BY L. MARIA CHILD.

Captain Anthony owned two or three farms on the eastern shore of Maryland, and held about thirty slaves. One of them, a black woman named Betsy, married a free black man named Isaac Baily; and they had a numerous family of children, all of whom were, of course, slaves to Captain Anthony. When she became an old widow she lived in a hut separate from the other slaves, and was principally employed in nursing troops of babies, which her children brought into the world for the benefit of their master. Somewhere about the year 1817, Harriet, the youngest of her five daughters, gave birth to a boy, on whom she bestowed the high-sounding name of Frederick Augustus Washington Baily. As she could not be spared from field-work, baby Frederick joined the band of little slaves that were under his grandmother's care. Her hut was made of logs, with no windows, a clay floor, and a mud chimney. But the children were as well satisfied with it as if it had been a palace. They were too young to know that they were slaves, and they were as happy as little wild animals. They imitated the noises made by cats, dogs, pigs, and barn-yard fowls, and rolled over and over on the ground, laughing at their own fun. If the mud or dust made them uncomfortable, they walked into the river without undressing; for the short tow shirt, which was their only garment, was washed by swimming, and soon dried in the sunshine. There was a wood close by, and it was one of their greatest pleasures to watch the squirrels as they frisked about, or sat on the stumps eating nuts. Near the hut was a well, with its beam placed between the boughs of an old tree, and so well balanced that the children could easily help themselves to water. Down in a valley, not far off, was a water-mill, where people went to get their corn ground. It was capital sport to play at fishing in the mill-pond, with thread lines, and hooks made of bent pins; and they were never tired of seeing the big wheel turn round, throwing off great drops of water that sparkled in the sunshine. They lived mostly on corn mush, which they ate from a big wooden tray, with oyster-shells for spoons. But they were as healthy as little pigs, and enjoyed their coarse food as well.

The greatest of their blessings was their good grandmother, who nursed them kindly and did all she could to make them happy. They loved her dearly; and when she was obliged to leave them for a short time, they greeted her return with merry shouts. She was advanced in years, and the hair that peeped from under the folds of her turban was very gray. But she was remarkably strong for her age, straight in her figure, and quick in her motions. She was very expert at catching fish, and sometimes spent half the day in the water. She also made excellent nets to catch shad and herring; and, as these nets sold extremely well, Captain Anthony still found the old slave profitable. She had the name of being born to good luck, because whatever business she undertook prospered in her hands. She raised such excellent sweet potatoes that people often sent for her to plant for them, saying, "If Gran'ma Betty touches them they'll be sure to flourish." But the secret of her good luck was her intelligence and carefulness. When she dug potatoes she took pains not to cut or bruise them; and in winter she protected them from frost in a hole under her hearth.

Freddy's poor mother was not allowed the comfort of being with her child. She was let out to work in the fields, twelve miles off. Whenever she went to see her little boy she had to walk over all those miles twice in the night-time, after a hard day's work; for if she was not back in the field by sunrise she was severely whipped. Freddy saw her but four or five times, and never by daylight. Sometimes she would lie down beside him and talk to him till he fell asleep, but when he woke she was always gone. He always remembered that she once took him on her knee and gave him a cake in the shape of a heart. Her rare visits made such an impression on him that he never forgot her personal appearance. She was tall and finely proportioned, with regular features and a deep black glossy complexion. Her manners were very sedate, her countenance downcast, and her eyes very sad. When he was nearly seven years old she died; but he knew nothing about it till long afterward. In later years he heard that she could read, and that she was the only one of all the slaves in the neighborhood who possessed that advantage. He never discovered how she had learned. When she died he was too young to have heard anything from her lips concerning his father. He was always told that he was the son of a white man, and some whispered the name of his master. But he never knew who was his father, and could only conjecture why the eyes of his poor mother had such a sad expression.

