ugh, I was
called to take the stand. Just at this moment there was no small stir
in rushing forward; so much indeed, that I thought they were coming up
to mob me. I should think that in less than fifteen minutes there were
about one thousand persons standing around, listening. I saw many of
them shedding tears while I related the sad story of my wrongs. At
twelve o'clock we adjourned the meeting, to meet again at the same
place at two P.M. Our afternoon meeting was well attended until nearly
sunset, at which time, we saw some signs of a mob and adjourned. The
mob followed us that night to the house of Mr. Ore, and they were
yelling like tigers, until late that night, around the house, as if
they wanted to tear it down.

In the fall of 1844, S.B. Treadwell, of Jackson, and myself, spent two
or three months in lecturing through the State of Michigan, upon the
abolition of slavery, in a section of country where abolitionists
were few and far between. Our meetings were generally appointed in
small log cabins, school houses, among the farmers, which were some
times crowded full; and where they had no horse teams, it was often
the case that there would be four or five ox teams come, loaded down
with men, women and children, to attend our meetings.

But the people were generally poor, and in many places not able to
give us a decent night's lodging. We most generally carried with us a
few pounds of candles to light up the houses wherein we held our
meetings after night; for in many places, they had neither candles nor
candlesticks. After meeting was out, we have frequently gone from
three to eight miles to get lodging, through the dark forest, where
there was scarcely any road for a wagon to run on.

I have traveled for miles over swamps, where the roads were covered
with logs, without any dirt over them, which has sometimes shook and
jostled the wagon to pieces, where we could find no shop or any place
to mend it. We would have to tie it up with bark, or take the lines to
tie it with, and lead the horse by the bridle. At other times we were
in mud up to the hubs of the wheels. I recollect one evening, we
lectured in a little village where there happened to be a Southerner
present, who was a personal friend of Deacon Whitfield, who became
much offended at what I said about his "Bro. Whitfield," and
complained about it after the meeting was out.

He told the people not to believe a word that I said, that it was all
a humbug