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YOL. I.—NO. 1. The Geckly Auglo-Aricm o 1S PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, BY THOS. HHAMILTON, No. 48 BEEKMAN STREET, NEW YORK. TERMS OF SUUSCRIPTION. Two Dollar= per year, or Four Cents per copy, payable on delivery. RATES OF ADVERTISING. Six Cents a line for the first insertion, and Three Cents for cach subsequent insertion. Notices of Births, Marriages, Deaths, Public Meetings, &e., inserted for Twenty-five Cents, pro vided that they do not exceed five lines ; il more than that, Five Cents for each additional line. All eommunications for the pag)er must be ad dressed THOS. HAMILTON, 48 Beekman st., New York. [P. O. Box 1212.] [From the Anglo-African Magazine for July.] THE OBERLIN-WELLINGTON RESCUE. St BY JOHN MERCER LANGSTON. il Tre 13th day of vatcnflmr 1858 is at once, the darkest and the brightest day in the Calendar of Oberlin. It is the darkest day because it was then, that heartless and cruel negro-catchers desecrated the sanctity of this community by their shameless pre sence, and perpetrated one of those black and devilish acts which render the kidnap per so hateful and despicable. The foul betrayal of John Price into the hands of the kidnappers Lowe, Davis, Mitchell, and Jennings, was accomplished through the agencyof Shakespeare Boynton,afast young lad, about fourteen years of age, the son of a prominent Democrat of Russia Town ship,and aman particularly distinguished for his utter want of honor and honesty. It is not wonderful that the son of such a father could be influenced and hired, for the paltry sum of twenty dollars, to assist in doing the base deed of Aidnappng a man. Indeed, it is the opinion of very many excellent and judicious persons, that the father himself gave “aid and comfort,” counsel and assistance, to these traitors to Lhumanity. It is very positively asserted, by Lewis D. Boynton, the father of this lad, however, that he knew nothing of his son's having been employed to betray John Price, till several hours after the deed had been done. And yet, Anderson Jennings, the man who employed Shakespeare, very emplatically stated under oath, when un der examination a$ a witness, that he gave Mr. Boynton full information in regard to his intention of securing the services of his son. Whether Boynton be truthful in his assertion and Jennings false, or Jennings be truthful in his and Rayuton falec, it is not in our power to determine. For the sake of humanity, it is to be hoped, that Boynton knew nothing of this collusion with his son till after its development. That father is indeed base, who can allow his child to do a mean thing for hire. The youthfulness of this lad and his want of suitable training would lead us to excuse his conduct, as a boyish though calamitous indiscretion ; while the father, intelligent and full of years of observation and ex perience, can find no forgiveness at our hands, if he be guilty of aiding in this ne farious procedure. But the 13th day of September, 1858, is the brightest day in the Calendar of Oberlin, because on that day the noble and true men of this place, by their brave and manly conduct in the rescue of John Price, vindicated their determination not to allow the humblest human being “ to be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law,” when in their power to preventit. And on that day, too, Oberlin, with fresh vigor, gave another and more glorious exhibition of her purpose to stand firm in favor of Justice and Christi anity, the Declaration and the Constitution, Law and Order, and against Injustice and Atheism, Despotism and Slavery, Mob-vio lence and Misrule. Indeed, that day and the deeds that distinguish it shall never be forgotten. Posterity shall regard it as the bright and glorious day in the history of this* Gibraltar of Freedom,” and shall deem it worthy of the most sacred re membrance. The manner in which John Price was captured, deserves, in this connection, but a passing notice. It is already well under stood. Without attempting the slightest minuteness of detail, then, it is enough to say that he was ensnared by the huge and monstrous falsehood of young Boynton, who came to him with a friendly appaar ance, but with a heart bent upon his ruin. e knew that this poor fugitive belonged to the class of the energetic, the industri ous, and the faithful. He knew, too, that for several months past, Price had suffered extremely under the most exeruciating bodily disorder, and that, in consequence of his protracted sickness, he had been driven to the last extremity of want ; and, now that he was convalescing, he was anxious to secure emfiloyment, that he might re plenish his exhausted revenue. Therefore, he came to this poor man—poor in body and in purse—saying, “ My father has sent me here to tell you that he wants you to come out and dig potatoes for him, and that he will pay you for your services one dollir and twenty-five cents per day.” But Price was still in such teeble health that he dared not undertake such laborious service. Not suspecting anything wrong —~not knowing the devil that lurked in the heart of this youthful but arch deceiver— he undertook the kind and neighborly task of pointing out the dwelling-place of another industrious and faithful fugitive. whose services Mr. Boynton could seeure. This man lived about two miles from the }'lllage of Oberlin, and to reach his house :;u:::zdue?e]ssary to pass over an unfi‘g— s ]m.