Captain Anthony did not carry on any of his own farms. He employed overseers for that purpose; and however cruelly the slaves might be treated by the overseers, they never could obtain any protection by applying to the "old master," as they called him. All the interest he took in them was to have as much work as possible forced out of them, and to sell one every year to add to his income. He himself managed the affairs of Colonel Lloyd, a wealthy gentleman with numerous plantations and a thousand slaves. His home-plantation, on the river Miles, where he resided with his family, was about twelve miles from the hut where Frederick had been nursed. His manager, Captain Anthony, lived in a house on the same plantation, and was personally a stranger to his own little slaves. But the children had seen and heard of things which made the name of the "old master" a terror to them. Frederick's first great trouble was when he discovered that he was a slave, and that, as soon as he was big enough to work, he would have to go to "old master." Nothing could exceed his dread of leaving the dear old home, and being separated from the kind friend of his childhood. When he was about eight years old, Captain Anthony sent for him; but his grandmother kept it a secret, knowing how it would frighten him. One bright summer morning she told him she was going to Colonel Lloyd's plantation, and invited him to go with her. He had a curiosity to see the grand place of which he had heard so much; so she took him by the hand and led him away from the happy home of his childhood, to which he never returned. She carefully concealed from him how her heart was swelling, and her tender ways did not lead him to suspect it. When the unconscious little boy began to be overcome with fatigue she "toted" him on her strong shoulders. She scarcely seemed to feel the burden, and insisted upon carrying him a long way; but he felt too much of a man to permit it. He was, however, a little afraid as they walked through the thick, dark woods; for sometimes the old knotted and gnarled stumps, when seen from a distance, looked like creatures with eyes and legs; and he kept a tight hold of her gown till the monstrous things were safely passed.

It was afternoon before they reached the famous Home Plantation of Colonel Lloyd. There he found everything very different from the solitude and poverty to which he had been accustomed. The plantation seemed like a village, there were so many large houses, and stables, and out-buildings, and mechanics' shops, and such a long row of huts for the "slaves' quarters." Children were shouting and singing, and a great many men and women were hoeing in the fields. The children came crowding round Frederick, and asked him to go and play with them. He looked in his grandmother's face, and seeing that she seemed very sad, he begun to suspect that he was going to live with the "old master." He was unwilling to lose sight of her for a moment; but she patted him on the head, and said, "Be a good boy, and go and play with the children. That one is your brother Perry, that is your sister Sarah, and that is your sister Eliza." He had heard of these brothers and sisters before, but he had never seen them, and they seemed like strangers. He kept close to his grandmother; but at last she persuaded him to follow the children to the back part of the house. He felt so shy that he stood leaning against the wall, looking on, while the others played. After a while, a little boy, who had been left in the kitchen, ran up to him, exclaiming, "Fed! Fed! Grandmammy's gone!" He rushed after her, and when he found that she was gone far out of sight, he threw himself on the ground and sobbed. His brother and sisters brought him peaches and pears, but he flung them away, and continued sobbing, till, overcome with sorrow and fatigue, he fell into a deep sleep.

As Colonel Lloyd's plantation was not near any town, the barrels, wheels, shoes, and cloth that were needed by the numerous slaves were manufactured by themselves. Large crops of grain and tobacco were raised and shipped for Baltimore. All the business of twenty or thirty other farms was transacted at this plantation, which was distinguished by the name of "The Great House Farm"; and as Captain Anthony was overseer of all the overseers, he was kept very busy all the time. He took no notice of Freddy at first, but when told who the newcomer was, he patted him on the head and said, "You are my little Indian boy." Occasionally when he met him he would speak affectionately to him; but he was a violent-tempered man, and Freddy soon learned to watch him closely when he saw him coming. If he was shaking his head or muttering to himself, he hastened to get out of his way, lest he should catch a blow without knowing what it was for. The slave children had no one to care for them but cross Katy, the cook, who cuffed them about, and kept all, except her own children, in such a half-starved condition, that Freddy often had a tussle with the dogs and cats for the bones that were thrown to them. Summer and winter, they had no clothing but a coarse tow shirt that reached to the knees. They were provided with two a year; and if they wore out before allowance-day came round, they went naked. They slept anywhere on the floor without covering. Freddy suffered much from cold. His naked feet were cracked open in great gashes in the winter. When he could get a chance, he would creep into the meal-bag at night. So much for the care taken of their bodies; and it fared no better with their souls. All the instruction they received was from Uncle Isaac, a crippled slave, who, being unable to work, taught the children to say the Lord's Prayer after him by rote, and switched them whenever they made a mistake.

