"But Providence interposes to prevent the permanent triumph of evil. It interposes, not visibly or by the thunderbolt, but by inspiring and sustaining high moral effort and heroic lives.

"You commenced your crusade against slavery in isolation, in weakness, and in obscurity. The emissaries of authority with difficulty found the office of the Liberator in a mean room, where its editor was aided only by a negro boy, and supported by a few insignificant persons (so the officers termed them) of all colors. You were denounced, persecuted, and hunted down by mobs of wealthy men alarmed for the interests of their class. You were led out by one of these mobs, and saved from their violence and the imminent peril of death, almost by a miracle. You were not turned from your path of devotion to your cause, and to the highest interests of your country, by denunciation, persecution, or the fear of death. You have lived to stand victorious and honored in the very stronghold of slavery; to see the flag of the republic, now truly free, replace the flag of slavery on Fort Sumter; and to proclaim the doctrines of the Liberator in the city, and beside the grave of Calhoun.

"Enemies of war, we most heartily wish, and doubt not that you wish as heartily as we do, that this deliverance could have been wrought out by peaceful means. But the fierce passions engendered by slavery in the slaveowner, determined it otherwise; and we feel at liberty to rejoice, since the struggle was inevitable, that its issue has been the preservation, not the extinction, of all that we hold most dear. We are, however, not more thankful for the victories of freedom in the field than for the moderation and mercy shown by the victors, which have exalted and hallowed their cause and ours in the eyes of all nations.

"We shall now watch with anxious hope the development, amidst the difficulties which still beset the regeneration of the South, of a happier order of things in the States rescued from slavery, and the growth of free communities, in which your name, with the names of your fellow-workers in the same cause, will be held in grateful and lasting remembrance.

"Once more we welcome you to a country in which you will find many sincere admirers and warm friends."

EARL RUSSELL and JOHN STUART MILL, M.P., at the close of the address, followed with most eloquent speeches, conferring on the honored guest the highest praise for his life-long and successful labors in the cause of freedom. After these gentlemen had taken their seats, the Chairman proposed that the address should be passed unanimously.

The Chairman's call was responded to by the whole assemblage lifting up their hands; and Mr. Garrison, presenting himself in front of the platform, was received with an enthusiastic burst of cheering, hats and handkerchiefs being waved by nearly all present.



SPEECH OF MR. GARRISON.



Mr. Garrison said:—Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen,—For this marked expression of your personal respect, and appreciation of my labors in the cause of human freedom, and of your esteem and friendship for the land of my nativity, I offer you, one and all, my grateful acknowledgments. But I am so profoundly impressed by the formidable array of rank, genius, intellect, scholarship, and moral and religious worth which I see before me, that I fear I shall not be able to address you, except with a fluttering pulse and a stammering tongue. For me this is, indeed, an anomalous position. Assuredly, this is treatment with which I have not been familiar. For more than thirty years, I had to look the fierce and unrelenting hostility of my countrymen in the face, with few to cheer me onward. In all the South I was an outlaw, and could not have gone there, though an American citizen guiltless of wrong, and though that flag (here the speaker pointed to the United States ensign) had been over my head, except at the peril of my life; nay, with the certainty of finding a bloody grave. (Hear, hear.) In all the North I was looked upon with hatred and contempt. The whole nation, subjugated to the awful power of slavery, rose up in mobocratic tumult against any and every effort to liberate the millions held in bondage on its soil. And yet I demanded nothing that was not perfectly just and reasonable, in exact accordance with the Declaration of American Independence and the Golden Rule. I was not the enemy of any man living. I cherish no personal enmities; I know nothing of them in my heart. Even whilst the Southern slave-holders were seeking my destruction, I never for a moment entertained any other feeling toward them than an earnest desire, under God, to deliver them from a deadly curse and an awful sin. (Hear, hear.) It was neither a sectional nor a personal matter at all. It had exclusive reference to the eternal law of justice between man and man, and the rights of human nature itself.

Sir, I always found in America that a shower of brickbats had a remarkably tonic effect, materially strengthening to the back-bone. (Laughter.) But, sir, the shower of compliments and applause, which has greeted me on this occasion would assuredly cause my heart to fail me, were it not that this generous reception is only incidentally personal to myself. (Hear, hear.) You, ladies and gentlemen, are here mainly to celebrate the triumph of humanity over its most brutal foes; to rejoice that universal emancipation has at last been proclaimed throughout the United States: and to express, as you have already done through the mouths of the eloquent speakers who have preceded me, sentiments of peace and of good-will toward the American Republic. Sure I am that these sentiments will be heartily reciprocated by my countrymen. (Cheers.)

I must here disclaim, with all sincerity of soul, any special praise for anything that I have done. I have simply tried to maintain the integrity of my soul before God, and to do my duty. (Cheers.) I have refused to go with the multitude to do evil. I have endeavored to save my country from ruin. I have sought to liberate such as were held captive in the house of bondage. But all this I ought to have done.

And now, rejoicing here with you at the marvellous change which has taken place across the Atlantic, I am unable to express the satisfaction I feel in believing that, henceforth, my country will be a mighty power for good in the world. While she held a seventh portion of her vast population in a state of chattelism, it was in vain that she boasted of her democratic principles and her free institutions; ostentatiously holding her Declaration of Independence in one hand, and brutally wielding her slave-driving lash in the other. Marvellous inconsistency and unparalleled assurance. But now, God be praised, she is free, free to advance the cause of liberty throughout the world. (Loud cheers.)

Sir, this is not the first time I have been in England. I have been here three times before on anti-slavery missions; and wherever I traveled, I was always exultantly told, "Slaves cannot breathe in England!" Now, at last, I am at liberty to say, and I came over with the purpose to say it, "Slaves cannot breathe in America!" (Cheers.) And so England and America stand side by side in the cause of negro emancipation; and side by side may they stand in all that is just and noble and good, leading the way gloriously in the world's redemption. (Loud cheers.)

I came to this country for the first time in 1833, to undeceive Wilberforce, Clarkson, and other eminent philanthropists, in regard to the real character, tendency, and object of the American Colonization Society. I am happy to say that I quickly succeeded in doing so. Before leaving, I had the pleasure of receiving a protest against that Society as an obstruction to the cause of freedom throughout the world, and, consequently, as undeserving of British confidence and patronage, signed by William Wilberforce, Thomas Fowell Buxton, Zachary Macaulay, and other illustrious philanthropists. On arriving in London I received a polite invitation by letter from Mr. Buxton to take breakfast with him. Presenting myself at the appointed time, when my name was announced, instead of coming forward promptly to take me by the hand, he scrutinized me from head to foot, and then inquired, somewhat dubiously, "Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr. Garrison, of Boston, in the United States?" "Yes, sir," I replied, "I am he; and I am here in accordance with your invitation." Lifting up his hands he exclaimed, "Why, my dear sir, I thought you were a black man. And I have consequently invited this company of ladies and gentlemen to be present to welcome Mr. Garrison, the black advocate of emancipation from the United States of America." (Laughter.) I have often said, sir, that that is the only compliment I have ever had paid to me that I care to remember or tell of. For Mr. Buxton had somehow or other supposed that no white American could plead for those in bondage as I had done, and therefore I must be black. (Laughter.)

It is indeed true, sir, that I have had no other rule by which to be guided than this. I never cared to know precisely how many stripes were inflicted on the slaves. I never deemed it necessary to go down into the Southern States, if I could have gone, for the purpose of taking the exact dimensions of the slave system. I made it from the start, and always, my own case, thus: Did I want to be a slave? No. Did God make me to be a slave? No. But I am only a man, only one of the human race; and if not created to be a slave, then no other human being was made for that purpose. My wife and children, dearer to me than my heart's blood, were they made for the auction-block? Never! And so it was all very easily settled here (pointing to his breast). (Great cheering.) I could not help being an uncompromising abolitionist.