}f - As they rode along in the.lr z l';::: ,t hna\ Ing gone about ha}f the dis i ’t f:]y }\\\ere §uddenly, and unexpect .s :’lqr?hnl Price, overtaken by Dept. o — Lowe, Davw., and Mitchell. egro-catchers rode in a fine, dou ble-seated carriage. They were armed | with Bgwie-knives and revolvers. As soon l as they overtook young Boynton and ‘ Price, seizing Price, they dragged him from the buggy in which he was riding, and forced him into the carriage in which they rode. This they did without making exhi bition of the process, or givingany account of the authority in accordance with which they acted. Thus, having secured their prey, by an untravelled route, in the most expeditions manner, they hurried off to- | wards Wellington. Meantime, Shakspeare | Boynton returned to Oberlin to find An dersan Jennings, of whom he was to re ceive compensation for his dirty work. He found Jennings, reported that the negro had been captured, and received his reward. This ended his connection with this black and infamous drama. After having learn ‘ed of this miscreant what had been done, Jennings left Oberlin, and joined his com rades and co-workers in iniquity at Wel lington. But before these ruflian negro-catchers arrived at Wellington, fortunately for the kidnapped man and for the Anti-Slavery cause, the report ot their doings reached Oberlin, and thrilled and aroused our com- | munity, already intensely agitated by vil lainous deeds done within a few days prior to this time by these hunters of men, un der the cover of night. Now one purpose only animated the hearts of the people. Old men and young men, old women and maidens, all expressed inlooks and voice their determination to rescue this stolen man. At once, men of strong heart aund moral nerve—men of stalwart arms and prowess such as knows no fear—with won drous determination pictured in their faces, were seen hurrying off in buggies, car riages, wagons, and some on horse-back, and others on foot, towards Wellington, a place yet to be celebrated in story and in verse, in forensic address and judicial re cord, as the scene of the rescue of John Price, a stolen and kidnapped man, from his cowardly and brutal captors. It is not fit that this rescue be dwelt up on with too great particularity at this time. Names must not be mentioned. The con duct of particular individuals must not be described. It is enough for us to know, just now, that the brave men who came to gether in hot haste, but with well-defined intention, returned as the shades of night came on bringing silence and rest to the world, bearing in triumph to freedom the man who, but an hour before, was on the road to the fearful doom of Slavery. To day Jobn Price wallze ahraad in his free. dom, or reposes under his own vine and fig-tree, with no one to molest him or make him afraid. But for this boon—this glori ous boon—he must be ever grateful to the courageous men who jeopardized their lives, their property, and their liberty to secure his release ; for, according to the Fugitive Slave Law of 1850, those who rescue a man under such circumstances, or who aid, assist, and abet in the rescue, are to be indicted, convicted, imprisoned, and fined. It matters not if its victim be born in freedom and reared under its benign influences, and it be thus distinetly under stood that he is a free man. It matters not if he be kidnapped. In this sense the law is no respector of persons. Nor does it make any complexional discriminations. And still it subjects to pains and penalties most severe and cruel all who oppose its execution, whether the opposition be vio lent, legal, or only such as find an expres sion' in prayerful ejaculations in behalf of the captured. If this statement be doubt ed, let the incredulous peruse with thought fulness and care, the unreasonable, the blas phemous, and the atheistic charge deliv ered by Judge Wilson to the Grand Jury that found bills of indictment against thir ty-seven citizens of Lorain county, charg ing some with rescuing, and others with aiding and abetting in the rescue of John Price. If the incredulous are still unmoved in their unbelief, they would read with edi fication and profit the charges of the same Judge delivered to the traverse Jurors before whom Bushnell and Langston were tried and convicted. All these charges harmonize with, and strikingly illustrate this Fugitive Slave Law. It is under such a Congressional enactment—an enactment whose soul is not unreasonableness, but in justice and wrong—an enaetment whose horrid features are seen in its unconstitu tionality, in its denial of the free