When the Territory of Kansas applied to the government at Washington for the privilege of adding another star to the national flag—now nearly twenty-five years ago—conflicting interests were involved in the very important question as to whether she should enter the Union as a free or a slave state. Some of the foremost abolitionists of the North were determined that no territory should be added to the Union as a slave state; Southerners were equally resolute that the limits of slavery should no longer be circumscribed; while others, affecting a more moderate temper, offered to leave the settlement of the matter to the people themselves who sought the more extended national relationship. At this time the public mind was in a highly excited condition. The effect of the iniquitous 'Fugitive Slave Law'—passed in a spirit of conciliation towards the South, and for assisting which, by his vote, the illustrious Daniel Webster sacrificed much of his well-earned reputation—had not died away when, in 1852, the statute was suddenly put into practical operation in the city of Boston, and a scene was there enacted which is without a parallel in American history. A negro named Burns having escaped from bondage, settled in Boston, and for some years had earned an honest living as a waiter at hotels and in sundry other occupations in which men of his race were accustomed to be engaged. The Fugitive Slave Law empowered slaveholders to follow runaways into free states and remove them therefrom; and Burns' owner having discovered the fugitive's whereabouts, resolved on the exercise of his newly-acquired rights. Burns was arrested and lodged in jail. The news spread with the speed and effect of an electric shock. The whole city was moved. With youthful ardour many of the students of Harvard College (located at the neighbouring suburb of Cambridge) assailed the prison, with a view to the forcible liberation of the captive. So quickly had the riot assumed a portentous aspect, that a large force of police and soldiery was called into requisition to quell the disturbance. The representatives of the law succeeded in at once restoring peace and in placing in custody many of the students and other citizens who had attempted, though in vain, to render a humane service to an oppressed fellow-creature.

The quiet of the following day—Sunday—failed to allay the excitement which had seized the public mind. As the people issued from the various places of worship the proceedings of the previous day formed the general theme of conversation; groups of eager citizens were to be seen here and there discussing the outrage which had been perpetrated in the very 'cradle of liberty' itself.

Those who had been placed under arrest were, however, liberated shortly afterwards; and so soon as the necessary legal preliminaries were settled, arrangements were made for the transfer of the negro to his owner. Early on the morning of his removal, the streets in the neighbourhood of the jail were strictly closed against all traffic, by ropes, guarded by police, traversing their approaches. A cannon was placed in position on the court-house steps; and, still further to secure the captive against any probable attempt at rescue on the part of the populace, the police, supported by cavalry in the rear with drawn sabres, lined the thoroughfares through which he had to walk to the harbour, where a vessel was in readiness to convey him southwards. To add significance to this extraordinary scene, a coffin was suspended in mid-air on ropes running diagonally from the upper windows of the four corners of Washington Street, where it is intersected by School Street on the west and State Street on the east—the avenues through which Burns would pass—and most of the buildings in this locality were draped in mourning. Such space as was available for spectators was filled to overflowing with expectant citizens. The surging masses swayed to and fro with excitement; and when the slave appeared in charge of the officials, the murmured execrations of an indignant but law-observing multitude arose as incense. The ship lying in the harbour received him on board, and a fair wind soon wafted him beyond the reach of any manifestation of Northern sympathy.

Such, then, was the state of public or, rather, Northern feeling when Kansas, as already stated, applied for admission into the Union. The slaveholders of the South, and all in sympathy with them, adopted measures for influencing and, indeed, of controlling public opinion in Kansas on this great question; and to achieve this end, mercenary agents were employed to foster such 'slave' proclivities as might be apparent, and to instil them into the minds of the people, if their political sentiments were found to be tinged with 'free' tendencies. Not only was this virtually acknowledged, but it was discovered that preparations had been made for the exercise of physical force if need be. The Northerners, and more especially the abolitionists of the New England States, impelled by a righteous impulse to neutralise, as far as lay in their power, every unscrupulous endeavour to extend slave territory, sent arms to the inhabitants, to enable them to meet force with force. Jealousy of political ascendency culminated in aggressive measures being adopted by the pro-slavery party. Espionage, with its attendant evils, was organised: men were tarred and feathered, and ridden on a rail or lynched, until the 'border warfare' was an acknowledged fact.

At this juncture, a literary gentleman named S——, strongly imbued with Northern zeal, but lacking the discretion which should accompany every important and worthy undertaking, decided on venturing into the midst of the disturbance, for the purpose of advocating anti-slavery principles by establishing an 'abolition' newspaper. He took a printing-press, type, paper, and such appliances as were required. His wife, not deterred by the length of the journey or the dangers which attended it, insisted on accompanying him on his perilous enterprise. After a journey of about one thousand five hundred miles, he settled near Fort Leavenworth, not far from the Missouri river, and soon completed his arrangements for starting his paper. Considering his surroundings, it was not likely that any great length of time would elapse before he acquired a reputation as a dangerous political intruder. His first issue startled the people immensely; but whether his anti-slavery vagaries, as they were considered, should be resented, or laughed at as an evidence of playful temerity, was for the moment a moot-point. The times, however, were not laughing times, and he was speedily a marked man. Intimations were conveyed to him by the process known as 'underground' that he had better relinquish his undertaking and hurry home to the east; and that in the event of his non-compliance with these hints, he would be waited upon by certain parties who made such matters their special vocation. In spite of these warnings, he continued to publish his unsavoury journal.