Here allow me to pay a brief tribute to the American abolitionists. Putting myself entirely out of the question, I believe that in no land, at any time, was there ever a more devoted, self-sacrificing, and uncompromising band of men and women. Nothing can be said to their credit which they do not deserve. With apostolic zeal, they counted nothing dear to them for the sake of the slave, and him dehumanized. But whatever has been achieved through them is all of God, to whom alone is the glory due. Thankful are we all that we have been permitted to live to see this day, for our country's sake, and for the sake of mankind. Of course, we are glad that our reproach is at last taken away; for it is very desirable, if possible, to have the good opinions of our fellow-men; but if, to secure these, we must sell our manhood and sully our souls, then their bad opinions of us are to be coveted instead.

Sir, my special part in this grand struggle was in first unfurling the banner of immediate and unconditional emancipation, and attempting to make a common rally under it. This I did, not in a free State, but in the city of Baltimore, in the slave-holding State of Maryland. It was not long before I was arrested, tried, condemned by a packed jury, and incarcerated in prison for my anti-slavery sentiments. This was in 1830. In 1864 I went to Baltimore for the first time since my imprisonment. I do not think that I could have gone at an earlier period, except at the peril of my life; and then only because the American Government was there in force, holding the rebel elements in subserviency. I was naturally curious to see the old prison again, and, if possible, to get into my old cell; but when I went to the spot, behold! the prison had vanished; and so I was greatly disappointed, (Laughter.) On going to Washington, I mentioned to President Lincoln, the disappointment I had met with. With a smiling countenance and a ready wit, he replied, "So, Mr. Garrison, the difference between 1830 and 1864 appears to be this: in 1830 you could not get out, and in 1864 you could not get in!" (Great laughter.) This was not only wittily said, but it truthfully indicated the wonderful revolution that had taken place in Maryland; for she had adopted the very doctrine for which she imprisoned me, and given immediate and unconditional emancipation to her eighty thousand slaves. (Cheers.)

I commenced the publication of the "Liberator" in Boston, on the 1st of January, 1831. At that time I was very little known, without allies, without means, without subscribers; yet no sooner did that little sheet make its appearance, than the South was thrown into convulsions, as if it had suddenly been invaded by an army with banners! Notwithstanding, the whole country was on the side of the slave power—the Church, the State, all parties, all denominations, ready to do its bidding! O the potency of truth, and the inherent weakness and conscious insecurity of great wrong! Immediately a reward of five thousand dollars was offered for my apprehension, by the State of Georgia. When General Sherman was making his victorious march through that State, it occurred to me, but too late, that I ought to have accompanied him, and in person claimed the reward—(laughter)—but I remembered, that, had I done so, I should have had to take my pay in Confederate currency, and therefore it would not have paid traveling expenses. (Renewed laughter.) Where is Southern Slavery now? (Cheers.) Henceforth, through all coming time, advocates of justice and friends of reform, be not discouraged; for you will, and you must succeed, if you have a righteous cause. No matter at the outset how few may be disposed to rally round the standard you have raised—if you battle unflinchingly and without compromise—if yours be a faith that cannot be shaken, because it is linked to the Eternal Throne—it is only a question of time when victory shall come to reward your toils. Seemingly, no system of iniquity was ever more strongly intrenched, or more sure and absolute in its sway, than that of American Slavery; yet it has perished.

"In the earthquake God has spoken; He has smitten with His thunder The iron walls asunder, And the gates of brass are broken."

So it has been, so it is, so it ever will be throughout the earth, in every conflict for the right. (Great cheering.) * * * * *

Ladies and gentlemen, I began my advocacy of the Anti-slavery cause at the North in the midst of brickbats and rotten eggs. I ended it on the soil of South Carolina, almost literally buried beneath the wreaths and flowers which were heaped upon me by her liberal bondmen. (Cheers.)



LEWIS TAPPAN



Was one of the warmest friends of the slave and of the colored man. He was very solicitous for their welfare, and that the colored people who were free should be enlightened and educated. He opened a Sunday-school for colored adults, which was numerously attended, in West Broadway, New York, and with a few others, devoted the most of the Sabbath to their teaching. When he and his brother Arthur, assembled the seventy anti-slavery agents, who were thereafter, like "firebrands," scattered all over the land, they held their meetings in this room. These agents were entertained by abolitionists in the city, and many of us had two or three of them in each of our families for a couple of weeks. They went out all over the land, and were instrumental in diffusing more truth, perhaps, about the dreadful system of American Slavery, than was accomplished in any other way. He also aided in establishing several periodicals, brimful of anti-slavery truth; among which, were the "Anti-Slavery Record," the "Emancipator," the "Slave's Friend;" the latter, to indoctrinate the children in Anti-slavery. The American Missionary Society, originally begun for the support of a mission in Africa, on the occasion of the return of the Amistad captors to their native land, and now doing so much for the freedmen of the South, was almost entirely established by his efforts. During the continuance of Slavery, much was done by this Society for the diffusion of an anti-slavery gospel.

The "Vigilance Committee," for aiding and befriending fugitives, of which I was treasurer for many years, had no better or warmer friend than he. He was almost always at their meetings, which were known only to "the elect," for we dared not hold them too publicly, as we almost always had some of the travelers toward the "north star" present, whose masters or their agents were frequently in the city, in hot pursuit. At first, we sent them to Canada, but after a while, sent them only to Syracuse, and the centre of the State.

In 1834, I think, was the first rioting, the sacking of Mr. Tappan's house, in Rose Street. The mob brought all his furniture out, and piling it up in the street, set it on fire. The family were absent at the time. Soon after, they stoned Rev. Mr. Ludlow's, and Dr. Cox's church, and the house of the latter. They threatened Arthur Tappan & Co's, store, in Pearl Street, but hearing that there were a few loaded muskets there, they took it out in threats. But their mercantile establishment was almost ostracised at this time, by the dry goods merchants; and country merchants in all parts of the country, north as well as south, did not dare to have it known that they bought goods of them; and when they did so, requested particularly, that the bundles or boxes, should not be marked "from A. Tappan & Co.," as was customary. Southern merchants especially, avoided them, and when, two or three years later, there was a general insolvency among them, occasionally large losses to New York merchants, and in some cases failure; the Tappans were saved by having no Southern debts!

Through Mr. Tappan's influence and extensive correspondence abroad, many remittances came for the help of the "Vigilance Committee," from England and Scotland, and at one time, an extensive invoice of useful and fancy articles, in several large boxes, was received from the Glasgow ladies, sufficient to furnish a large bazaar or fair, which was held in Brooklyn, for the benefit of the Committee.

Although lately afflicted by disease, Mr. Tappan still lives in the enjoyment of all his faculties, and a good measure of health, and in his advanced years, sees now some of the great results of his life-long efforts for the restoration and maintenance of human rights.

Although still suffering under many of the evils which Slavery has inflicted upon him, the American slave no longer exists! Instead stands up in all our Southern States the freedman, knowing his rights, and, as a rule, enjoying them. Original American abolitionists, who met the scorn and odium, the imputed shame and obloquy, the frowns and cold-shoulders which they bore through all the dark days of Slavery, now see and feel their reward in some measure; to be completed only, when they shall hear the plaudit: "Inasmuch as ye have done it to the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."

ANTHONY LANE.

New York, Nov. 8, 1871.

Mr. Lane, Mr. Tappan's personal friend who labored with him in the Anti-Slavery Cause, and especially in the Vigilance Committee for many years, from serious affection of his eyes was not prepared to furnish as full a sketch of his (Mr. T.'s) labors as was desirable. Mr. Tappan was, therefore, requested to furnish a few reminiscences from his own store-house, which he kindly did as follows:

WILLIAM STILL, ESQ., My dear Sir:—In answer to your request, that I would furnish, an article for your forthcoming book, giving incidents within my personal knowledge, relating to the Underground Rail Road; I have already apprized you of my illness and my consequent inability to write such an article as would be worthy of your publication. However, feeling somewhat relieved to-day, from my paralysis, owing to the cheering sunshine and the favor of my Almighty Preserver, I will try to do what I can, in dictating a few anecdotes to my amanuensis, which may afford you and your readers some gratification.

These facts I must give without reference to date, as I will not tax my memory with perhaps a vain attempt to narrate them in order.