exercise of religion, in its subversion of State Sov reignty and individual rights, and in its overthrow of all the ancient bulwarks of liberty and law—that the philanthropic and Christian men who are now confined in the jail of Cuyahoga county, together with those of the noble thirty-seven who have been already released from their confine ment, were indicted by a packed and parti zan Grand Jury, of which Lewis D. Boyn: ton was an influential member. Of the persons thus indicted, only two have as yet been tried. Both were found guilty and sentenced. Mr. Simeon M. Bush nell, the first one tried, is a man of true ‘nobility of soul and Christian fortitude. A man of very small physical endurance, he has a heart capable of the boldest endeav or and the most unshrinking purpose in the discharge of duty. After his conviction, | when ordered to stand up and receive his sentence, Judge Wilson, seeking to extort some word of humiliation and contrition, asked him if he had anything to say why sentence shoild not be pronounced upon him. In a clear and manly voice, he ans wered, “ I have not.” But the Judge was | not satisfied with this stern reply ; so he asked him if he had no regrets to offer for his conduct. To this, Mr. Bushnell, con scious of the rectitude of his intentions and satisfied with the part he had played in the rescue, with very great emphasis and point, replied again, “ I bave not.” Because Mr. Bushnell had no regrets to offer—because. he exhibited the spirit of a man of dignity and courage, and none of the disposition of the poltroon and the coward, he was sen tenced by this unjust Judge to sixty days’ confinement in the county jail, and to pay a fine of six hundred dollars and the costs of the prosecution. And to-day, he, a white man, an American citizen, is in the common jail, serving out his time, for do ing nothing other than giving succor to an oppressed and outraged brother. Mr. Charles H. Langston, the other per son who has been tried, convicted, and sen tenced, needs no eulogistic words from my humble pen. He is widely known as a devoted and laborious advocate of the claims of the negro to liberty and its at tendant blessings. Indeed, his entire life has been a free offering to the Anti-Slavery cause. Discreet and far-seeing, uncom promising and able, he has labored most efficiently in behalf’ of the slave and the disfranchised American. But in no posi tion has he demeaned himself with greater propriety and wisdom, with greater deci sion and courage, and with greater efficien cy, than when he stood before Judge Wil son, and, as the representative of the Ne gro Race, in the most beautiful and pow erful tones, told him why sentence should uot be pronounced upon him. He spoke as follows :(— MR. LANGSTON'S SPEECH. i “1 am for the first time in my life be fore a court of Justice, clgarged with the violation of law, and am now about to be sentenced. But before receiving that sen tence, I propose to say one or two words in regard to the mitigation of that sentence, it it may be so construed. I cannot of course, and do not expeet, that which I may say, will, in any way, change your pre determined line of action. I ask no such favor at your hands. “I know that the courts of this country, that the laws of this country, that the go vernmental machinery of this country, are so constituted as to oppress and outrage colored men, men of my complexion. I cannot then, of course, expect, judging from the past history of the country, any mercy from the laws, from the constitution, or from the courts of the country. “Some days prior to the 13th day of September, 1858, happening to be in Ober lin on a visit, I found the country round about there, and the village itself, filled with alarming rumors as to the fact that slave-catchers, kidnappers, negro-stealers were Tying hidden and skulking about, waiting some opportunity to get their Llasdy hande an gsame holpless ereature to drag him back—or for the first time, into helpless and life-long bondage. 'These reports becoming current all over that neighborhood, old men and innocent wo men and children became exceedingly alarmed for their safety. It was not un common to hear mothers say that they dare not send their children to school, for fear they would be caught up and carried off by the way. Some of these people had become free by long and patient toil at night, after working the long, long day for cruel masters, and thus at length getting money enough to buy their liberty. Others had become free by means of the good will of their masters. And there were others who had become free—to their everlasting honor I say it—by the intensest exercise of their own God-given powers ;—by es caping from the plantations of their mas ters, eluding the blood-thirsty patrols and sentinels so thickly scattered all along ther path, outrunning blood-hounds and horses, swimming rivers and fording swamps, and reaching at last, through in credible difficulties, what they, in their de lusion, supposed to be free soil. 