Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1867-07-18

laws" and that patriotic people were
about to choke his further utterance by
hanging him to the next lamp post. The
bareheaded man was William Lloyd
Garrison the young lawyer was Wen
dell Phillips-the Moses and Aaron Of
the great revolution, whose last wave,
let us hope, has now swept over the
country.
Garrison was rescued from a lamp post,
and went home to ponder upon 1.-THE
situation" OF aristocratic lineage, and
reared in wealth, there was nothing in
his birth or surroundings TO incline him
to any great sympathy with the "down
trodden Masses" particularly with the
black masses of whose condition he had
no personal knowledge. However, he
made the acquaintance of Garrison, and
within year, Mt the sacrifice of friends,
legal standing, and social position, he
enrolled himself in the ranks of abolition.
Two years later, on the 8th of Decem-
Der, 1887, this same mob came together
again i'm the cradle Of liberty, to put down
a handful of abolitionists who had con-
vened there to denounce the killing of
Lovejoy by the patriotic people" of Al
ton, Illinois, and this same young law
yer-Phillips-was among them. Jostled
by the crowd, which filled every square
inch of standing room in the great build
ing, he quietly listened to the reading of
a series of resolutions, drawn by William
Emery, charming, and expressing his
own sentiments, but probably not those
of a hundred other men in all that vast
assemblage.
The reading over, a storm of Kisses
swept through the house, and, in the
midst of the storm, the Attorney Gen.
eral of Massachusetts,, mounted the plat
form and began to denounce the resolu-
tions. They were incendiary, they were
reasonable, and the Alton rioters were
a patriot band, like the "orderly mob"
who in 1773, threw the tea overheard in
the harbor of Boston.
Phillips had never spoken in public !;
but an irrepressible fire burning within
him, he elbowed his way through the
vast throng, and clambered up the steps
of the platform. There, standing face
to face with the infuriated crowd, that
might at any moment tear him limb
from limb, he poured forth torrent of
indignant eloquence which silenced the
Attorney-General and carried the reso-
lutions Such is the magic of this mans
tongue; such the wonderful power by
which in moment he can change a
crowd of orderly Conservatives" into
as many "howling Radicals"
This was the first brand that Phillips
threw upon the great bonfire that was to
be eXtinguished only in the blood of half
a million of freemen. Since then he has
been the leader of the army of agitators,
and, like the great gray horse which
Rosecrans used to ride in West Virginia,
however rapid has been the march, he
has always managed to keep length
ahead of the rest of the battalion.
Mr. Phillips lives in modest brick
house, which stands on Essex street, at
the head of Harrison avenue, in Boston.
Its next door neighbor is a retail provi-
sion store, and there is nothing about its
coat of plain red to indicate that it is the
home of man worth half Million
But it is. Here he lives all the year, ex-
cept during few months in summer,
when he is away at the seaside.
Entering the house we are shown up a
plain stairway and into the parlor-a
modest apartment in the second story
1t is not more than twenty feet square,
and the whole house is not over twenty
five by forty, but it is large enough for
this man, for his wife and a couple of
female servants comprises the whole of
his family. Glancing around the room
we notice a modest carpet on the floor, a
half dozen paintings ON the walls, and
set about in appropriate places, few
chairs, a center table, and a large sofa,
all of mahogany and all covered with
hair-cloth, and totally destitute of carv-
ing. There is nothing here that might
not be found in the house of any third
rate author.
But the door opens, and we are hand
in-hand with the great agitator. We are
not his political friends, and he knows
it but his greeting is as cordial as If, for
hoI oil Il in,
his devious wanderings. We sit down
in the great armchair and he throws
himself upon the sofa, his arm over its
back, and one leg extended in hori-
Zontal direction but before he does this,
we observe that he stands about five feet
ten inches in his slippers, stoops consid-
erably, and that his fifty-six years have
deepened the lines about his mouth and
enlarged the bald spot, that, like a patch
of snow on mountain top, caps his
great, high forehead.
Making no apology for his old linen
coat, his rumpled shirt, and soiled dingy-
drab pantaloons, he plunges at once into
conversation. "Where have you been
this long while ?" he asks; ''in New
York, or Washington ?'
Perhaps we have been there, perhaps
farther away, "away down South in
Dixie" But we tell him wherever it
was, being careful to give him facts, and
not opinions, for his great eye is on us,
and we know he has way of forming
his own conclusions. At last, however,
something like thought of our own
does slip out, and then he stops and
with peculiar smile and gesture that
says, ~ am sorry we don't agree" he
remarks, "There you are wrong, 1 an
swered that in my last speech-have you
read it?
Eyes, and were not convinced; but
you always run thing into the ground,
would make more friends if you would
use little more moderation" r.. go
We speak with great freedom we are
encouraged to do so by his very frank
and kindly, manner and he answers
even more cordially, 81 don't agree with
you, TO get small slice we must ask for
the whole loaf"
'i "Well, you might at least ask for it
respectfully" we remark, smiling, but
speaking even more plainly. We know
him well, and have heard him say that
he never took offense at an honest opin-
ion, expressed however bluntly. Now
he laughs outright. 'You don't know
about that," he says. Nothing will
split a rock but charge of gunpowder."
And this is the secret ofall the person.
a,ities that we see in the speeches. and
public addresses of Mr.. Phillips. While
In nriyate inteycOurse he would not Jse