As mentioned in my "Life of Arthur Tappan," some abolitionists (myself among the number), doubted the propriety of engaging in such measures as were contemplated by the conductors of the "Underground Rail Road," fearing that they would not be justified in aiding slaves to escape from their masters; but reflection convinced them that it was not only right to assist men in efforts to obtain their liberty, when unjustly held in bondage, but a DUTY.

Abolitionists, white and colored, both in slave and free States, entered into extensive correspondence, set their wits at work to devise various expedients for the relief from bondage and transmission to the free States and to Canada, of many of the most enterprising bondmen and bondwomen. They vied with each other in devising means for the accomplishment of this object. Those who had money contributed it freely, and those who were destitute of money, gave their time, saying with the Apostle: "Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have, give I thee."

1. I recollect that one morning on reaching my office (that of the treasurer of the American Missionary Association), my assistant told me that in the inner room were eighteen fugitives, men, women and children, who had arrived that morning from the South in one company. On going into the room, I saw them lying about on the bales and boxes of clothing destined for our various missionary stations, fatigued, as they doubtless were, after their sleepless and protracted struggle for freedom.

On inquiry, I learned that they had come from a southern city. After most extraordinary efforts, it seemed that they had while in Slavery, secretly banded together, and put themselves under the guidance of an intrepid conductor, whom they had hired to conduct them without the limits of the city, in the evening, when the police force was changed. They came through Pennsylvania and New Jersey to my office. The agent of the Underground Rail Road in New York, took charge of them, and forwarded them to Albany, and by different agencies to Canada.

2. I well remember that one morning as I entered the Sabbath-school,[A] one of the scholars, a Mrs. Mercy Smith, beckoned to me to come to her class, and there introduced to me a young girl of about fifteen, as a fugitive, who had arrived the day before. In answer to my inquiries, this girl told me the name of the southern city, and the names of the persons who had held her as a slave, and the mode of her escape, etc. "I was walking near the water," she said, "when a white sailor spoke to me, and after a few questions, offered to hide me on board his vessel and conduct me safely to New York, if I would come to him in the evening. I did so, and was hid and fed by him, and on landing at New York, he conducted me to Mrs. Smith's house, where I am now staying."

[Footnote A: For three years I superintended a Sabbath-school mostly composed of colored children and adults. Most of the teachers were warm-hearted abolitionists, and the whole number taught in this school during this period, was seven or eight hundred.]

To my inquiry, have you parents living, and also brothers and sisters, she replied: "There is no child but myself." "Were not your parents kind to you, and did you not love them?" "Yes I love them very much."

"How were you treated by your master and mistress?" "They treated me very well." "How then," said I, "could you put yourself in the care of that sailor, who was a stranger to you, and leave your parents?" I shall never forget her heart-felt reply: "He told me I should be free!"

One Sunday morning, I received a letter, informing me that an officer belonging to Savannah, Ga., had started for New York, in pursuit of two young men, of nineteen or twenty, who had been slaves of one of the principal physicians of the place, and who had escaped and were supposed to be in New York. The letter requested me to find them and give them warning. As there was no time to be lost, I concluded to go over to New York, notwithstanding the doubtfulness of attempting to find them in so large a city. I wrote notices to be read in the colored churches and colored Sabbath-schools, which I delivered in person. I then went to the colored school, superintended by Rev. C.B. Bay. I stated my errand to him, with a description of the young men. "Why," said he, "I must have one of them in my school." He took me to a class where I found one of the young men, to whom I gave the needful information.

He told me that his father was Dr. —— of Savannah, and that he had five children by the young man's mother, who was his slave. On his marriage to a white woman, he sent his five colored children and their mother to auction, to be sold for cash to the highest bidder. On being put upon the auction-block, this young man addressed the bystanders, and told them the circumstances of the case; that his mother had long lived in the family of the doctor, that it was cruel to sell her and her children, and he warned the people not to bid for him, for he would no longer be a slave to any man, and if any one bought him, he would lose his money. He added, "I thought it right to say this." I then spoke to the crowd. "My father," said I, "has long been one of your first doctors, and do you think it right for him to sell my mother and his children in this way?"

"I was sold, and my brother also, and the rest, although my brother said to the crowd what I had said. We soon made our escape, and are now both in the city. I am a blacksmith, and have worked six months in one shop, in New York, with white journeymen, not one of whom believes, I suppose, that I am a colored man."

It was not surprising, for so fair was his complexion, that with the aid of a brown wig, after he had cut off his hair, he was completely disguised. He soon notified his brother, who lived in another part of the city, and both put themselves out of harm's way. They were remarkably fine young men, and it seemed a special Providence that I should find them in such a large city, and direct them to escape from their pursuer, within one hour after I left my house in Brooklyn. I felt it to be an answer to prayer.

4. One day, when I lived in New York City, a colored man came running to my house, and in a hurried manner, said: "Is this Mr. Tappan?" On replying in the affirmative, he said: "I have driven my master from Baltimore. He has just arrived, and the servants are taking off the baggage at the Astor House. I inquired of a person passing by, where you lived. He said, 80, White Street, and I have run here, to tell you that you may give notice to a man who has escaped from my master, to this city, that the object of this journey is to find him and take him back to Slavery."

The man hurried back, so that he need not be missed by his master, who believed that this coachman, who had lived years with him, was his confidential servant, and would be true to his interest.

I went immediately to the house of a colored friend, to describe the fugitive and see if we could not concert measures to protect him. "I think," said he, "that I know the man, by your description, and that he boards in this house. He will soon come in from South Street, where he has worked to-day." While we were consulting together, sure enough, the man came in, and was most glad to have the opportunity thus afforded, of secreting himself.

I have not strength to dictate much more, although many other instances occur to me of most remarkable providential occurrences, of the escape of fugitives within my knowledge. I used to say that I was the owner of half-a-horse that was in active service, near the Susquehanna River. This horse I owned jointly with another friend of the slave, dedicating the animal to the service of the Underground Rail Road.

It was customary for the agent at Havre de Grace, bringing a fugitive to the river, to kindle a fire (as it was generally in the night), to give notice to a person living on the opposite side of the river. This person well understood the signal, and would come across in his boat and receive the fugitive.

An aged colored couple, residing in Brooklyn, came over to my office, in New York City, and said that they had just heard from Wilmington, N.C., that their two sons (about twenty-five or twenty-six years of age), who were slaves, were about to be sold, for one thousand dollars each; and they hoped I should be able and willing to assist them in raising the money.

I told them that I had scruples about putting money into the hands of slave-holders, but I would give them something that might be of as much value. I then pointed out a way by which their sons might reach the city.

In about three weeks, one of the young men came to my office. Give me, said I, some particulars of your escape. "I am," said he, "a builder, and planned and erected the hotel at Wilmington, and some other houses. I used to hire my time of my master, and was accustomed to ride about the country attending to my business. I borrowed a pass from a man about my size and complexion. I then went to the rail road office, and asked for a ticket for Fredericksburg. From there I came on directly to Washington. I had not been questioned before; but here, I was taken up and carried before a magistrate. He examined me by the description in my pass; complexion, height, etc., then read 'and a scar under his left knee.' When I heard that, my heart sank within me; for I had no scar there that I knew. 'Pull up the boy's trowsers,' said the justice to the constable. He did so. and said 'here's a scar!' 'All right,' said the justice, 'no mistake, let him go.' Glad was I. I got a ticket for Baltimore, and there for another town, and finally reached here."

You asked me to give an account of the sums that I have expended for the Underground Rail Road, etc. I must be excused from doing this, as if I could now ascertain, I should not think it worth while to mention. I must now conclude my narrative, by giving, with some additions, an account of an interesting escape from Slavery, which was written by my wife, more than fifteen years ago, for Frederic Douglass' paper.

[On page 177 the narrative of "The Fleeing Girl of Fifteen" is so fully written out, that it precludes the necessity of reproducing a large portion of this story.]

