ered was in witnessing the
arrest of a fugitive slave in Philadelphia. The man had lived there
many years; he bore a good character, and was thriving by his
industry. He had married a Pennsylvania woman, and they had a fine
family of children. In the midst of his prosperity and happiness,
the blood-hounds of the United States tracked him out. He was seized
and hurried into court. Friend Whittier was present, and heard the
agonized entreaties of his wife and children. He saw them clinging
to the half frantic husband and father, when the minions of a wicked
law tore him away from them for ever. That intelligent, worthy,
industrious man was ruthlessly plunged into the deep, dark grave of
slavery, where tens of thousands perish yearly, and leave no record
of their wrongs. "A German emigrant, who witnessed the scene, poured
out such a tornado of curses as I never before heard," said
Whittier; "and I could not blame the man. He came here supposing
America to be a free country, and he was bitterly disappointed. Pity
for that poor slave and his bereaved family agonized my heart; and
my cheeks burned with shame that my country deserved the red-hot
curses of that honest German; but stronger than either of those
feelings was overpowering indignation that people of the Free States
were compelled by law to witness such barbarities."

Many of you have heard of William and Ellen Crafts, a pious and
intelligent couple, who escaped from bondage some years ago. She
disguised herself in male attire, and passed for a white gentleman,
taking her darker colored husband with her as a servant. When the
Fugitive Slave Act went into operation, they received warning that
the hounds were on their track. They sought temporary refuge in the
house of my noble-hearted friend, Ellis Gray Loring, who then
resided in the vicinity of Boston. He and his family were absent for
some days; but a lady in the house invited Mr. Crafts to come in and
stay till they returned. "No, I thank you," he replied. "There is a
heavy fine for sheltering fugitives; and it would not be right to
subject Mr. Loring to it without his consent." "But you know he is a
true friend to the slaves," urged the lady. "If he were at home, I
am sure he would not hesitate to incur the penalty." "Because he is
such a good friend to my oppressed race, there is all the more
reason why I should not implicate him in my affairs, without his
knowledge," replied this nobleman of nature. His wife h