'These three classes were in Oberlin, trembling alike for their safety, because they well knew their fate, should those men-hunters get their hands on them. “In the midst of such excitement the 13th day of September was ushered in— a day ever to be remembered in the his tory of that place, and I presume no less in the history of this Court—on which those men, by lying devices, decoyed into a place where they could get their hands on him—l will not say a slave, for I do not know that—but a man, a brother, who had a right to his liberty under the laws of God, under the laws of Nature, and} under the Declaration of American Inde pendence. | “In the midst of all this excitement, the news came to us like a flash of lightning that an actual seizure under and by means of fraudulent pretences had been made ! “Being identified with that man by color, by race, by manhood, by sympathies, such as God had implanted in us all, I felt it my duty to go and do what I could toward liberating him. I had been taught by my Revolutionary father—and I say this with all due respect to him—and by his honored associates, that the fandamental doctrine of this government was that a// men have a right, to life and liberty, and coming from the Old Dominion I brought into Ohio these sentiments, deeply im pressed upon my heart ; I went to Well ington, and hearing from the parties them selves by what authority the boy was held in custody, I conceived from what little knowledge I had of law, that they had no right to hold him. And as your Homor ‘has repeatedly laid down the law in this (Court, a man is free until he is proven to be legally restrained of his liberty, and I ‘believed that upon that principle of law ’those men were bound to take their pri soner before the very first magistrate they found, and there establish the facts set forth in their warrant, and that until they did this, every man should presume that their claim was unfounded, and to institute such proceedings for the purpose of secur ing an investigation as they might find warranted by the laws of this State. Now, sir, if that is not the plain, common sense and correct view of tie law, then I have NEW YORK, JULY 23, 1859. ‘been misled both by your Honor, and by the prevalent received opinion. “It is said that they had a warrant. Why then should they not establish its validity before the proper officers? And I stand here to-day, sir, to say that with an exception of which 1 shall soon speak, to procure such a lawful investigation of the authority under which they claimed to act, was the part I took in that day's pre ceedings, and the only part. 1 supposed it to be my duty as a citizen of Ohio— excuse me for saying that, sir—as an owt law of the United States (much sensation), to do what I could to secure at least this form of Justice to my brother whose liberty was in peril.— Whatever more than that has been sworn to on this trial, as an act of mine, is false, ridiculously false. 'When I found these men refusing to go, accord ing to the law, as I apprehended it, and subject their claim to an official inspection, and that nothing short of a habeus corpus would oblige such an inspection, T was willing to go even thus far, supposing in that county a Sheriff, might, perhaps, be found with nerve enough to serve it. In this I again failed.—Nothing then was left to me, nothing to the boy in custody, ‘but the confirmation of my first belief that the pretended authority was worthless, ‘and the employment of those means of liberation which belong to us. With re gard to the part I took in the forcible rescue, which followed, I have nothing to say, further than I have already said. The evidence is before you. It is alleged that I said, ¢ We will have him anyhow.” 7is I xever said. 1 did say to Mr. Lowe, what I honestly believed to be the truth, that the crowd were very much excited, many of them averse to longer delay, and bent upon a rescue at all hazards; and that he being an old acquai:‘ance and friend of mine, I was anxious 0 extricate him from the dangerous position he ocecu pied, and therefore advised that he urge Jennings to give the boy up. Further than this I did not say, either to him or any one else. *The law under which T am arraigned is an unjust one, one made to crush the colored man, and one that outrages every feeling of humanity, as well as every rule | of right. 1 have nothing to do with its constitutionality ; about that 1 care but little. I have often heard it said by learn ed and good men that it was unconstitu- | tional ; I remember the excitement that prevailed throughout all the free States when it was passed ; and I remember how often it has been said by individuals, con ventions, legislatures, and even Judges,* that it never could be, never should be, and never was meant to be enforced. 