In the evening a friend arrived, bringing with him a bright, handsome boy, whom he called Joe. Most heartily was "Joe" welcomed, and deep was the thrill which we felt, as we looked upon him and thought of the perils he had escaped. The next day was Thanksgiving-day, and my house was thronged with guests. In an upper room, with a comfortable fire, and the door locked, sat "Joe," still in boy's clothes, to be able to escape at the first intimation of danger, but with a smile and look of touching gratitude, whenever any one of the family who was in the secret, left the festive group to look in upon the interesting stranger. Not one of us can ever forget the deep abhorrence of Slavery, and thanksgiving to Almighty God, that we felt that day as we moved among the guests, who were wholly ignorant of the occupant of that upper room. Some curiosity was indeed excited among the little grandchildren, who saw slices of turkey and plum pudding sent up stairs. It was "Joe's" first Thanksgiving dinner in a free State.

As she brought nothing away with her, it was necessary, the next day, to procure a complete wardrobe for a girl, which was carefully packed for her to take with her.

The second day after "Joe's" arrival, the Rev. Mr. Freeman, pastor of a colored church in Brooklyn, agreed to accompany her to her uncle Brown's in Canada West, and we saw them depart, knowing the danger that would beset both on the way. The following is part of a letter from Mr. F., giving an account of their journey. After stating that they left New York, in the cars at five o'clock, P.M., and through the providence of God, went on their way safely and speedily, with none to molest or to make them afraid, he says:

"On reaching Rochester, I began to ask myself 'how shall we get over Niagara Falls?' I was not sure that the cars ran across the Suspension Bridge; besides, I felt that we were in more danger here, than we had been at any other place. Knowing that there was a large reward offered for Joe's apprehension, I feared there might be some lurking spy ready to pounce upon us. But when we arrived at the Bridge, the conductor said: 'Sit still; this car goes across.' You may judge of my joy and relief of mind, when I looked out and was sure that we were over! Thank God, I exclaimed, we are safe in Canada!

Having now a few minutes before the cars would start again, I sat down and hastily wrote a few lines, to inform friends at home of our safe arrival. As soon as possible, I ran to the post-office with my letter, paid the postage, and while I was waiting for my change, the car bell rang. I quickly returned, and in a few minutes, we were on our way to Chatham (200 miles West). That place we reached between seven and eight o'clock, Saturday evening. When we got out, we met a gentleman who asked me if I wanted a boarding-house. I said yes; and he invited me to go with him. I asked him if there was any way for us to get to Dresden that night. He answered, 'No, it is a dark night, and a muddy road, and no conveyance can be got tonight.' I soon found that we must stay in Chatham until Monday morning.

On our way to the boarding-house, the gentleman said to me: 'Is this your son with you?' I answered, no; and then I asked him, if he knew a man living in D., by the name of Bradley. He replied that he was very well acquainted with him, and then inquired if that young man was Mr. Bradley's brother. I said, no—not exactly a brother. He must have thought it strange that I did not give him a more definite answer to his question.

When we reached the house, we found several boarders in the sitting-room and a few neighbors. I had already told him my name, but with regard to Joe, I had not yet had a chance to explain. I, of course, was introduced to those who were in the room, but Joe—well, Joe took a seat, and did not seem to be troubled about an introduction. As the landlord was going out of the room, I asked permission to speak with him alone. He took me into another room, and I said to him: 'That young man, as you call him, is a young woman, and has come dressed in this manner, all the way from Washington City. She would be very glad now to be able to change her clothes.'

He was greatly surprised, and would hardly believe that it was so; but said, 'I will call my wife.' She came, and I guess all the women in the house came with her. They soon disappeared, and Joe with them, who, after being absent a while, returned, and was introduced as Miss Ann Maria Weems. The whole company were on their feet, shook hands, laughed, and rejoiced, declaring that this beat all they had ever seen before. Chatham contains, I was told, more than three thousand fugitives. The weather there, is not colder than in New York.

The next morning was the Sabbath, but this I must pass and hasten to D., the residence of Mr. Bradley. We started early Monday morning. As a part of the road was very bad, we did not reach there till a late hour. As we were passing along, and getting near to the place, we met two colored men who were talking together—one on horseback, and the other on foot. I inquired of them, if they could tell me how far it was to Mr. Bradley's. The man on horseback said it was about a mile further, and then proceeded to give directions. After he had done this, he said: 'I reckon I am the one that you want to find, my name is Bradley.' Well, I replied, probably you are the man. Just then Ann Maria turned her head around. As soon as he saw her face, he exclaimed: 'My Lord! Maria, is that you? Is that you? My child, is it you? We never expected to see you again! We had given you up; O, what will your aunt say? It will kill her! She will die! It will kill her.'

I told him, that as I was obliged to leave again soon, I must proceed. 'Well,' said he, 'you go on; I am just going over to M., and will be back in a few minutes.' We started for his house, and he towards M., but we had only gone a short distance, when he overtook us, exclaiming: 'I can't go to M.,' and began talking to Ann Maria, asking her all about her friends and relatives, whom they had left behind, and about his old master, and his wife's master, from whom they had run away four years before. As we approached the house, he said: 'I will go and open the gate, and have a good fire to warm you.' When he came up to the gate, he met his wife, who was returning from a store or neighbor's house, and he said to her, 'That's Ann Maria coming yonder.' She stopped until we came to the gate; the tears were rolling from her eyes, and she exclaimed: 'Ann Maria, is it you?' The girl leaped from the wagon, and they fell on each other's necks, weeping and rejoicing. Such a scene I never before witnessed. She, who had been given up as lost, was now found! She, who but a short time before, had been, as they supposed, a slave for life, was now free.

We soon entered the house, and after the first gush of feeling had somewhat subsided, they both began a general inquiry about the friends they had left behind. Every now and then, the aunt would break out: 'My child, you are here! Thank God, you are free! We were talking about you today, and saying, we shall never see you again; and now here you are with us.' I remained about an hour and a half with them, took dinner, and then started for home, rejoicing that I had been to a land where colored men are free.

This Mr. Bradley, who ran away with himself and wife about four years ago from the land of whips and chains, is the owner of two farms, and is said to be worth three thousand dollars. Can slaves take care of themselves?"

You may well suppose that the receipt of this letter gave us great pleasure, and called forth heartfelt thanksgiving to Him, who had watched over this undertaking, and protected all concerned in it. A bright and promising girl had been rescued from the untold miseries of a slave woman's life, and found a good home, where she would have an opportunity to acquire an education and be trained for a useful and happy life. Mr. Bradley intended to send for her parents, and hoped to prevail on them to come and live with him.

Truly yours,

LEWIS TAPPAN



ELIJAH F. PENNYPACKER,

Whose name belongs to the history of the Underground Rail Road, owed his peculiarly fine nature to a mother of large physical proportions, and correspondingly liberal mental and spiritual endowments. She was a natural sovereign in the sphere in which she moved, and impressed her son with the qualities which made his Anti-slavery life nothing but an expression of the rules of conduct which governed him in all other particulars. Believing in his inmost soul in principles of rectitude, all men believed in him, his "yea," or "nay," passing current wherever he went. Tall, dignified, and commanding, he had that in his face which inspired immediate confidence. Said one who looked: "If that is not a good man, there is no use in the Lord writing His signature on human countenances." Even in early youth, honors which he never sought, were pressed upon him, as he gave assurance of ability commensurate with his worth. He was sent to the Legislature of Pennsylvania for five sessions, where he became the personal friend of the Governor, Joseph Ritner, and also of Thaddeus Stevens. At the request of the latter, he consented to occupy the position of Secretary to the Board of Canal Commissioners, and two years after, by the wishes of Mr. Ritner, took a seat in the Canal Board, becoming a co-worker with Thaddeus Stevens. Here ripened a friendship, which afterward became of national importance, for although a nature so positive as that of Thaddeus Stevens could scarcely be said to be under the influence of any other mind, still, if there were those who exercised a moral sway, sustaining this courageous republican leader, at a higher level than he might otherwise have attained, Elijah F. Pennypacker was surely amongst them. Almost antipodal as they were in certain respects, each recognized the genuine ring of the other, and admired and respected that which was most true and noble. The purity, simplicity and high-minded honor which distinguished the younger, had its effect on the elder, even while he smiled at the inflexibility which would not swerve one hair's breadth from the line of right. The story is often told, how, when this young man's conscience stood bolt upright in the way of what was deemed a desirable arrangement, Stevens one day exclaimed: "It don't do, Pennypacker, to be so d——d honest." Pennypacker stood his ground, and the life-long respect which Stevens ever after awarded, proved that he at least, thought it did do.

