re riots everywhere. Garrison was dragged through the streets of
Boston with a rope around his body and his life was saved only by
lodging him in jail; Elijah Lovejoy was slain at Alton, Illinois, while
defending his press; Marius Robinson, an anti-slavery lecturer, was
tarred and feathered in Mahoning County, Ohio; in the cities of the
south, mobs broke into the postoffice and made bonfires of anti-slavery
papers and pamphlets found there. Quarrels and dissension in the
anti-slavery ranks developed in time, but when the Civil War was over,
the leaders of the Republican party united with Garrison's friends in
raising for him the sum of $30,000, and after his death the city of
Boston raised a statue to his memory. Perhaps no better estimate of him
has ever been made than that of John A. Andrew, war governor of
Massachusetts:

"The generation which preceded ours regarded him only as a wild
enthusiast, a fanatic, or a public enemy. The present generation sees in
him the bold and honest reformer, the man of original, self-poised,
heroic will, inspired by a vision of universal justice, made actual in
the practice of nations; who, daring to attack without reserve the
worst and most powerful oppression of his country and his time, has
outlived the giant wrong he assailed, and has triumphed over the
sophistries by which it was maintained."

Closely second to Garrison in the awakening of the public conscience to
the enormities of slavery was Theodore Parker, one of the purest, most
self-sacrificing and interesting of personalities. He came of good
stock. His grandfather, John Parker, commanded the little company of
minute-men who held the bridge at Lexington on that fateful nineteenth
of April, 1775; his father a farmer, and Theodore himself the youngest
of eleven children. The family was poor and the boy was brought up to
hard labor, with short intervals of schooling now and then. But his
thirst for knowledge seems to have been insatiable, and he read
everything he could lay his hands on, even to translations of Homer and
Plutarch and Rollin's "Ancient History." A century ago, a book was a far
greater treasure than it is to-day, when their very number has made us
in a way contemptuous of them; and the few which young Parker could
secure were read and re-read and learned through and through. His memory
was amazing, and at the age of twenty he walked from his home in
Lexington to Cambridge, took the entrance examination for Harv