thereupon notified Lundy to draw upon him for one hundred dollars if that amount would give the young editor his liberty.  The fine and costs of court were accordingly paid and just forty-nine days after entering Baltimore jail a prisoner, Garrison recovered his freedom.  The civil action of Todd against him was still pending.  Nothing daunted Garrison went North two days after his discharge to obtain certain evidence deemed important by his counsel to his defence.  He took with him an open letter from Lundy looking to the renewal of the weekly Genius under their joint control.  Prior to Garrison’s trial the paper had fallen into great stress for want of money.  Lundy and he had made a division of their labors, the latter doing the editorial and office work, while the former traveled from place to place soliciting subscriptions and collecting generally the sinews of war.  But the experiment was not successful from a business standpoint.  For as Garrison playfully observed subsequently:  “Where friend Lundy could get one new subscriber, I could knock a dozen off, and I did so.  It was the old experiment of the frog in the well, that went two feet up and fell three feet back, at every jump.”  Where the income of the paper did not exceed fifty dollars in four months and the weekly expenditure amounted to at least that sum, the financial failure of the enterprise was inevitable.  This unhappy event did actually occur six weeks before the junior editor went to jail; and the partnership was formally dissolved in the issue of the Genius of March 5, 1830.  But when Arthur Tappan made his generous offer of a hundred dollars to effect Garrison’s release, he made at the same time an offer of an equal amount to aid the editors in reestablishing the Genius.  This proposition led to hopes on the part of the two friends to a renewal of their partnership in the cause of emancipation.  And so Garrison’s visit to the North was taken advantage of to test the disposition of Northern philanthropy to support such a paper.  But what he found was a sad lack of interest in the slave.  Everywhere he went he encountered what appeared to him to be the most monstrous indifference and apathy on the subject.  The prejudices of the free States seemed to him stronger than were those of the South.  Instead of receiving aid and encouragement to continue the good work of himself and coadjutor, and for the doing of which he had served a term of seven weeks in prison, men, even his best friends sought to influence him to give it up, and to persuade him to forsake the slave, and to turn his time and talents to safer and more profitable enterprises nearer home.  He was informed by these worldly wise men and Job’s counselors that his “scheme was visionary, fanatical, unattainable.”  “Why should he make himself,” they argued, “an exile from home and all that he held dear on earth, and sojourn in a strange land, among enemies whose hearts were dead to every noble sentiment?”