When it became clear to his mind, that a great battle was to be fought between Liberty and Slavery in America, Mr. Pennypacker felt it to be his duty to turn aside from the sunny paths of political preferment, into the shadows of obscure life, and ally himself with the misrepresented, despised and outcast Abolitionists, ever after devoting himself assiduously to the promotion of the cause of Freedom. Notwithstanding his natural modesty, here as elsewhere, he took a conspicuous position. At home, in the local Anti-slavery Society of his neighborhood, he was for many years chosen president, as he was also of the Chester county Anti-slavery Society, and of the Pennsylvania State Anti-slavery Society.

Soon after his retirement from public life, he united himself with the Society of Friends, but was much too radical to be an acceptable addition. For a long time he was endured rather than endorsed, and it was only when such anti-slavery feelings as he cherished became generally diffused throughout the Society, that he found the unity he desired and expected. Whatever may have been his trials here or elsewhere, he found a rich reward for his faithfulness in the intellectual and moral growth which he attained by association with the most advanced minds of the time, and he has often been heard to say that no part of his life has been more fully and generously compensated than that devoted to the Anti-slavery cause.

His home, near Phoenixville, Chester county, Pa., was an important station on the Underground Rail Road, the majority of fugitives proceeding through the southern rural districts of Eastern Pennsylvania, passing through his hands. At all times he was deeply interested in their welfare, and in his hospitality towards them, had the entire sympathy and co-operation of his family, they, like himself, being earnest abolitionists, but his more important duty of influencing public sentiment in favor of freedom, overshadowed his labors in this department. In steadfastness and integrity he stood beside Findley Coates and Thomas Whitson, a trio who will long be remembered in their native State.

So long as Dr. B. Fussell resided in the northern section of Chester county, he and Elijah F. Pennypacker, were companions in Anti-slavery and other reform labors, as well as in business on the Underground Rail Road. Differing widely in temperament and mental structure, these two men were harmonious in spirit, and a close bond of sympathy and affection existed between them. It was a mutual pleasure to work as brothers, and afterward to rejoice together in labor accomplished. One of the last visits which roused the flickering animation of the dying physician, was from this friend of more vigorous years, and the voice which gave fitting expression to the worth of the departed, at his funeral, was that of Elijah F. Pennypacker.

Like that of the highest grade of men everywhere, his appreciation of woman has ever been keen and true, and demanding the full rights of humanity, he makes no distinction, either on account of sex or color. In his own family, he has always encouraged the pursuit of any occupation congenial to the person choosing it; whether or not, it were a departure from the routine of custom, and in educational advantages he has ever demanded the widest possible culture for all. Wherever known, he is estimated as a pillar in the temperance cause. Gentle, modest, courteous and benignant, he combines, in a remarkable degree, strength and tenderness, courage and sympathy. At one time, holding at bay the powers of evil and baffling the most determined opponents by his manly adherence to right; at another he may be found yielding to impressions bidding him to seek the source of some hidden private sorrow, and with delicate touch, binding up a flowing wound, or offering himself as the defender and protector of such as may need his brotherly care. Obedient to these impressions, he rarely errs in his ministrations, and whether his errand be to remonstrate with the evil doer, setting his sins clearly and vividly before him, or to strengthen and encourage suffering innocence, he is alike successful. Men, whom he has warned in reproof when it cost the utmost bravery to do so, have become his confiding friends, and have been known afterward to entrust him with heavy pecuniary responsibilities, and to point him out to their children as an example worthy of imitation. Those whose griefs he has frequently softened, have laid upon his head a crown of blessing whiter than the honors which come with his silver hairs, and all with whom he comes in contact in business, in duty, or in social intercourse, acknowledge the presence, the wide usefulness and influence of the upright man.

The memories of the choice spirits he used to meet in the Anti-slavery gatherings; their mutual and kindly greetings; the holy resolves which animated them and made the time hours of exaltation, now serve to brighten the pathway of his declining years, and to throw a halo around the restfulness of his home, as in peace of mind he looks abroad over his beloved country, to see millions of enfranchised men beginning to avail themselves of its pecuniary, educational and political advantages, and beholds them starting on a career of material and spiritual prosperity, with a rapidity commensurate with the expansive force of the repressed energies of a race.

STATION MASTERS ON THE ROAD.



WILLIAM WRIGHT.



MEMORIAL.

William Wright, a distinguished abolitionist of Adams county, Pennsylvania, was born on the 21st of December, 1788. Various circumstances conspired to make this unassuming Quaker an earnest Abolitionist and champion of the oppressed in every land and of every nationality and color. His uncle, Benjamin Wright, and cousin, Samuel B. Wright, were active members of the old Pennsylvania Abolition Society, and at the time of the emancipation of the slaves in this state were often engaged in lawsuits with slave-holders to compel them to release their bondmen, according to the requirements of the law. William Wright grew up under the influence of the teachings of these relatives. Joined to this, his location caused him to take an extraordinary interest in Underground Rail Road affairs. He lived near the foot of the southern slope of the South Mountain, a spur of the Alleghenies which extends, under various names, to Chattanooga, Tennessee. This mountain was followed in its course by hundreds of fugitives until they got into Pennsylvania, and were directed to William Wright's house.

In November, 1817, William Wright married Phebe Wierman, (born on the 8th of February, 1790,) daughter of a neighboring farmer, and sister of Hannah W. Gibbons, wife of Daniel Gibbons, a notice of whom appears elsewhere in this work. Phebe Wright was the assistant of her husband in every good work, and their married life of forty-eight years was a long period of united and efficient labor in the cause of humanity. She still (1871) survives him. William and Phebe Wright began their Underground Rail Road labors about the year 1819. Hamilton Moore, who ran away from Baltimore county, Maryland, was the first slave aided by them. His master came for him, but William Wright and Joel Wierman, Phebe Wright's brother, who lived in the neighborhood, rescued him and sent him to Canada.

In the autumn of 1828, as Phebe Wright, surrounded by her little children, came out upon her back porch in the performance of some household duty, she saw standing before her in the shade of the early November morning, a colored man without hat, shoes, or coat. He asked if Mr. Wright lived there, and upon receiving an affirmative reply, said that he wanted work. The good woman, comprehending the situation at a glance, told him to come into the house, get warm, and wait till her husband came home. He was shivering with cold and fright. When William Wright came home the fugitive told his story. He came from Hagerstown, Maryland, having been taught the blacksmith's trade there. In this business it was his duty to keep an account of all the work done by him, which record he showed to his master at the end of the week. Knowing no written character but the figure 5 he kept this account by means of a curious system of hieroglyphics in which straight marks meant horse shoes put on, circles, cart-wheels fixed, etc. One day in happening to see his master's book he noticed that wherever five and one were added the figure 6 was used. Having practiced this till he could make it he ever after used it in his accounts. As his master was looking over these one day, he noticed the new figure and compelled the slave to tell how he had learned it. He flew into a rage, and said, "I'll teach you how to be learning new figures," and picking up a horse-shoe threw it at him, but fortunately for the audacious chattel, missed his aim. Notwithstanding his ardent desire for liberty, the slave considered it his duty to remain in bondage until he was twenty-one years old in order to repay by his labor the trouble and expense which his master had had in rearing him. On the evening of his twenty-first anniversary he turned his face toward the North star, and started for a land of freedom. Arriving at Reisterstown, a village on the Westminster turnpike about twenty-five miles from Baltimore and thirty-five miles from Mr. Wright's house, he was arrested and placed in the bar-room of the country tavern in care of the landlady to wait until his captors, having finished some work in which they were engaged, could take him back to his master. The landlady, being engaged in getting supper, set him to watch the cakes that were baking. As she was passing back and forth he ostentatiously removed his hat, coat, and shoes, and placed them in the bar-room. Having done this, he said to her, "I will step out a moment." This he did, she sending a boy to watch him. When the boy came out he appeared to be very sick and called hastily for water. The boy ran in to get it. Now was his golden opportunity. Jumping the fence he ran to a clump of trees which occupied low ground behind the house and concealing himself in it for a moment, ran and continued to run, he knew not whither, until he found himself at the toll gate near Petersburg, in Adams county. Before this he had kept in the fields and forests, but now found himself compelled to come out upon the road. The toll-gate keeper, seeing at once that he was a fugitive, said to him, "I guess you don't know the road." "I guess I can find it myself," was the reply. "Let me show you," said the man. "You may if you please," replied the fugitive. Taking him out behind his dwelling, he pointed across the fields to a new brick farm-house, and said, "Go there and inquire for Mr. Wright." The slave thanked him and did as he was directed.

