"Who now shall go forth to argue our cause in public," he sadly asked, "with subtle sophists and insolent scoffers ?" little dreaming that there was then approaching him out of the all-hail hereafter a greater in these identical respects than George Thompson, indisputably great as he was.
It was a blessed refuge to Garrison, the Benson homestead of Brooklyn, termed Friendship's Valley.

Hunted as a partridge by his enemies here he found the quiet, and sympathy, and the right royal welcome and affection for which his heart panted amidst the dust, and din, and dangers of the crusade against slavery.

But grateful as were the domestic sweets of Friendship's Valley, his was altogether too militant and masterful a spirit to yield himself without a struggle to the repose which it offered.

He did not at all relish the idea of being a forced exile from Boston, of being obliged to edit the _Liberator_ at such long range.

But his friends urged him to submit to the one, and do the other, both on grounds of economy and common prudence.