1 had always believed, until the contrary appeared in the actual institution of pro ceedings, that the provisions of this odious statute would never be enforced within the bounds of this State. “ But I have another reason to offer why I should not be sentenced, and one that I think pertinent to the case. I have not had a trial before a jury of my peers. The common law of England-—and you will excuse me for referring to that, since I am but a private citizen—was that every man should be tried before a jury of men occupying the same position in the social scale with himself. That lords should be tried before a jury of lords ; that peers of the realm should be tried before peers of the realm ; vassals before vassals, and aliens before aliens, and they must not come from the district where the crime was committed, lest the prejudices of either per sonal friends or foes should affect the ac cused. The Constitution of the United States guarantees, not merely to its citi-l zens, but to all persons, a trial before an tmpartial jury. 1 have had no such trial. ‘ “The colored man is oppressed by cer tain universal and deeply fixed prejudices. Those jurors are well known to have shar ed largely in these prejudices, and I there fore consider that they were neither im partial, nor were they a jury of my peers. And the prejudices which white people have against colored men, grow out of the facts that we have as a people consented for two hundred years to he slaves of the whites. We have been scourged, crushed, and cruelly oppressed, and have submitted to it all tamely, meekly, peaceably ; I mean as a people, and with rare individual exceptions,—and to-day you see us thus, meekly submitting to the penalties of an infamous law. Now the Americans have this feeling, and it is an honorable one,‘ that they will respect those who will rebel ‘ at oppression, but despise those who tame ly submit to outrage and wrong ; and while our people, as people, submit, they will as a people be despised. Why, they * The following resolutions were reported to and adopted by an indignation meeting, held in Cleveland soon after the passage of the Fugitive ‘ Slave Law, Judge Hiram V, Wilson being on the Committee on Resolutions : 1 1. Resolved, That the passage of the Fugitive | Law was an act unauthorized by the Constitution, | hostile to every principle of justice and humanity, ‘ and, if persevered in, fatal to Haman Freedom. | 2. Resolved, That the law strikes down some | of the dearest principles upon which our fathers predicated their right to assert and maintain their independence, and is characterized by the most tyrannical exercise of power; and that it cannot be sustained without repudiating the doctrines of the Declaration of Independence, and the principles upon which all free governments rest. 3. Resolved, That tyranny consists in’the wil fully violating, by those in power, of man’s natural right to his personal security, personal liberty, and private property ; and it matters not whether the act is exercised by one man or a million of men, it is equally unjust, unrighteous, and destructive of the ends of all just governments. 4. Resolved, That regarding some portions of the Fugitive Law as unconstitutional, and the whole of it as oppressive, unjust and unrighteous we deem it the dmfi of every good citizen to de nounce, oprost and RESIST, by all proper means, the execution of said law, and that we demand its immediate and unconditional repeal, and will not cease to agitate the question, and use all our powers to secure that object, until it is accom plished. will hardly meet on terms of equality with us in a whiskey shop, in a car, at « table, or even at the altar of God—so thorough and hearty a contempt have they for those who will meekly /ie still under the heel of the oppressor. The jury came into the box with that feeling. They knew they had that feeling, and so the Court knows now, and knew then. The gentleman who prosecuted me, the Court itself, and even ‘the counsel who defended me, have that feeling. - “Ilwas tried by a jury who were pre- Jjudiced ; before a Court that was preju diced ; prosecuted by an officer who was prejudiced, and defended, though ably, by counsel that were prejudiced. And there fore it is, your Honor, that I urge by all that is good and great in manhood, that I should not be subjected to the pains and penalties of this oppressive law, when I have 7ot been tried, either by a jury of my peers, or by a jury that were impar tial. “One more word, sir, and I have done. I went to Wellington, knowing that color ed men have no rights in the United States, which white men are bound to respect ; that the Courts had so decided ; that Con gress had so enacted ; that the people had so decreed. “There is not a spot in this wide coun try, not even by the altars of God, nor in the shadow of the shafts that tell the im perishable fame and glory of the heroes of the Revolution ; no, norin the old Phil adelphia Hall, where any colored man may dare to ask a mercy of a white man. Let me stand in that Hall and tell a United States Marshal that my father was a Re volutionary soldier ; that he served under Lafayette, and fought through the whole war, and that he fought for my freedom as much as for his own ; and he