He remained with William Wright until April, 1829. During this short time he learned to read, write, and cipher as far as the single rule of three, as it was then called, or simple proportion. During his residence with William Wright, nothing could exceed his kindness or gratitude to the whole family. He learned to graft trees, and thus rendered great assistance to William Wright in his necessary business. When working in the kitchen during the winter he would never allow Phebe Wright to perform any hard labor, always scrubbing the floor and lifting heavy burdens for her. Before he went away in the spring he assumed a name which his talents, perseverance, and genius have rendered famous in both hemispheres, that of James W.C. Pennington. The initial W. was for his benefactor's family, and C. for the family of his former master. From William Wright's he went to Daniel Gibbons', thence to Delaware county, Pennsylvania, and from there to New Haven, Conn., where, while performing the duties of janitor at Yale College, he completed the studies of the college course. After a few years, he went to Heidelberg, where the degree of D.D. was conferred upon him. He never forgot William Wright and his family, and on his return from Europe brought them each a present. The story of his escape and wonderful abilities was spread over England. An American acquaintance of the Wright family was astonished, on visiting an Anti-slavery fair in London many years ago, to see among the pictures for sale there, one entitled, "William and Phebe Wright receiving James W.C. Pennington." The Dr. died in Florida, in 1870, where he had gone to preach and assist in opening schools amongst the Freemen.

In 1842 a party of sixteen slaves came to York, Pa., from Baltimore county, Md. Here they were taken in charge by William Wright, Joel Fisher, Dr. Lewis, and William Yocum. The last named was a constable, and used to assist the Underground Rail Road managers by pretending to hunt fugitives with the kidnappers. Knowing where the fugitives were he was enabled to hunt them in the opposite direction from that in which they had gone, and thus give them time to escape. This constable and a colored man of York took this party one by one out into Samuel Willis' corn-field, near York, and hid them under the shocks. The following night Dr. Lewis piloted them to near his house, at Lewisburg, York county, on the banks of the Conewago. Here they were concealed several days, Dr. Lewis carrying provisions to them in his saddle-bags. When the search for them had been given up in William Wright's neighborhood, he went down to Lewisburg and in company with Dr. Lewis took the whole sixteen across the Conewago, they fording the river and carrying the fugitives across on their horses. It was a gloomy night in November. Every few moments clouds floated across the moon, alternately lighting up and shading the river, which, swelled by autumn rains, ran a flood. William Wright and Dr. Lewis mounted men or women behind and took children in their arms. When the last one got over, the doctor, who professed to be an atheist, exclaimed, "Great God! is this a Christian land, and are Christians thus forced to flee for their liberty?" William Wright guided this party to his house that night and concealed them in a neighboring forest until it was safe for them to proceed on their way to Canada.

Just in the beginning of harvest of the year 1851, four men came off from Washington county, Maryland. They were almost naked and seemed to have come through great difficulties, their clothing being almost entirely torn off. As soon as they came, William Wright went to the store and got four pair of shoes. It was soon heard that their masters and the officers had gone to Harrisburg to hunt them. Two of them, Fenton and Tom, were concealed at William Wright's, and the other two, Sam and one whose name has been forgotten, at Joel Wierman's. In a day or two, as William Wright, a number of carpenters, and other workmen, among whom were Fenton and Tom, were at work in the barn, a party of men rode up and recognized the colored men as slaves of one of their number. The colored men said they had left their coats at the house. William Wright looked earnestly at them and told them to go to the house and get their coats. They went off, and one of them was observed by one of the family to take his coat hastily down from where it hung in one of the outhouses, a few moments afterward. After conversing a few moments at the barn, William Wright brought the slave-holders down to the house, where he, his wife and daughters engaged them in a controversy on the subject of slavery which lasted about an hour. One of them seemed very much impressed, and labored hard to convince his host that he was a good master and would treat his men well. Finally one of the party asked William Wright to produce the men. He replied that he would not do that, that they might search his premises if they wished to, but they could not compel him to bring forth the fugitives. Seeing that they had been duped, they became very angry and proceeded forthwith to search the house and all the outhouses immediately around it, without, however, finding those whom they sought. As they left the house and went toward the barn, William Wright, waving his hand toward the former, said, "You see they are not anywhere there." They then went to the barn and gave it a thorough search. Between it and the house, a little away from the path, but in plain sight, stood the carriage-house, which they passed by without seeming to notice. After they had gone, poor Tom was found in this very house, curled up under the seats of the old-fashioned family carriage. He had never come to the house at all, but had heard the voices of his hunters from his hiding-place, during their whole search. About two o'clock in the morning, Fenton was found by William Wright out in the field. He had run along the bed of a small water course, dry at that time of year, until he came to a rye field amid whose high grain he hid himself until he thought the danger was past. From William Wright's the slave-catchers went to Joel Wierman's, where, despite all that could be done, they got poor Sam, took him off to Maryland and sold him to the traders to be taken far south.

In 1856 William Wright was a delegate from Adams county to the Convention at Philadelphia which nominated John C. Fremont for President of the United States. As the counties were called in alphabetical order, he responded first among the Pennsylvania delegation. It is thought that he helped away during his whole life, nearly one thousand slaves. During his latter years, he was aided in the good work by his children, who never hesitated to sacrifice their own pleasure in order to help away fugitives.

His convictions on the subject of slavery seem to have been born with him, to have grown with his growth, and strengthened with his strength. He could not remember when he first became interested in the subject.

William Wright closed his long and useful life on the 25th of October, 1865. More fortunate than his co-laborer, Daniel Gibbons, he lived to see the triumph of the cause in which he had labored all his life. His latter years were cheered by the remembrance of his good deeds in the cause of human freedom. Modest and retiring, he would not desire, as he does not need, a eulogy. His labors speak for themselves, and are such as are recorded upon the Lamb's Book of Life.



DR. BARTHOLOMEW FUSSELL.

Dr. Fussell, whose death occurred within the current year, was no ordinary man. He was born in Chester county, Pa., in 1794, his ancestors being members of the Society of Friends, principally of English origin, who arrived in America during the early settlement of Pennsylvania, some being of the number who, with William Penn, built their homes on the unbroken soil, where Philadelphia now stands.

He inherited all the bravery of these early pioneers, who left their homes for the sake of religious freedom, the governing principle of his life being a direct antagonism to every form of oppression. Removing in early manhood, to Maryland, where negro Slavery was legally protected, he became one of the most active opponents of the system, being a friend and co-laborer of Elisha Tyson, known and beloved as "Father Tyson," by all the slaves of the region, and to the community at large, as one of the most philanthropic of men.

While teaching school during the week, as a means of self-education, and reading medicine at night, the young student expended his surplus energy in opening a Sabbath-school for colored persons, teaching them the rudiments of knowledge, not for a few hours only, but for the whole day, and frequently finding as many as ninety pupils collected to receive the inestimable boon which gave them the power of reading the Bible for themselves. To the deeply religious nature of these Africans, this was the one blessing they prized above all others in his power to bestow, and the overflowing gratitude they gave in return, was a memory he cherished to the latest years of his life.

After his graduation in medicine, being at one time called upon to deliver an address before the Medical Society of Baltimore, in the midst of a pro-slavery audience, and before slave-holding professors and men of authority, Dr. Fussell, with a courage scarcely to be comprehended at this late day, denounced "the most preposterous and cruel practice of Slavery, as replete with the causes of disease," and expressed the hope that the day would come "when Slavery and cruelty should have no abiding place in the whole habitable earth; when the philosopher and the pious Christian could use the salutation of 'brother,' and the physician and divine be as one man; when the rich and the poor should know no distinction; the great and the small be equal in dominion, and the arrogant master and his menial slave should make a truce of friendship with each other, all following the same law of reason, all guided by the same light of Truth!"