But Freddy was at an age to bear privations and troubles lightly, and to enjoy thoughtlessly whatever pleasant things came in his way. He had never seen anything so grand as The Great House, in which Colonel Lloyd resided. It was a large white building, with piazza and columns in front, surrounded by arbors, and grain-houses, and turkey-houses, and pigeon-houses, interspersed with grand old trees. There was an extensive lawn, kept as smooth as velvet, and ornamented with flowering shrubs. The carriage-road to and from the house made a circle round the lawn, and was paved with white pebbles from the beach. Outside of this enclosed space were extensive parks, where rabbits, deer, and other wild animals frisked about. Flocks of red-winged blackbirds made the trees look gay, and filled the air with melody. Vessels on their way to Baltimore were continually in sight, and a sloop belonging to Colonel Lloyd lay in the river, with its pretty little boat bobbing about in the sparkling water. There was a windmill not far off, and the little slaves were never tired of watching the great wings go whirling round. There was a creek to swim in, and crabs and clams and oysters to be got by wading and digging and raking for them. Freddy was glad enough to catch them when he had a chance, for he never had half enough to eat. He had one friend at The Great House. Daniel Lloyd, the Colonel's youngest son, liked to have him assist in his sports. He protected him when bigger boys wanted to make war upon him, and sometimes he gave him a cake. Captain Anthony's family consisted of a son, Andrew, and a daughter, Lucretia, who had married Captain Thomas Auld. Mrs. Lucretia took a fancy to bright little Freddy. She liked to hear him sing, and often spoke a kind word to him. This emboldened him so much, that when he was very hungry he would go and sing under the window where she sat at work, and she would generally give him a piece of bread, sometimes with butter on it. That was a great treat for a boy who was fed all the time on corn mush, and could not get half enough of that. His business was to clean the front yard, to keep fowls out of the garden, to drive the cows home from pasture, and to run of errands. He had a good deal of time to play with his little relatives, and with the young slaves at Colonel Lloyd's, who called him "Captain Anthony Fed." He was such a mere boy, that it is no wonder so many new people and things soon cured him of homesickness for his grandmother, who could very seldom get time to trudge twelve miles to see him.

