What is called the “argument” began as soon as order was established. First the lawyer on one side, a much disfigured man named B. B., tried to show that all the evidence was in favor of the slaveholder. That is, that the man claimed was really the escaped slave, and this being so, the commissioner ought to give him up. Then the other, G. E., made a most satisfactory response, stating that the only evidence to be relied upon was the gardener’s account book, and that distinctly showed the man to have been free at the time he was said to have run away. Oh, mother! I wish thee could have heard him. I know it is dangerous to allow one’s enthusiasm too great liberty, but I never felt so well satisfied with any speaker before.
At last it was over and a long reading from the commissioner closed the matter. Even aunt, I think, was in doubt how it might end, until the very last sentence, and then—although I did not approve of the sentiment—I could not help a touch of sympathy with a man near me who shouted excitedly, “You have saved your soul, commissioner!”
Such excitement! People shook hands and cried and—the slave had disappeared! No one saw him go, no one seemed to know where he went, but aunt whispered to me that it was all right, he was taken in charge by a friend and would be immediately out of harm’s way. I think it was an hour before we could get down to the street, so thronged was the staircase, and everyone seemed happy over the result.
I am inclined to think my mind dwelt as much on the awful responsibility of the commissioner as upon the released man. How can one bind himself by an oath to serve a government that has made this iniquitous bond with the slaveholders? I almost hope to learn later that this dreadful experience has led to the resignation of Commissioner L.
There was one other thing, mother dear, that gave me great joy. In the midst of the enthusiasm, someone seized my hand. I was not astonished at the movement for every heart seemed to be throbbing with sympathy and brother love, but I assure thee I was very happy when I lifted my eyes and saw bending over me the familiar face of Edward H.! What a fine face it is! And on this occasion burning with newborn devotion to principle! It is needless to say that he has since been to visit us, and that he is going to return to Pennsylvania during the summer and has kindly responded to my invitation to come to our home.
Thee cannot help loving him, I know, nor can dear father either, and you will both rejoice that—for Edward has so expressed it—through your simple Sallie’s teaching a strong man has been led to see the enormity of our national sin, and pledged himself to leave no stone unturned toward its abolishment.
In firm affection, I remain
Thy Daughter.
N. B.—I think perhaps I ought to tell thee about a letter I have recently had from F. A. A kind letter, but with a tone of flattery that I do not quite like, nor, indeed, understand. He speaks as if I was much in his thought and—can it be, dear mother, that I gave him a wrong impression of my friendship? My cheeks burn as I write this, but it is delightful to know good Edward H. was thoroughly inspired—through my mere suggestion that these are serious times—to do a great deal of honest thinking. I shall be right glad to welcome him within our home!