As a matter of course, a spirit so thoroughly awake to the welfare of humanity, would hail with joy and welcome as a brother, the appearance of such a devoted advocate of freedom, as Benjamin Lundy; and, with all the warmth of his nature, would give love, admiration, and reverence to the later apostle of immediate emancipation, William Lloyd Garrison.

It was one of the pleasures of Dr. Fussell's life that he had been enabled to take the first number of the "Liberator," and to continue a subscriber without intermission, until the battle being ended, the last number was announced.

He was himself, one of the most earnest workers in the Anti-slavery cause, never omitting in a fearless manner, to embrace an opportunity to protest against the encouragement of a pro-slavery spirit.

Returning to Pennsylvania, to practice his profession, his home became one of the havens where the hunted fugitive from Slavery found food, shelter and rest. Laboring in connection with the late Thomas Garrett, of Wilmington, Del., and with many others, at available points, about two thousand fugitives passed through his hands, on their way to freedom, and amongst these, he frequently had the delight of welcoming some of his old Sabbath-school pupils. The mutual recognition was sometimes touching in the extreme.

In later life, his anecdotes and reminiscences, told in the vivid style, resulting from a remarkably retentive memory, which could recall word, tone, and gesture, brought to life, some of the most interesting of his experiences with these fleeing bondmen, whose histories no romance could ever equal.

Being one of the signers of the "Declaration of Sentiments," issued by the American Anti-slavery Society in 1833, he had also the gratification of attending the last meeting of the Pennsylvania Anti-slavery Society, called to celebrate the downfall of Slavery in America, and the dissolution of an organization whose purpose was effected. There are those, who may remember how at that time, in perfect forgetfulness of self, the relation of the heroism of his friend, Elisha Tyson, seemed to recall for a moment, the vigor of youth to render the decrepitude of age almost majestic.

But it was not Slavery alone, which occupied the thoughts and attention of this large-hearted man. He was well known as an advocate of common school education, of temperance, and of every other interest, which, in his view, pertained to the welfare of man.

Unfortunately, he was addicted to the use of tobacco from his youth. Having become convinced that it was an evil, he, for the sake of consistency and as an example to others, resolutely abandoned the habit, at the age of seventy. He was fond of accrediting his resolve to a very aged relative, who, in remonstrating with him upon the subject, replied to his remark, that a sudden cessation from a practice so long indulged in, might result in his death: "Well, die, then, and go to heaven decently."

As a practitioner of medicine, he was eminently successful, his intense sympathy with suffering, seeming to elevate his faculties and give them unwonted vigor in tracing the hidden causes of disease, and in suggesting to his mind alleviating agencies. His patients felt an unspeakable comfort in his presence, well knowing that the best possible remedy which his knowledge, his judgment or his experience suggested, would be selected, let the difficulty and inconvenience to himself be what it would. In cases where life hung trembling in the balance, he would watch night after night, feeding the flickering flame until he perceived it brighten, and this in the abode of misery just as freely as in the home of wealth. The life-long affection of those whom he recalled, was his reward where often none was sought or expected.

He believed in woman as only a thoroughly good man can, and from early youth, he had been impressed with her peculiar fitness for the practice of medicine. The experience of a physician confirmed him in his sentiments, and it became one of his most earnest aspirations to open to her all the avenues to the study of medicine. In the year 1840, he gave regular instruction to a class of ladies, and it was through one of these pupils, that the first female graduate in America was interested in the study of medicine. In 1846 he communicated to a few liberal-minded professional men, a plan for the establishment of a college of the highest grade for the medical education of women. This long-cherished plan, hallowed to him by the approbation of a beloved wife, was well received. Others, with indomitable zeal, took up the work, and finally, after a succession of disappointments and discouragements from causes within and without, the Woman's College, on North College avenue, Philadelphia, starting from the germ of his thought, entered on the career of prosperity it is so well entitled to receive. Though never at any time connected with the college, he regarded its success with the most affectionate interest, considering its proposition as one of the most important results of his life.

Happy in having lived to see Slavery abolished, and believing in the speedy elevation of woman to her true dignity as joint sovereign with man, and in the mitigation of the evils of war, intemperance, poverty, and crime, which might be expected to follow such a result, he rested from his labors, and died in peace.



THOMAS SHIPLEY.[A]

Thomas Shipley, one of the foremost in the early generation of philanthropists who devoted their lives to the extinction of human slavery, was born in Philadelphia on the second of Fourth month, 1787. He was the youngest of five children of William and Margaret Shipley, his father having emigrated from Uttoxeter, in Staffordshire, England, about the year 1750. From a very early period in the history of the Society of Friends his ancestors had been members of that body, and he inherited from them the strong sense of personal independence, and the love of toleration and respect for the rights of others which have ever characterized that body of people.

Soon after his birth, his mother died, and he was thus early deprived of the fostering care of a pious and devoted parent, whose counsels are so important in forming the youthful mind, and in giving a direction to future life.

A few years after the death of his mother, his father was removed, and Thomas was left an orphan before he had attained his sixth year. After this affecting event he was taken into the family of Isaac Bartram, who had married his eldest sister. Here he remained for several years, acquiring the common rudiments of education, and at a suitable age was sent to Westtown school; after remaining there for a little more than a year, he met with an accident, which rendered it necessary for him to return home; and the effects of which prevented him from proceeding with his education. He fell from the top of a high flight of steps to the ground, and received an injury of the head, followed by convulsions, which continued at intervals for a considerable time, and rendered him incapable of any effort of mind or body.

He was, during childhood, remarkably fond of reading, and was distinguished among his friends and associates for uncommon perseverance in accomplishing anything he undertook, a trait which peculiarly marked him through life; his disposition is said to have been unusually amiable and docile, so as to endear him very strongly to his relatives and friends.

After his removal from Westtown, he was again taken into the family of his brother-in-law, and remained under the care of his sister, who was very much attached to him, until he was placed as an apprentice to the hardware business. While here, he was entirely relieved of the affliction caused by the fall, and was restored to sound health. About the age of twenty-one, he entered upon the pursuits of the business he had selected.

The exact time at which his attention was turned to the subject of slavery cannot be ascertained, but it is probable that a testimony against it was among his earliest impressions as a member of the religious Society of Friends. He joined the "Pennsylvania Society for the Promoting the Abolition of Slavery," etc., in 1817, and the ardent interest which he took in its objects, was evinced on many occasions within the recollection of many now living. He was for many years an active member of its Board of Education, and took a prominent part in extending the benefits of learning to colored children and youth.

The career of Thomas Shipley, as it was connected with the interests of the colored community, abounds in incidents which have rarely occurred in the life of any individual. Being universally regarded as their adviser and protector, he was constantly solicited for his advice on questions touching their welfare. This led him to investigate the laws relating to this class of persons, in all their extended ramifications. The knowledge he thus acquired, together with his practical acquaintance with the business and decisions of our courts, rendered his opinion peculiarly serviceable on all matters affecting their rights. Never did a merchant study more closely the varied relations of business, and their influence on his interests, than did Thomas Shipley all those questions which concerned the well-being of those for whom he was so warmly interested. He had volunteered his services as their advocate, and they could not have been more faithfully served had they poured out the wealth of Croesus at the feet of the most learned counsel.

On every occasion of popular commotion where the safety of the colored people was threatened, he was found at his post, fearlessly defending their rights, and exerting his influence with those in authority to throw around them the protection of the laws. In the tumultuous scenes which disgraced Philadelphia, in the summer of 1835, in which the fury of the mob was directed against the persons and property of the colored inhabitants, he acted with an energy and prudence rarely found combined in the same individual.