But though his slave-life was not without gleams of enjoyment, he saw and heard much that was painful. At one time he would see Colonel Lloyd compel a faithful old slave get down upon his knees to be flogged for not keeping the hair of his horses sufficiently smooth. At another time, the overseer would shoot a slave dead for refusing to come up to be whipped. Ever and anon some of them were sold to Georgia slave-traders, and there was weeping and wailing in the families they left behind. On the premises of his own master, he was not unfrequently wakened in the night by the screams and groans of slaves who were being lashed. One of Captain Anthony's slaves, named Esther, was the sister of Freddy's mother. She had a pretty face and a graceful shape. She and a handsome young slave of Colonel Lloyd's were much attached, and wished to marry. But her old master, for reasons of his own, forbade her to see her lover, and if he suspected them of meeting he would abuse the poor girl in a most shocking manner. Freddy was too young at the time to understand the full significance of this cruel treatment; but when he thought of it in after years, it explained to him why his poor mother had always looked so downcast and sad. As for himself, he managed to escape very severe punishment, though Captain Anthony not unfrequently whipped him for some carelessness or mischief. But when he saw the plantation-laborers, even of so rich a man as Colonel Lloyd, driven out to toil from early morning to dusk, shivering in the cold winds, or dripping with rain, with no covering but a few coarse tow rags, he could not help thinking that such was likely to be his fate when he was older. Young as he was, he had a great dread of being a field-hand. Therefore he was rejoiced when Mrs. Lucretia told him he was to be sent to Baltimore, to live with her husband's brother, Mr. Hugh Auld. She told him if he would make himself very clean, she would give him a pair of new trousers. The prospect of exchanging his little tow shirt for new trousers delighted him so much that he was ready to scrub his skin off to obtain them. He was, moreover, very eager to see Baltimore; for slaves who had been there told fine stories about the grand houses and the multitude of ships. He had been only two years at Captain Anthony's, and he had formed no attachment so strong as that he had felt for his old grandmother. It was with a joyful heart that he went forth to view the wonders of the city. When he arrived in Baltimore, his new mistress met him at the door with a pleasant smile. She said to her son, "There's little Freddy, who has come to take care of you"; and to him she said, "You must be kind to little Tommy." Mrs. Sophia Auld had earned her own living before her marriage, and she had not yet acquired the ways of slaveholders toward servants. While her own little Tommy was on her knee, Freddy was often seated by her side, and sometimes her soft hand would rest upon his head in a kind, motherly way. He had never been treated so since he left his good old grandmother. In a very short time he loved her with all his heart, and was eager to do anything to please her. It was his business to go of errands and take care of Tommy. The boys became as much attached to each other as if they were brothers. There was nothing to remind Freddy of being a slave. He had plenty of wholesome food to eat, clean clothes to wear, and a good straw bed with warm covering. Mrs. Auld was much in the habit of singing hymns and reading the Bible aloud; and Freddy, who was not at all afraid of "Miss Sophy," as he called her, said to her one day that he wished she would teach him to read. She consented; and he was so quick at learning that he was soon able to spell small words. His kind mistress was so much pleased with his progress, that she told her husband about it, and remarked, with much satisfaction, that Freddy would soon be able to read the Bible. Mr. Auld was displeased, and forbade her giving any more lessons. "It is contrary to law to teach a nigger to read," said he. "It is unsafe, and can only lead to mischief. If you teach him to read the Bible, it will make him discontented, and there will be no keeping him. Next thing, he will be wanting to learn to write; and then he'll be running away with himself." This was said in the presence of Freddy, and it set his active mind to thinking. He had often before wondered why black children were born to be slaves; and now he heard his master say that if he learned to read it would spoil him for a slave. He resolved that he would learn to read. He carried a spelling-book in his pocket when he went of errands, and persuaded some of the white boys who played with him to give him a lesson now and then. He was soon able to read. With some money that he earned for himself, he bought a book called "The Columbian Orator." It contained many speeches about liberty. The reading of them made him discontented. He was no longer light-hearted and full of fun. He became thoughtful and serious. When he played with white boys, he would ask, "Why haven't I as good a right to be free, and go where I please, as you have?" And sometimes a generous-hearted boy would answer, "I believe, Fred, you have just as good a right to be free as I have."

He knew that his present situation was uncommonly favorable; but the idea of being a slave for life became more and more hateful to him. He had not been in Baltimore quite four years when an event occurred which proved to him the extreme uncertainty of a slave's condition, even when circumstances seemed the most favorable. His old master, Captain Anthony, died; and his slaves were to be divided between his son Andrew and his daughter Mrs. Lucretia Auld. Frederick was in terror lest it should be decided that he belonged to Andrew, who was a confirmed drunkard, and excessively cruel to the slaves. It was a month before the division of the estate was decided by law; and the anxiety of his mind was so great that it seemed to him half a year. He felt as if saved from sentence of death, when he was informed that he belonged to Mrs. Lucretia, who had been kind to him in his hungry boyhood. As she had no occasion for his services, it was agreed that he should remain in Mr. Hugh Auld's family; a circumstance which pleased Master Tom and his mother about as much as it did Freddy.

But in a short time he was again painfully reminded of the uncertainty of his condition. Mrs. Lucretia and her brother Andrew both died, each of them leaving one child. Neither Captain Anthony nor his children left any of the slaves free. Even Frederick's old grandmother, who had nursed her master when he was a baby, waited upon him through his boyhood, worked faithfully for him during all her life, and reared up a multitude of children and grandchildren to toil for him,—even she was left in Slavery, with no provision made for her. The children she had tended so lovingly were sold, or let out in distant places; all were unable to write to inform her where they had gone; all were unable to help her, because they were not allowed to have their own earnings. When her old master and his children were dead, the owners of the property thought Gran'ma Betty was too old to be of any further use; so they put up a hut with a mud chimney in the woods, and left her there to find food for herself as she could, with no mortal to render her any service in her dying hour. This brutal proceeding increased the bitterness of Frederick's feeling against Slavery.