Amongst those who assumed the surveillance and guardianship of the public weal, political and moral, was one Dick M——. Dick was reputed to have been of respectable parentage, and to have spent his early days in peaceful circles; but the allurements of a desperado's life charmed him away to the sphere of action in which he was now engaged. His belt was amply supplied with the means of offence or defence, just as his 'appurtenances' might be required; and whether accompanied in his inquisitorial migrations by his followers or not, never failed to make his presence felt. In short, Dick was one of the most daring and blood-thirsty ruffians that could be encountered, and wherever he presented himself, dismay was widespread.

Very early one morning, as S—— was printing his paper preparatory to its distribution, his office door was opened and several men entered. The ceremony of a formal introduction was dispensed with; his printing-press was smashed, his property destroyed, and the office itself quickly demolished. Dick—for it was he—and his comrades arrested S——; but his wife was permitted to take leave of her husband on promising to return eastward without delay. The parting, under such circumstances, may readily be imagined; but in the absence of efficient protection to life and property, no reasonable alternative was left; the separation must be.

S—— was speedily marched by his ignominious escort towards the Missouri. It was usual in such cases to 'string up' the delinquent to the first tree the parties met with; but on this occasion it was intended to convey the prisoner to such a place as might enable them to invest their proceedings with more than the customary spectacular effect. Such desperadoes considered it beneath their manly dignity to travel far without refreshment; they therefore soon stopped at a tavern to satisfy their conventional thirst. S—— was placed in an arm-chair at the end of the saloon, while the masters of the situation lounged around the bar. Presently, Dick sauntered up to his captive and entered into conversation with him.

'Wal, stranger,' said Dick, 'I reckon you had better ha' stayed at New York, instead of coming to Kansas with them abolition notions o' yourn; we don't want no abolition out at Kansas.'

'I did not come out here,' S—— mildly answered, 'for the purpose of creating discord, for it already existed; but simply and honestly to promulgate views which, in my conscience, I believe to be right; and I did it because it is right.'

'Wal,' blustered Dick, 'that kind of talk may do away at New York, but I cal'late it won't amount to nothin' out here. I can't believe any man would be sech a fool as to do sech a thing 'cause he believes it right. I don't believe you, nohow.'

'Well,' replied S——, 'if you were a member of a society I belong to, you would believe me.'

'What do you mean, stranger?' asked Dick with an air of wonderment.

S——, conscious of the hopelessness of his position, and fearing almost momentarily to be put to death, ventured: 'If you were a mason'—accompanying the remark with a certain sign usual in such emergencies—' you would believe me.'

To his utter amazement and infinite satisfaction, this chief of villains proved to be a freemason, having joined the fraternity in his reputable days, and fortunately for S——, still respected his obligations.

'Wal, brother, this is a kind o' awkward,' said Dick, in an altered and friendly tone; 'but I reckon I must save you. The boys will be mighty ugly though, when they see how things is. Now, when you hear the steamer whistle as she comes down the river, keep close to me, and follow me on board. I'll lock you in a cabin on deck, and as I know the cap'n, I'll make it all right. But look alive when she comes.'

They had not to wait many minutes before a shrill whistle announced the steamer's arrival. All left the tavern together, Dick marching ahead, and holding S—— by the arm, as if leading an unwilling captive. As these two stepped on the plank thrown out for passengers to walk on from bank to deck, the 'boys' intuitively perceived the state of things, and made a rush towards the plank. Dick was equal to the occasion.

'Now, boys, make tracks!' said he in a tone and manner that made obedience other than impossible. They accordingly withdrew, muttering threats of vengeance at the loss of their prey.

Dick hurried S—— into a deck cabin, and without waiting for any expression of thanks for the service he had rendered, locked the door, and hastened to make all right with the 'cap'n,' according to promise. In a few moments the engines moved, the paddles revolved, and the steamer was under weigh for St Louis. Here S—— disembarked; and again taking steamer for Alton, and thence cars to Cincinnati, was not long in meeting his wife in New York.

S——'s anti-slavery sentiments continued to the last as strong as in his early days, though, having an ever vivid recollection of his visit to the south-west, his utterance on this particular theme grew somewhat feeble. There was one topic, however, on which he waxed eloquent, and that was his gratitude to freemasonry for having, under Providence, preserved him from certain death.