HARRIET MARTTNEAU. 489 " The moment of reading this note was one of the most painful of my life. I felt that I could never be happy again if I refused what was asked of me ; but to comply was probably to shut against me every door in the United States but those of the Abolitionists. I should no more see persons and things as they ordinarily were. I should have no more comfort or pleasure in my travels ; and my very life would be, like other people's, endangered by an avowal of the kind desired. George Thompson was then on the sea, having narrowly escaped with his life, and the fury against ' foreign incendiaries ' ran high. Houses had been sacked ; children had been carried through the snow from their beds at midnight ; travelers had been lynched in the market-places, as well as in the woods ; and there was no safety for any one, native or foreign, who did what I was now compelled to do. Having made up my mind, I was considering how the word of sympathy should be given, when Mrs. Loring came up, with an easy and smiling countenance, and said : " ' You have had my husband's note. He hopes you will do as he says ; but you must please yourself, of course.' " I said, ' No ; it is a case in which there is no choice.' " ' Oh, pray do not do it unless you like it. You must do as you think right.' " < Yes,' said I, k I must.' " At first, out of pure shyness, I requested the president to say a few words for me ; but, presently, remembering the importance of the occasion and the difficulty of set- ting right any mistake the president might fall into, I agreed to that lady's request, that I should speak for myself. Having risen, therefore, with his note in my hand, and being introduced to the meeting, I said, as was precisely recorded at the time, what follows : " ' I have been requested by a friend present to say something — if only a word — to express my sympathy in