By the blessing of God the consolations of religion came to him, and enabled him to look beyond this troubled and transitory world. A pious colored man, called Uncle Lawson, became interested in him. They attended prayer-meetings together, and Frederick often went to his house on Sundays. They had refreshing times together, reading the Bible, praying, and singing hymns. Uncle Lawson saw that his young friend had uncommon intelligence, and he often said to him, "The Lord has a great work for you to do, and you must prepare yourself for it." Frederick replied that he did not see how a slave could prepare himself for any great work; but the pious old man always answered, "Trust in the Lord. He will bring it about in his own good time. You must go on reading and studying Scripture." This prophecy inspired him with hope, and he seized every opportunity to improve himself. But he had many obstacles to contend with. His master, Mr. Hugh Auld, was made irritable by an increasing love for brandy. When he found out that Frederick read and spoke at religious meetings, he threatened to flog him if he continued to do it. His kind mistress, who used to pat him on the head and call him "Little Freddy," was changed by the habit of having slaves and talking with slaveholders. The pleasant, motherly expression of her face had become severe. She watched Frederick very closely, and if she caught him with a book or newspaper in his hand, she would rush at him in a great rage and snatch it away. Master Tommy had grown to be a tall lad, and began to feel that he was born to be a master and Fred to be a slave. Frederick would probably have tried to run away, had it not been for the friendships he had formed for Uncle Lawson and the religious young men he met at the meetings. Notwithstanding his master's threat, he contrived to find opportunities to read and pray with good Uncle Lawson; and it had a blessed influence on his spirit, making him feel at peace with all men. Now that he had a taste of knowledge, it was impossible to prevent his getting more. His master sent him of errands to the shipyard almost daily. He noticed that the carpenters marked their boards with letters. He asked the name of the letters, and copied them with a bit of chalk. When the family went from home, he diligently copied from the writing-books Master Tommy had brought from school; and his zeal was so great that in a short time he could write as well as his master. He picked up bits of newspapers wherever he could find them, and he listened attentively when he heard slaveholders talking about the Northern States and cursing the Abolitionists. He did not at first know what was the meaning of "abolitionists"; but when he read in a newspaper that petitions were sent into Congress for the abolition of Slavery, light dawned upon him. He told trustworthy colored friends about it, and they were comforted by the thought that there were people at the North trying to help them out of bondage.

But a new blow fell upon him. Captain Thomas Auld married again, after the death of his wife Mrs. Lucretia, and removed to St. Michael's,—an old village, the principal business of which was oyster fishing. He got into a quarrel with his brother, Mr. Hugh Auld of Baltimore, and demanded that Frederick should be sent back to him. So he was put on board a ship for St. Michael's. When swift steamboats on their way to Philadelphia passed the sloop that carried him, he bitterly regretted that he had not escaped to the Free States from Baltimore, where he could have had so many more opportunities for doing it than he could at the old fishing-village. Captain Thomas Auld and his new wife were both great professors of religion. He was an exhorter and class-leader in the Methodist Church. But their religion was not of a kind that taught them humanity to their fellow-creatures. They worked their slaves very hard, and kept them half fed and half clothed. Scolding and flogging were going on incessantly. Frederick soon discovered that they were violently opposed to colored people's knowing how to read; but when a pious young man in the neighborhood asked him to assist in a Sunday school for colored children, he resolved to seize the opportunity of being useful. When his master found out what he was doing, he was very angry; and the next Sunday he and two other Methodist class-leaders went to the school, armed with clubs and whips, and drove off both teachers and scholars. It was agreed that Frederick had been spoiled by living in Baltimore, and that it was necessary to cure him of his dangerous thirst for knowledge. For that purpose he was sent to a famous "negro-breaker" in the neighborhood named Covey. He was a great professor of religion, but a monster of cruelty. Frederick was almost killed by hard labor, and not a week passed without his being cruelly cut up with the whip. Escape was impossible, for Covey was on the watch at all times of day and night. Six months of such treatment wellnigh crushed all manhood out of him. But cruelty was carried so far that at last he became desperate, and when his master attempted to beat him, he struggled with him and threw him down. He expected to be hung for it, according to the laws of Maryland; but Covey prided himself on his reputation as a "negro-breaker," and he was ashamed to have it known that he had been conquered by a lad of seventeen. Frederick's time was not out for six months longer, but Covey never attempted to whip him again.

