Extract of a letter from a highly intelligent friend at the South:
‘You may expect me in Boston early in the spring. I am sick of the South. The more I see of it, the more I dislike it. There is nothing here worth living for. There is nothing but wrong, and oppression, and depravity, which must be witnessed in silence, or extolled as virtues! The most awful judgments of Heaven hang over this land! These people have, ere long, a dread account to settle for their violations of the righteous laws of God! I will tell you all when I get back. I have been obliged to burn my journal, and have nothing but memory to depend upon for retaining such facts as are worth preserving.’
Liberator, March 1, 1839, pg 3)
