lightning flashed out the premeditated and legal lie,—"it is levying war!" What offence it was in that Fourth One who walked with the Hebrew children, "making their good confession," and sustained the old Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, I know not. But the modern countrymen of the African Shadrach, charged with some great crime, were haled into this court to be punished for their humanity! I came to look on these modern Angels of the Deliverance, to hear counsel of Mr. Dana, then so wise and humane, and to listen to the masterly eloquence which broke out from the great human heart of my friend, Mr. Hale, and rolled like the Mississippi, in its width, its depth, its beauty, and its continuous and unconquerable strength.

4. The fourth time, a poor man had been kidnapped, also at night, and forced into the same illegal jail. He sat in the dock—an innocent man, to be made into a beast. The metamorphosis had begun;—he was already in chains and his human heart seemed dead in him; sixty ruffians were about him, aiding in this drama, hired out of the brothels and rum-shops for a few days, the lust of kidnapping serving to vary the continual glut of those other and less brutal appetites of unbridled flesh. While that "trial" lasted, whoredom had a Sabbath day, and brawlers rested from their toil. Opposite sat the Boston Judge of Probate, and the Boston District Attorney,—the Moses and Elias of this inverted transfiguration; there sat the marshal, two "gentlemen" from Virginia, claiming that a Boston man was their beast of burthen, owing service and labor in Richmond; two "lawyers," "members of the Suffolk bar," pistols in their coats, came to support the allegation and enforce the claim. Honorable men stood up to defend him. There is one of them,—to defend me [Charles M. Ellis.] You know very well the rest of that sad story,—the mock trial of Anthony Burns lasted from May 25th till June 2d. I was here in all the acts of that Tragedy. My own life was threatened; friend and foe gave me public or anonymous warning. I sat between men who had newly sworn to kill me, my garments touching theirs. The malaria of their rum and tobacco was an offence in my face. I saw their weapons, and laughed as I looked those drunken rowdies in their coward eye. They touch me!

5. The fifth time I came here at the summons of an officer of this court,—very politely delivered, let me say it to his credit,—indicted and arrested for a "misdemeanor." I gave bail and withdrew.

6. The sixth time,—Gentlemen,—it is the present, whereof I shall erelong have much to say.

At the first visit I found only scholarly and philanthropic gentlemen, coming out of sympathy with a Polish exile, a defeated soldier of freedom, from his broken English to learn sound Roman Law. On each of the other visits I have been in quite different company. I have invariably met this Honorable Court, its kinsfolk and its most intimate friends,—some member of the family of the distinguished Judge, now fitly presiding over this trial.

1. It was Mr. George T. Curtis, the only brother of the honorable Justice now on the bench,—born of the same mother and father,—who had the glory of kidnapping Mr. Sims; it was he who seized Shadrach, and gave such witness against one of the Angels of the Deliverance, and then came back and enlarged his testimony; it was he who declared the rescue an act of "treason;" he who hung the court house in chains, and brought down the pliant neck of the Massachusetts Judges beneath that symbolic line of linked fetters long drawn out. To what weak forces will such necks bow when slavery commands!

2. It was the honorable Judge now on the distinguished bench who tried men for the rescue of Shadrach. How he tried them is well known.

3. It was Edward G. Loring, another of this family so distinguished, who kidnapped Mr. Burns and held him in irons; he whose broom swept up together the marshal's guard; he who advised Mr. Burns's counsel to make no defence,—"put no obstructions in the way of his going back, as he probably will;" he who, in the darkness of midnight, sought to sell his victim, before he had examined the evidence which might prove him a free man; he who delivered him up as a slave, against evidence as against law.

4. Another of the same family, William W. Greenough, brother-in-law of Hon. Judge Curtis, was one of the grand-jury which found the indictment against me, and "the most active of all in that work."

5. When I came here on the 29th of last November, the Hon. Judge Curtis sat on the bench and determined the amount of my bail, and the same eye which had frowned with such baleful aspect on the rescuers of Shadrach, quailed down underneath my look and sought the ground.

In thus mentioning my former visits to the court, I but relate the exploits of the Hon. Justice Curtis, of his kinsfolk and friends, adding to their glory and their renown. Their chief title to distinction rests on their devotion to the fugitive slave bill. It and their honor are "one and inseparable." Once only humanity and good letters brought me here, I met only scholars and philanthropists; on five other occasions, when assaults on freedom compelled my attendance, I have been confronted and surrounded with the loyalty of the distinguished Judge and his kinsfolk and friends, valiantly and disinterestedly obeying the fugitive slave bill "with alacrity;" patriotically conquering their prejudices against man-stealing—if such they ever had;—and earning for themselves an undying reputation by "saving the Union" from Justice, Domestic Tranquillity, general Welfare, and the Blessings of Liberty.

If I am to be arraigned for any act, I regard it as a special good fortune that I am charged with such deeds, with seeking to arouse the noblest emotions of Human Nature; and by means of the grandest Ideas which Human History has brought to light. I could not have chosen nobler deeds in a life now stretching over nearly half a hundred years. I count it an honor to be tried for them. Nay, it adds to my happiness to look at the Court which is to try me—for if I were to search all Christendom through, nay, throughout all Heathendom, I know of no tribunal fitter to try a man for such deeds as I have done. I am fortunate in the charges brought; thrice fortunate in the judges and the attorney,—the Court which is to decide;—its history and character are already a judgment.

6. For my sixth visit, I was recognized to appear on the fifth of March, 1855—the eighty-fifth anniversary of the Boston Massacre. I might have been bound over to any other of the great days of American history—22d of December, 19th of April, 17th of June, or the 4th of July. But as I am the first American ever brought to trial for a speech in Faneuil Hall against kidnapping; as I am the first to be tried under the act of 1790 for "obstructing an officer" with an argument, committing a "misdemeanor" by a word which appeals to the natural justice of mankind, so there could not perhaps be a fitter time chosen. For on the fifth of March, 1770, British despotism also delivered its first shot into the American bosom. Not far from this place the hand of George III. wounded to death five innocent citizens of Boston,—one of them a negro. It was the first shot Britain ever fired into the body of the American people, then colonial subjects of the king-power. That day the fire was not returned,—only with ringing of bells and tumult of the public, with words and resolutions. The next day that American blood lay frozen in the street. Soon after the British government passed a law exempting all who should aid an officer in his tyranny from trial for murder in the place where they should commit their crime. Mr. Toucey has humbly copied that precedent of despotism. It was very proper that the new tyranny growing up here, should select that anniversary to