I was both angry and confounded.  I had never in my life made myself conspicuous in this controversy that was going on between North and South, and why should I be insulted with such a question.  I did not answer yes or no, but proceeded to give my views on the subject in general.  They listened and remarked that they did not see anything offensive in such views; then made this apology for their seeming rudeness:  An old man, a preacher, whom they called Father Clark, had come from Pennsylvania to Chillicothe to live with a married daughter, and had said something concerning slavery offensive to the people, and they had called a meeting of the citizens, and he had been driven out of town and ordered never to return.  They had, furthermore, resolved that no abolitionist should thereafter be allowed to preach in the city.  These brethren explained that, as I would be called on and interrogated by a committee, they thought it would be better that this should be done by friends, than that I should be questioned by strangers.

“Are You an Abolitionist?”

I was angry with myself for having consented to preach a sermon after being met with such a question.  But by mine host, Bro.  Graves, I was treated with the most frank and manly courtesy, albeit that he was brother to the man that shot a brother congressman in a duel with rifles.  He seemed to feel like the town clerk at Ephesus:  “What man is there that knoweth not that the city of the Ephesians is a worshiper of the great goddess Diana, and of the image that fell down from Jupiter?  Seeing then that these things can not be spoken against, ye ought to be quiet and do nothing rashly.”

The Hannibal & St. Joseph Railroad was just being located through the city, yet the town was a dead town, though it was surrounded by a fertile and prosperous country.  Bro.  Graves seemed awake to all its advantages, and pressed me to remain, pointing out the rapid advance that must take place in the value of its property.  But I kept thinking of the question:  “Are you an abolitionist?” and bade him farewell.

At nightfall I found myself beyond Gallatin, on the road to St. Joseph.  As there were no hotels I called at a private house and was hospitably received.  This man, on whom I had called, had come from the State of Pennsylvania, and had grown to a prosperous farmer.  There seemed to be no books or newspapers about the house; but he was shrewd and sagacious to a proverb, and was eager to hear from the land of his fathers, and of what was the cause of all this din and clamor and excitement of the people about him.  What was the meaning of the Kansas-Nebraska bill?  What were the intentions of the Black Republicans?  What was the New York Tribune doing, that it should raise such a tumult?  And what were the purposes of the Emigrant Aid Society that it should be such an offense to the people in Missouri?