would sneer at me, and clutch me with his bloody fingers, and say he has a 7/glkt to make me a slave! And when I appeal to Con gress, they say he has a right to make me a slave ; when I appeal to the people, they say he has a right to make me a slave, and when I appeal to your Honor, your Honor says he has a right to make me a slave, and if any man, white or black, seeks an investigation of that claim, they make themselves amenable to the pains and pen alties of the Fugitive Slave Act, for BLack MEN HAVE NO RIGHTS WHICH WHITE MEN ARE BoUND To REsPECT. (Great Applause.) I, going to Wellington with the full know ledge of all this, knew that if that man was taken to Columbus, he was hopelessly gong. v}().xp;gt(i._r whether he bad ever been in slavery betore or not. I knew tnar'd was in the same situation myself, and that by the decision of your Honor, if any man whatever were to claim me as his slave and seize me, and my brother, being a lawyer, should seek to get out a writ of habeas corpus to expose the falsity of the claim, he would be thrust into prison under one provision of the Fugitive Slave Law, for interfering with the man claiming to be in pursuit of a fugitive, and I, by the perjury of a solitary wretch, would by an other of its provisions be helplessly doom ed to life-long bondage, without the possi bility of escape. “ Some may say that there is no danger of free persons being seized and carried off as slaves. No one need labor under such a delusion. Sir, forrr of the eight persons who were first carried back under the act of 1850, were afterwards proved to be free men. They were free persons, but wholly at the mercy of the oath of one man. And | but last Sabbath afternoon, a letter came to me from a gentleman in St. Louis, in forming me that a young lady who was formerly under my instructions at Colum bus, a free person, is now lying in the Jjail at that place, claimed as the slave of some wretch who never saw her before, and waiting for testimony from relatives at Columbus to establish her freedom. 1 could stand here by the hour and relate such instances. In the very nature of the case they must be constantly occurring. A letter was not long since found upon the person of a counterfeiter when arrested, addressed to him by some Southern gentle man, in which the writer says : | ““Go among the niggers ; find out their marks and scars ; make good deseriptions and send to me, and I'll find masters for 'em.’ “That is the way men are carried ‘ back’ to slavery. *“ But in view ofwall the facts, I say that if ever again a man is seized near me, and is about to be carried southward as a slave, before any legal investigation has been had, I shall hold it to be my duty, as I held it that day, to secure for him, if pos sible, a legal inquiry into the character of the claim bygwhich he is held. And I go further : I say that if it is adjudged illegal to procure even such an investigation, then we are thrown back upon those last de fences of our rights which cannot be taken from us, and which God gave us that we need not be slaves. I ask your Honor,‘i while 1 say this, to place yourself in myl situation, and you will say with me that if your brother, if your friend, if your wife, | if your child, had been seized by men who claimed them as fugitives, and the law of the land forbade you to ask any investiga tion and precluded the possibility of any legal protection or redress, then you will say with me, that you would net only de mand the protection of the law, but you would ecall in your neighbors and your friends, and would ask them to say with you that these, your friends, cowld not be ' taken into slavery. ! “ And now I thank you for this lenien [cy, this indulgence, in giving a man un justly condemned by a tribunal before which he is declared to hl;we no rligli:lg:he rivilege of speaking in his own 1 gnow 513( it will dogn%thing towards vfifiti gating your sentence, but it is a privilege gbegal)l’owed to speak, and I thank you for it. I shall submit to the penalty, be it what it may. But I stand here to say, that if, for doing what I did on that day at ‘Wellington, I am to go in jail six months and pay a fine of a thousand dollars, ac cording to the Fugitive Slave Law—and such is the protection the laws of this coun try afford me—l must take upon myself the responsibility of self-protection ; when I come to be claimed by some perjured wretch as his slave, I shall never be taken into slavery. And as in that trying hour I would have others do to me, as I would call upon my friends to help me, as I would call upon you, your Honor, to help me, as I would call upon you (to the District Attorney) to help me, and upon you (to Judge Dliss,) and upon you (to his counsel,) sokelp me Gop ! I stand here to say that I will do all I can forany man thusseized and held, though the inevitable penalty of six months imprisonment and one thousand dollars fine for each offence hangs over me! We have all a common hamanity, and you all would do that ; your manhood would require