O Boston! thou wert once the payer and pride … all New England men; and holy hands were laid in baptism on thy baby brow! Thou art dishonoured now; thou hast