The next two years Frederick was let out to do field-work for Mr. Freeland, who fed his slaves well, and never worked them beyond their strength. Some of his slaves were intelligent, and desirous to learn to read. On Sundays they had meetings in the woods, and twenty or thirty young men were taught by Frederick. After a while they formed a plan of escaping in a canoe. But some unknown men excited suspicion against them, and they were seized and thrust into prison. They kept their secrets so well, however, that no proof could be obtained against them, and they were released without even a whipping. But some of the neighboring slaveholders said Frederick was a dangerous fellow; that he knew too much,—they would not have him tampering with their slaves; and if he was not sent out of the neighborhood they would shoot him. Captain Thomas Auld talked of selling him to Alabama; but he finally concluded to let him out again to his brother Hugh, with a promise that if he behaved well he should be free at twenty-five years old.

When he returned to Baltimore he was let out to work at calking vessels; and he soon became so expert at the business that he earned from seven to nine dollars a week. He was trusted to make his own contracts, but was required to pay Mr. Hugh Auld his earnings every Saturday night. On such occasions a sixpence or a shilling was sometimes given him, for which he was expected to be grateful; but it naturally occurred to him that the whole of the money rightfully belonged to him who earned it. He was attached to a worthy girl named Anna, but he was reluctant to form family ties while he was subject to the vicissitudes of Slavery. He often thought of escaping to the Free States, but the regulations were so strict that it seemed a hopeless undertaking, unless he had money. When Captain Thomas Auld visited Baltimore, he tried to make a bargain with him to buy his time for a specified sum each week, being free to earn as much more as he could. The reply was, "You are planning to run away. But, wherever you go, I shall catch you." The master then tried to coax him with promises of freedom in the future; but Frederick thought it very uncertain when they would be willing to give up a man who brought them in nine dollars a week. He concluded to go to the Free States. How he accomplished it he never told, for he was afraid of bringing trouble upon those who helped him.

When he arrived in New York, he says he felt as he should suppose a man would feel who had escaped from a den of hungry lions. But the joyful feeling was soon checked. He met an acquaintance who had recently escaped from Slavery. He told him the city was full of Southerners, who had agents out in every direction to catch runaway slaves; and then he hurried away, as if afraid of being betrayed. This made Frederick feel very desolate. He was afraid to seek employment as a calker, lest spies from his master should be on the watch for him. He bought a loaf of bread, and hid away for the night among some barrels on a wharf. In the morning, he met a sailor, who looked so good-natured and honest that he ventured to tell him he was a fugitive slave, and to ask him for advice. He was not deceived in the expression of the man's face. He invited him to his house, and went in search of Mr. David Ruggles, a worthy colored man, well known as a zealous friend of his oppressed race. The fugitive was kept hidden for a few days, during which time Anna was sent for, and they were married. By help of Mr. Ruggles, employment at calking was obtained in New Bedford, a large town in Massachusetts, where a great many ships are constantly employed. There he found many intelligent colored people, not a few of whom had been slaves. They lived in convenient houses, took newspapers, bought books, and sent their children to good schools. They had various societies for improvement; and when he attended their meetings, he was surprised to hear their spirited discussions on various subjects. His bright mind was roused into full activity by the influences around him. He changed his name to Frederick Douglass. He was called Mr. Douglass now, and felt like it. He worked hard, but that was a pleasure, now that he could enjoy his own earnings. He felt safe; for there were so many Abolitionists and so many intelligent colored people in New Bedford, that slaveholders did not venture to go there to hunt for fugitives. The cruel treatment he had received from hypocritical professors of religion had not destroyed his faith in the excellence of real religion. He joined a church of colored people, called Zion Methodists, and became a class-leader and preacher among them. He took a newspaper called "The Liberator," edited by William Lloyd Garrison, wherein he found the rights of the colored people vindicated with great zeal and ability. His wife proved a neat and industrious helpmate, and a little family of children began to gather round him. Thus furnished with healthy employment for his mind, his heart, and his hands, he lived over three years in New Bedford.

