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 master, Mr. Marshall of Kentucky, insisted that he should be “silenced." Ominous word! full of suggestion to the bludgeonbearers of Slavery. But the great representative of Freedom stood firm. Meanwhile Slavery assumed more and more the port of the giant Maul in the Pilgrim's Progress, who continued with his club breaking the skulls of pilgrims, until he was slain by Mr. Great Heart, making way for the other Pilgrims, Mr. Valiant for Truth, Mr. Standfast, and Mr. Honest.

Next to John Quincy Adams, no person in Congress has been more conspicuous for long-continued and patriotic services against Slavery, than Joshua R. Giddings, of Ohio; nor have any such services received in higher degree that homage which is found in the personal and most vindictive assaults of Slavemasters. Jor nearly twenty years he sat in the House of Representatives, bearing his testimony always loftily, and never shrinking, though exposed to the grossest brutality. In a recent public address at New-York, he has himself recounted some of these instances.

On the presentation by him cf resolutions affirming that Slavery was a local institution, and could not exist outside of the Slave States, and applying this principle to the case of the Creole, the House “caught" the South-Carolina fever. A proposition censuring him was introduced by Slave-masters and pressed to a vote, under the operation of the previous question, without giving him a moment for explanation or reply. This glaring outrage upon freedom of debate was redressed at once by the constituency of Mr. Giddings, who returned him again to his seat. From that time the rage of the Slave-masters against him was constant. Here is his own brief account:

“I will not speak of the time when Dawson, of Louisiana, drew a bowie-knife for my assassination. I was afterward speaking with regard to a certain transaction in which negroes were concerned in Georgia, when Mr. Black, of Georgia, raising his bludgeon, and standing in front of my seat, said to me: ‘If you repeat that language again, I will knock you down.' It was a solemn moment for me. I had never been knocked down, and having some curiosity upon that subject, I repeated the language. Then Mr. Dawson, of Louisiana, the same who had drawn the bowie-knife, placed his hand in his pocket and said, with an oath which I will not repeat, that he would shoot me, at the same time cocking the pistol, so that all around me could hear it click."

Listening to these horrors, ancient stories of Barbarism seem all outdone; and the “viper broth," which was a favorite decoction in a barbarous age, seems to have become the daily