I started in the spring of 1855 to ride on horseback through Missouri; but was soon made to feel that there were more things in this world than were known in my philosophy.  I had determined to remain over Sunday in Linnville, Linn County, Missouri, the county-seat of the county, as here was a congregation of Disciples; and called on a merchant of the place, who had been mentioned as one of the leading members.  He remarked that he had become acquainted with me through the Christian Evangelist, published by Bro.  Bates, in Iowa; but, on learning my destination, seemed strangely oblivious that anything more should be due from him to me.  And so, having waited patiently about for a goodly time, I mounted my horse and rode on till dark; then seeing a light, and having called at the house, I found an old man who kindly received and lodged me.  In the morning it appeared that his house was surrounded by negro cabins.  Having inquired my destination, he began to talk to me concerning the subject that seemed to be in every man’s heart.  I replied, submitting to him such views as were held by a majority of Northern men.  To my surprise he flared up in anger, and said: 

“If you talk that way when you get to Kansas you will never come back again; they will hang you.”

The thing was so absurd I only laughed in the old man’s face, and said to him: 

“Well, you can not teach an old dog new tricks.  I have spoken my mind so long that I shall continue to do it if they do hang me,” and so bade him good-bye.

It was Sunday morning, and it was eighteen miles to Chillicothe.  Arriving at the hotel, the people were getting ready for meeting.  On questioning them where they were going, the landlord replied: 

“To the Christian Church.  Will you not go along with us?”

On asking my name he said: 

“O yes; I have seen your name in the Christian Evangelist. You have been preaching in Illinois.  I will introduce you to our preacher, and we will make an appointment for you this afternoon.”

This landlord was a brother to that Congressman Graves that shot Cilley, a member of Congress from Maine, in a duel with rifles, at Washington.  The people described “mine host” as one of “fighting stock “; and spoke of him as being as thoughtful of the comfort, health and welfare of his slaves as of his own children.  To me he seemed simply a genial, jovial, friendly and traditional “Boniface,” chiefly intent on furnishing comfortable fare and an enjoyable place for his guest.

By the members of the Christian Church I was kindly received, and was invited to take dinner with the preacher.  After dinner two brethren came in, to whom I had been introduced at the meeting-house.  After some desultory talk, they asked me: 

“Are you an abolitionist?”