At the end of that period, in the year 1841, a great Anti-Slavery meeting was held in the vicinity, and Mr. Douglass went to hear Mr. Garrison and others speak. He did not suppose that any one in the meeting knew him; but a gentleman was present who had heard him preach in Zion Church, and he went to him and urged him to address the Anti-Slavery meeting. He was bashful about speaking before such a large and intelligent audience; and when he was persuaded to mount the platform he trembled in every limb. But what he said flowed right out from the depths of his heart; and when people of any intelligence speak in that way, they are always eloquent. The audience were greatly moved by what he told them of his experiences. It was the beginning of a great change in his life. The Anti-Slavery Society employed him to travel in the Free States to lecture against Slavery; and that you may be sure he could do with a will. Crowds went to hear him, and his ministration was greatly blessed. The prophecy of good Uncle Lawson was fulfilled. The Lord had a great work for him to do; and in His own good time he had brought it about.

People who were in favor of Slavery said he was an impostor; that he did not look like a slave, or speak like a slave; and that they did not believe he had ever been in the Southern States. To prove that he was not an impostor he wrote and published an account of his life, with the names of his masters and the places where they resided. The book was ably written, and produced almost as great an effect as his lectures. Slaveholders were very angry that one of their escaped chattels should produce such an excitement. There was great danger that some of their agents would kidnap him as he went about the country lecturing. It was therefore concluded that he had better go to England. In 1845 he took passage for Liverpool in the English steamship Cambria. He was invited to deliver a lecture on deck. Some slaveholders from New Orleans and Georgia, who were a little under the influence of brandy, swore they would throw him overboard if he did; but the captain of the vessel threatened to put them in irons if they behaved in a disorderly manner. When they arrived in England they tried to injure Mr. Douglass by publishing that he was an insolent, lying negro; but their efforts only served to make him famous. He delivered a great number of lectures, and attracted crowds everywhere. In the Free States of his own country he had been excluded from many places of improvement, and often insulted on account of his color; but he had no such prejudice to encounter in England. He behaved like a gentleman, and was treated like a gentleman. Many distinguished and wealthy people invited him to their houses, as a mark of respect for his natural abilities and the efforts he had made to improve himself. But he felt that his labors were needed in America, in behalf of his oppressed brethren, and he wanted to return. His friends in England entered into negotiations with Captain Thomas Auld for the purchase of his freedom, which they succeeded in obtaining for little more than seven hundred dollars.

After an absence of two years he returned to the United States a freeman. He established himself with his family in Rochester, New York. There he edited a weekly newspaper, called "The North Star," and from time to time travelled about the country to deliver lectures, which were always fully attended. After he was free he wrote a spirited letter to his old master, Captain Thomas Auld, in which he asks: "What has become of my dear old grandmother, whom you turned out, like an old horse, to die in the woods? If she is still alive, she must be near eighty years old,—too old to be of any service to you. O, she was father and mother to me, so far as hard toil for my comfort could make her so. Send her to me at Rochester, and it shall be the crowning happiness of my life to take care of her in her old age." I never heard that any answer was received to this letter.

During the Rebellion Mr. Douglass labored zealously to raise colored regiments, and one of his sons enlisted in the service of the United States. After the Proclamation of Emancipation he was invited to Baltimore, where he delivered an address before a large audience of respectable citizens. How different was free Maryland from the Slavery-ridden State which he had left, secretly and in terror, nearly thirty years before!