The love of freedom is one of those natural impulses of the human breast which cannot be extinguished.  Even the brute animals of the creation feel and show sorrow and affection when deprived of their liberty.  Therefore is a distinguished writer justified in saying, “Man is free, even were he born in chains.”  The Americans boast, and justly, too, that Washington was the hero and model patriot of the American Revolution—­the man whose fame, unequalled in his own day and country, will descend to the end of time, the pride and honour of humanity.  The American speaks with pride of the battles of Lexington and Bunker Hill; and when standing in Faneuil Hall, he points to the portraits of Otis, Adams, Hancock, Quincy, Warren, and Franklin, and tells you that their names will go down to posterity among the world’s most devoted and patriotic friends of human liberty.

It was on the first of August, 1851, that a number of men, fugitives from that boasted land of freedom, assembled at the Hall of Commerce in the City of London, for the purpose of laying their wrongs before the British nation, and at the same time, to give thanks to the God of Freedom for the liberation of their West India brethren, on the first of August, 1834.  Little notice had been given of the intended meeting, yet it seemed to be known in all parts of the city.  At the hour of half-past seven, for which the meeting had been called, the spacious hall was well filled, and the fugitives, followed by some of the most noted English Abolitionists, entered the hall, amid the most deafening applause, and took their seats on the platform.  The appearance of the great hall at this juncture was most splendid.  Besides the committee of fugitives, on the platform there were a number of the oldest and most devoted of the Slave’s friends.  On the left of the chair sat Geo. Thompson, Esq., M.P.; near him was the Rev. Jabez Burns, D.D.; and by his side the Rev. John Stevenson, M.A., Wm. Farmer, Esq., R. Smith, Esq.; while on the other side were the Rev. Edward Mathews, John Cunliff, Esq., Andrew Paton, Esq., J.P.  Edwards, Esq., and a number of coloured gentlemen from the West Indies.  The body of the hall was not without its distinguished guests.  The Chapmans and Westons of Boston, U.S., were there.  The Estlins and Tribes had come all the way from Bristol to attend the great meeting.  The Patons of Glasgow had delayed their departure, so as to be present.  The Massies had come in from Upper Clapton.  Not far from the platform sat Sir Francis Knowles, Bart., still farther back was Samuel Bowly, Esq., while near the door were to be seen the greatest critic of the age, and England’s best living poet.  Macaulay had laid aside the pen, entered the hall, and was standing near the central door, while not far from the historian stood the newly-appointed Poet Laureat.  The author of “In Memoriam” had been swept in by the crowd, and was standing with his arms folded, and beholding for the first time (and probably the last) so large a number of coloured men in one room.  In different parts of the hall were men and women from nearly all parts of the kingdom, besides a large number who, drawn to London by the Exhibition, had come in to see and hear these oppressed people plead their own cause.