it, and no matter what the laws might be, you would honor yourself for doing it, while your friends and your children to all generations would honor you for doing it, and every good and honest man would say you had domne right!” (Great and prolonged applause, in spite of the efforts of Court and Marshal.) This terse, argumentative and eloquent speech so touched the sensibility of the Judge that he sentenced Mr. Langston to confinement in the county jail for but twenty days, to pay a-fine of one hundred dollars and costs of the prosecution. He has already served out his time, and iswl now in his office in Cleveland, discharging his duties as Recording Secretary of the Ohio State Anti-Slavery Society. How the United States officials will col lect the fines imposed upon these men it is impossible to tell. They are said to be destitute of lands, and all manner of per sonal property. It is reported that they are very poor. Then blessed be nothing ! There still remain in jail awaiting their trial, Prof. Henry E. Peck, John Wat son, Henry Evans, J. M. Fitch, David L. Watson, Ralph Plumb, Wilson Evans, A. W. Lyman, John H. Scott, Robert Win sor, and William E. Liucoln. These are all men of indomitable purpose. The ter rible penalties of the Fugitive Slave Law cannot drive them from their firm position in favor of Liberty and Right. Nor are they men who will fear and tremble before a tyrannical Judge. The ruffian threats of a .{iifigggnamfeenrtn %’rl;ost%%utar cannot deter them. ) ’ Inose nves arvo ave marked by acts of selfishness, but by deeds of benevolence and charity. Some of them are distinguished by their scholarly attainments ; all of them are distinguished by their deep and consistent devotion to the welfare of humanity. The large cir cle of friends and acquaintances who daily and hourly express their sympathy for these good and noble men, feel confident that they will conduct themselves in such manner while they remain in jail and when they are brought before the Court for trial, as to further the interests of the Anti-Slavery cause. It is a fact worthy of particular men tion, that in this rescue the colored men played an important and conspicuous part. Twelve of them were indicted ; four of them have not yet been taken into cus tody ; two have been discharged ; one is now at large upon his own recogniznce, and five are still in jail. For the heroic conduct of these worthy men and their white co-laborers, they deserve and shall receive our hearty thanks and lasting gratitude. Upon the conduet of the Court before which Bushnell and Langston have been tried, and before which the rest of the indicted aretobe tried—upon the behavior of the Pro secutof, who has shown himself so anxious and determined to convict these men—upon the character of the Jurors called in the cases already tried, and upon the testimo ny of the witnesses on the part of the Government, it is needless to say a single word. The Court, the Prosecutor, the Jurors, and the witnesses, with one or two exceptions, are Pro-Slavery and Democrat ic in their connections and associations. It is well known, then, what we may expect. And, so far, we have not been disap pointed. But the object of this prosecution can never be accomplished. The free spirit of the Western Reserve cannot be “ erushed out.” Our deep love of liberty, our intel ligent veneration for the precepts of Christianity, and our abiding determina tion to obey God rather than man, no pros ecution, however oppressive, no irksome confinement in gloomy dungeons, no ille gal and unjust confiscation of our property, can ever overthrow and destroy. And this prosecution, so far, has only tended to deepen and strengthen this conviction. | AN INCIDENT IN OUR HONEYMOON. I do not know if any one else will think the story T am going to try to write down as interesting as we—that is, John and I —did. I will try to tell it in the simple words in which it was told tous. But first I must say that we heard it during our honeymoon, which we were spending at a cottage in the beautiful park of Lord ——; I shall callhim Dimdale. The cottage was situated in a wild and lonely part of it, and the deer used to come up close to the door and lie under the fine old oaks, tbrough! whose branches the sun glimmered on the soft warm turf and climps of young fern. And how the birds sang! for it was the beginning of May, and fine hot weather. ‘But to come at once to the story. : ~ In one of our walks we had made ac ‘guaintance with the clergyman, Mr. Mor ton, an old man, with a placid, sweet smile, {and long, snow-white hair, who, somehow, PRICE FOUR CENTS. gave one the idea of perfect happiness and peace. He asked us to drink tea with him in his vicarage, to which we gladly agreed ; and he led us through paths in the forest, all bordered with primroses and bluebells, to a small house covered with creepers, and in front having a garden as neat as you can imagine a garden to be, and full of old-fashioned flowers, such as crown impe rials, starch hyacinths, and polyanthus, and sweet with soutbernwoo«f, etc. Om entering the house, I perceived that the parlor was full of children’s toys and work baskets, and I expected every moment that a whole flock of grandchildren would come rushing in ; but none appeared. 