ercer waxed the multitude; more and more frightful became the uproar.
The long-pent-up excitement of the city and its hatred of Abolitionists
had broken loose at last and the deluge had come. The mayor tossed upon
the human inundation as a twig on a mountain stream, and with him for
the nonce struggled helplessly the police power of the town also.

Upstairs in the hall the society and its president are quite as
powerless as the mayor and the police below. Miss Mary S. Parker, the
president, is struggling with the customary opening exercises. She has
called the meeting to order, read to the ladies some passages from the
Bible, and has lifted up her voice in prayer to the All Wise and
Merciful One "for direction and succor, and the forgiveness of enemies
and revilers." It is a wonderful scene, a marvelous example of Christian
heroism, for in the midst of the hisses and threats and curses of the
rioters, the prayer of the brave woman rose clear and untremulous. But
now the rioters have thrown themselves against the partition between the
landing-place and the hall. They are trying to break it down; now, they
have partially succeeded. In another moment they have thrown themselves
against the door of the office where Garrison is locked. The lower panel
is dashed in. Through the opening they have caught sight of their
object, Garrison, serenely writing at his desk. "There he is! That's
Garrison! Out with the scoundrel!" and other such words of recognition
and execration, burst from one and another of the mob. The shattering of
the partition, the noise of splitting and ripping boards, the sharp
crash caused by the shivering of the office door, the loud and angry
outcries of the rioters warn the serene occupant of the office that his
position has become one of extreme peril. But he does not become
excited. His composure does not forsake him. Instead of attempting to
escape, he simply turns to his friend, Burleigh, with the words, "You
may as well open the door, and let them come in and do their worst." But
fortunately, Burleigh was in no such extremely non-resistant mood.

The advent of the mayor and the constables upon the scene at this point
rescued Garrison from immediately falling into the hands of the mob, who
were cleared out of the hall and from the stairway. Now the voice of the
mayor was heard urging the ladies to go home as it was dangerous to
remain; and now the voice of Maria Weston Chapman, replying: "If this is
the