William Lloyd Garrison, The Liberator, January 1, 1831

During my recent tour for the purpose of exciting the minds of the people by a series of discourses on the subject of slavery, every place that I visited gave fresh evidence of the fact, that a greater revolution in public sentiment was to be effected in the free states - and particularly in New-England than at the south. I found contempt more bitter, opposition more active, detraction more relentless, prejudice more stubborn, and apathy more frozen, than among the slave owners themselves. Of course there were individual exceptions to the contrary.

This state of things afflicted, but did not dishearten me. I determined, at every hazard, to lift up the standard of emancipation in the eyes of the nation, within sight of Bunker Hill and in the birth place of liberty. That standard is Now unfurled; and long may it float, unhurt by the spoliations of time or the missiles of a desperate foe - yea, till every chain be broken, and every bondman set free! Let southern oppressors tremble - let their secret abettors tremble - let their northern apologists tremble - Let all the enemies of the persecuted blacks tremble....

I am aware that many object to the severity of my language; but is there not cause for severity? I will be as harsh as truth, and as uncompromising as justice. On this subject, I do not wish to think, or speak, or write, with moderation. No! no! Tell a man whose house is on fire, to give a moderate alarm; . . . tell the mother to gradually extricate her babe from the fire into which it has fallen; - but urge me not to use moderation in a cause like the present. I am in earnest I will not equivocate - I will not excuse - I will not retreat a single inch - AND I WILL BE HEARD....

And here I close with this fresh dedication: "Oppression! I have seen thee, face to face,

And met thy cruel eye and cloudy brow; But thy soul-withering glance I fear not now - For dread to prouder feelings doth give place Of deep abhorrence! Scorning the disgrace Of slavish knees that at thy footstool bow, I also kneel - but with far other bow Do hail thee and thy herd of hirelings base: - I swear, while life-blood warms my throbbing veins, Still to oppose and thwart, with heart and hand Thy brutalizing sway - till Africa's chains Are burst, and Freedom rules the rescued land, Trampling Oppression and his iron rod: Such is the vow I take - SO HELP ME GOD!