which I would not gladly forego, rather than become in any way an agent in enslaving my brother man. [Sensation.] Where for me would be comfort and solace, after such a work? In dreams and in waking hours, in solitude and in the street, in the meditations of the closet, and in the affairs of men, wherever I turned, there my victim would stare me in the face; from the distant rice-fields and cotton-plantations of the South, his cries beneath the vindictive lash, his moans, at the thought of liberty once his, now, alas! ravished from him, would pursue me, telling the tale of his fearful doom, and sounding in my ears, 'Thou art the man!' [Rapturous applause.]

"Sir, I will not dishonor this home of the Pilgrims, and of the Revolution, by admitting-nay, I cannot believe—that this Bill will be executed here. ['Never!'] Individuals among us, as elsewhere, may forget humanity in a fancied loyality to law; but the public conscience will not allow a man, who has trodden our streets as a freeman, to be dragged away as a slave. [Applause.] By his escape from bondage, he has shown that true manhood, which must grapple to him every honest heart. He may be ignorant, and rude, as he is poor, but he is of a true nobility. The Fugitive Slaves of the United States are among the heroes of our age. In sacrificing them to this foul enactment of Congress, we should violate every sentiment of hospitality, every whispering of the heart, every dictate of religion.

"There are many who will never shrink at any cost, and notwithstanding all the atrocious penalties of this Bill, from

efforts to save a wandering fellow-man from bondage; they will offer him the shelter of their houses, and, if need be, will protect his liberty by force. But, let me be understood, I counsel no violence. There is another power-stronger than any individual arm-which I invoke; I mean that invinciblePublic Opinion, inspired by love of God and man, which, without violence or noise, gently as the operations of nature, makes and unmakes laws. Let this opinion be felt in its Christian might, and the Fugitive Slave Bill will become everywhere upon our soil, a dead letter. No lawyer will aid it by counsel; no citizen will become its agent; it will die of inanition—like a spider beneath an exhausted receiver. O!

it were well the tidings should spread throughout the land, that here, in Massachusetts, this accursed Bill has found no servants. [Cheers.] 'Sire, I have found in Bayonne honest citizens and brave soldiers only; but not one executioner,' was the reply of the governor of that place to the royal mandate of Charles IX., of France, ordering the Massacre of St. Bartholomew. [Sensation.]

"But it rests with you, my fellow-citizens, by your words and your example, by your calm determinations and your devoted lives, to do this work. From a humane, just, and religious people, shall spring a Public Opinion, to keep perpetual guard over the liberties of all within our borders. Nay, more, like the flaming sword of the cherubim at the gates of Paradise, turning on every side, it shall prevent any SlaveHunter from ever setting foot in this Commonwealth! [Cheers redoubled.] Elsewhere, he may pursue his human

prey; he may employ his congenial bloodhounds, and exult

Massachusetts he must

And yet again I say,

in his successful game. But into not come! [Immense enthusiasm.] I counsel no violence. I would not touch his person. Not with whips and thongs would I scourge him from the land. The contempt, the indignation, the abhorrence of the community, shall be our weapons of offence. Wherever he moves, he shall find no house to receive him-no table spread to nourish him-no welcome to cheer him. The dismal lot of the Roman exile shall be his. He shall be a wanderer, without roof, fire, or water. [Sensation.] Men shall point at him in the streets, and on the highways:

"Sleep shall neither night nor day

Hang upon his pent-house lid;

He shall live a man forbid.

Weary seven nights, nine times nine,

Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine.'

The villages, towns and cities shall refuse to receive the monster; they shall vomit him forth, never again to disturb the repose of our community." [Repeated rounds of applause.]

OGDEN HOFFMAN.

In this country newspaper notoriety is so easily obtained, printed compliments by the column-full being sold for a dollar or a dinner, it is not considered a difficult task to become immortal, nor very desirable to enter the prize list with such ambitious competitors for the laurel of fame. A quack who knows not the difference between the veins and the vertebræ, and a pettifogger who never read a page of law, can buy reputation for a shilling a line, go to bed an obscure ignoramus, and find himself famous in the morning. Now this state of society is so sickening to men of sterling talent and true genius, that few who have the ring of true metal in them care to tumble in such a promiscuous scramble for a great

name.

But there are men, who, like the oak king of the forest, stand firmly anchored in the soil, while saplings strew the vale or lean upon its branches, and look through its buds into the future, when the forests folded in its acorn cups shall be the pride and glory of the hills and plains.

Ogden Hoffman is such a man, and his name is as familiar in the Great Metropolis and the Empire State as household words.

He comes of good stock too, learned in the law. His father, Josiah Ogden Hoffman, being the contemporary of