1 suppose Mr. Morton observed my sur prise, for while we were at tea, before the open window, he said : “ Mrs. Fairfield, I see you looking at those toys, and wonder ing what little children come here to enli ven an old man’s loneliness ; but no child comes here. The little girl whose busy fingers last dressed that wooden baby would have been an old woman now, and the merry boys who laughed and shouted at play with those horses, would have been elderly, care-worn men. Yes, they were mine, and in one week they all left me.” I uttered some exclamation of pity, and he went on in a dreamy voice, as if more to himself than to us, looking from the window all the time. “Yes, thank you, my dear young lady, in one week wife and children were taken, and I became the solitary man I have been Mtage Y Y Y T S e a fever,” he continued, after a pause—*“a fever brought here by some wanderers, who came one night to a barn near the vil lage, where one died, and from whom the infection spread. The weather was very bad for it—burning hot, and very dry. There was no rain or dew, so that the rowers drooped and the leaves with ered with the summer sun beating down all day long. There were deaths around me every day, and the bell was always tolling for the passing of a soul or a fune ral. They brought the coffins that way,” and he pointed to a green path out of the forest, “in the evening, when one could hardly see them and their attendants against the dark green foliage” in the dusk. - “I went to the sick as much as possible, but T took every possible precaution against infection to my wife and children. We would have sent our darlings away, but we had no one to send them to, and we ~were a mile and a half away from any in ']‘;fllen, :fi)‘mf; éfgg}eha‘rg ofitg; ffil(l)’filg'm quiet, loving little thing, older than her years. How she used to trot about the house after her mother, trying to help her, and looking up at her with calm, deep blue eyes. Then there was Hugh and Harry, rosy, boisterous boys, and their mother— Ellen, Ellen! All that your bride can be to you, Mr. Fairfield, my wife was to me.” He was silent, and looked from the lat tice window into the sweet spring evening, at the swallows darting about in the sun shine, the young green leaves and the flowers, whose sceat floated through the open wiidow, thinking of the dear com panion who had once walked by his side in that sunshine, and t nded those flowers with him. “ One evening,” he went on, “I was at liberty, and we took the children out, let ting the breeze, what there was of it, blow from us to the village. We went to a hill, from whence we could see the silent vil lage afar off. The boys ran about and shouted in their glee, but little Ellen came and laid her golden head on my knee, and looked in my face with her deep sweet eyes. She said : ‘ Papa, there must be a great many people sorrowful down there in the village. 1 would like to help them. I wish we could comfort them. "I should like so much.” T told her how we could help them, by asking Him who sends us all our troubles to help us to bear them pa tiently, knowing that they are sent in love and pity. Then we walked home, for the sun was setting like a red ball of fire. The children gathered great nosegays of roses and honeysuckles, which they put in wa ter when we got home. The smell of honeysuckles always brings that evening again before me. “My darling laid her doll to sleep just as it lies now, and wished it and myself good-night ; the boys arranged all their play-things, and then their mother took them to bed, and I sat here, where T am now, looking into the darkening night. 1 heard them sing the evening hymn— Ellen and her mother softly and clearly, the boys with loud, eager, joyous voices—and my heart was very thankful for the many blessings vouchsafcd to me. “'That night there was a great cry in our house, as in Egypt of old, for our first. born was to die. The fever had begun. Our frighted servants ran from the house at midnight, and we were left alone with our stricken child. The morning dawned. The boys awoke, and we bid them ' dress themselves, and go and Jhy in the forest Meanwhile, I went to Marston, the near est town, for the doctor and a uurse, re. solved, on their arrival, that I would take the boys away to the woodinan’s wife, An nice ; I knew she would take care of them. But neither nurse nor doctor ecould be spared from Marston, and all that burning July day we watched by our darling’s bed, listening to the distant sound ef the boys at play in the forest, commingling with her ravings. Hardly ravings either, for there was nothing frizhtful ; all was happi ness and peace, as hetyonn%ifehd een, She talked of nm and Hugh, of hes birds and flowers; and of appearing in the presence of her dear Savior. 1 Po, ey e