b bent on the destruction
of his rights. Lovejoy died a martyr to free speech and the freedom of
the press.

The tidings of this tragedy stirred the free States to unwonted depths.
The murder of an able and singularly noble man by a mob was indeed
horrible enough, but the blow which took his life was aimed at the right
of free speech and the freedom of the press. He was struck down in the
exercise of his liberties as a citizen of the town where he met death,
and of the State and country to which he belonged. What brave man and
good in the North who might not meet a similar fate for daring to
denounce evils approved by the community in which his lot was cast? Who
was safe? Whose turn would it be next to pay with his life for attempts
to vindicate the birthright of his citizenship? What had Lovejoy done,
what had he written, that thousands of people who did not agree with
Garrison would not have done and have written under like circumstances?
He was not a disciple of Garrison, he did not accept the doctrine of
immediate emancipation, and yet a pro-slavery mob had murdered him. Yes,
who was safe? Who was to be the next? A great horror transfixed the
North, and bitter uncertainty, and tremendous dread of approaching
perils to its liberties.

Ah! had not Garrison spoken much plain truth at the public hearing of
the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society before the insolent chairman and
his committee when he said: "The liberties of the people of the free
States are identified with those of the slave population. If it were not
so, there would be no hope, in my breast, of peaceful deliverance of the
latter class from their bondage. Our liberties are bound together by a
ligament as vital as that which unites the Siamese twins. The blow which
cuts them asunder, will inevitably destroy them both. Let the freedom of
speech and of the press be abridged or destroyed, and the nation itself
will be in bondage; let it remain untrammeled, and Southern slavery must
speedily come to an end." The tragedy at Alton afforded startling
illustration of the soundness of this remark. Classes like individuals
gain wisdom only by experience; and the murder of Lovejoy was one of
those terrific experiences which furrow themselves in the soul of a
people in frightful memories and apprehensions which do not disappear
but remain after long lapse of years.

Twelve days after the murder--it was before the development of the
telegraph and rapid postal facili