The mob had collected and organized to the number of several hundred, and were marching through the lower part of the city, dealing destruction in their course; the houses of respectable and worthy colored citizens were broken in upon, the furniture scattered to the winds, all they possessed destroyed or plundered, and they themselves subjected to the most brutal and savage treatment. Defenceless infancy and decrepid age were alike disregarded in the general devastation which these ruffians had decreed should attend their course. The color of the skin was the mark by which their vengeance was directed, and the cries and entreaties of their innocent and defenceless victims were alike disregarded in the accomplishment of their ends. Already had several victims fallen before the fury of the ruthless band. Law and order were laid waste, and the officers of justice looked on, some perhaps with dismay, and others with indifference, while the rights of citizens were prostrated, and their peaceful and quiet homes invaded by the hand of violence. At such a time the voice of remonstrance or entreaty, would have been useless, and had the avowed friends of the colored man interfered in any public manner, the effect would probably have been to increase the fury of the storm, and to have directed the violence of the mob upon themselves.

Under these perilous circumstances, Thomas Shipley was determined to attempt an effort for their relief. He could not look on and see those for whom he was so deeply interested threatened almost with extermination without an effort for their preservation, and yet he was aware that his presence amongst the mob might subject him to assassination, without adding to the security of the objects of his solicitude. He, therefore, determined to disguise himself in such a manner as not to be recognized, and to mingle amongst the rioters in order to ascertain their objects, and if possible to convey such information to the proper authorities as might lead to the arrest of those most active in fomenting disorder. Accordingly he left his house late in the evening, attired so as to be completely disguised, and repaired to the scene of tumult. By this time much mischief had been done, and to add fresh fury to the multitude, and to incite them to new deeds of blood, nothing was wanting but some act of resistance on the part of their victims, who, during the whole period, had conducted themselves with a forbearance and patience highly creditable to them as good citizens and upright Christians. Such an occasion was about to occur, and was prevented by the admirable coolness and forethought of Thomas Shipley.

A number of colored men who had been driven to desperation by the acts of the mob, and who had relinquished the idea of protection from the civil authorities, determined to resort to arms, to defend themselves and their families from the further aggressions of their persecutors. They accordingly repaired to Benezet Hall, one of their public buildings in South Seventh Street, with a supply of fire arms and ammunition, determined to fire upon the assailants, and maintain their post or die in the attempt. This fact became known to the leaders of the mob, and the cry was raised to march for the hall, and make the attack. Thomas Shipley who had mingled amongst the rioters, and apparently identified himself with them, was now perfectly aware of all their designs; he knew their numbers, he had seen the implements of destruction which they were brandishing about them, and he was aware that the occurrence of such a conflict would be attended with the most disastrous results, and might be the beginning of hostilities which would terminate in the destruction of the weaker party, or at least in a dreadful effusion of human blood. Seeing the position in which the parties were now placed, he left the ranks of the rioters, and ran at the top of his speed to the house in which the colored people were collected, awaiting the approach of their enemy. As he drew near, they were about coming out to meet their assailants, highly excited by continued outrages, and determined to defend themselves or die. At this unexpected moment, their protector drew nigh; he raised his voice aloud, and addressed the multitude. He deprecated the idea of a resort to physical force, as being calculated to increase their difficulties, and to plunge them into general distress, and entreated them to retire from the hall. His voice was immediately recognized; the effect was electric; the whole throng knew him as their friend; their fierce passions were calmed by the voice of reason and admonition. They could not disregard his counsels; he had come among them, at the dead hour of night, in the midst of danger and trial, to raise his warning voice against a course of measures they were about to pursue. They listened to his remonstrances, and retreated before the mob had reached the building. At this juncture the Mayor and his officers assembled in front of the hall, and by prompt and energetic action succeeded in dispersing the mob, and through the information received from Thomas Shipley, the ringleaders were secured and lodged in prison.

The part which Thomas Shipley acted in the trying scenes so often presented in our courts, during this unhappy period, has invested his character with a remarkable degree of interest. It is probable that his connection with the Pennsylvania Abolition Society was the means of enlisting his talents and exertions in this important service.

The energy and zeal of our friend in his efforts for the relief of those about to be deprived of their dearest rights, soon distinguished him as the most efficient member of the Society, in this department of its duties. So intense was his interest in all cases where the liberty of his fellow-man was at issue, that, during a period of many years, he was scarcely ever absent from the side of the unhappy victim, as he sat before our judicial tribunals, trembling for his fate. The promptings of interest, the pleasures and allurements of the world, the quiet enjoyment of a peaceful home, were all cheerfully sacrificed, when his services were demanded in these distressing cases. Often has he left the business, in which his pecuniary interests were materially involved, to stand by the unhappy fugitive in the hour of his extremity, with an alacrity and a spirit which could only be displayed by one animated by the loftiest principles and the purest philanthropy.

Who, that has ever witnessed one of these trying scenes, can forget his manly and honest bearing, as he stood before the unrelenting and arrogant claimant, watching with an eagle eye, every step of the process by which he hoped to gain his victim? Who has not been struck with his expressive glances toward the judge, when a doubtful point arose in the investigation of the case? Who has not caught the lively expression of delight which beamed from his countenance, when a fact was disclosed which had a favorable bearing on the liberty of the captive? Who has not admired the sagacity with which his inquiries were dictated, and the tact and acumen with which he managed every part of his cause? His principle was unhesitatingly to submit to existing laws, however unjust their decrees might be, but to scan well the bearing of the facts and principles involved in each case, and to see that nothing was wanting in the chain of evidence, or in the legal points in question, fully to satisfy the requisitions of law. If a doubtful point arose, he was unwearied in investigating it, and devoted hours, days, and even weeks, in the collection of testimony which he thought would have a favorable influence on the prisoner.

Through his untiring vigilance, many victims have escaped from the hand of the oppressor, whose title to freedom, according to the laws of this commonwealth, was undoubted, and many others, whose enslavement was at least questionable.

The time and labor expended by Thomas Shipley in protecting the interests of his colored clients, would be almost incredible to those who were not aware of his extraordinary devotion to the cause. The only notice which can be found among his papers, of the various slave cases in which he was engaged, is contained in a memorandum book, which he commenced in the summer of 1835. In this book he has noted, in the order of their occurrence, such instances of difficulty or distress as demanded his interference, almost without a comment. I find from this book, that his advice and assistance were bestowed in twenty-five cases, from Seventh mo. 16th, to Eighth mo. 24th, 1836, a period of little more than a month. A number of these cases required the writing of letters to distant places; in some it was necessary for him to visit the parties interested; and others demanded his personal attendance at court. This perhaps, may be considered as a fair average of the amount of labor which he constantly expended in this department of his benevolent efforts; and when we consider the time occupied in the necessary duties of his ordinary avocations, it must be evident that he possessed not only extraordinary humanity, but uncommon activity and energy, to have accomplished so much.

In the memorandum book referred to, under date of Twelfth mo., 1835, I find the following note: "Spent eighteen days in the trial of A. Hemsley, and his wife Nancy, and her three children, arrested at Mount Holly, the husband claimed by Goldsborough Price, executor of Isaac Boggs, of Queen Ann's county, Maryland, and the wife and children by Richard D. Cooper, of the same county. John Willoughby, agent for both claimants. B.R. Brown and B. Clarke, attorneys for the claimant, and D.P. Brown, J.R. Slack, E.B. Cannon, and G.W. Camblos, for defendants. After a full argument, in which a manumission was produced for Nancy, from R.D. Cooper's father, she and her children were discharged, but her husband was remanded; on which a certiorari was served on the judge, and a habeas corpus placed in the sheriff's hands."

"Alexander was discharged by the Supreme Court, at Trenton, Third mo. 5th. The circumstances of the case, were briefly the following: The woman and children had been regularly manumitted in Delaware by the father of the claimant, while the title of the father to freedom was less positive, though sufficiently clear to warrant a vigorous effort on his behalf."

The first object of the counsel on the part of the alleged fugitive, was to prove the manumission of the mother and children, and, as it was thought, the necessary documents for that purpose were collected and arranged. After the trial had proceeded, however, for a short time, the attorney for the defendants discovered a defect in the testimony on this point; the necessary papers, duly authenticated by the Governor or Chief Justice of Delaware, were missing, and without them it was impossible to make out the case. The fact was immediately communicated to Thomas Shipley—he saw that the papers must be had, and that they could not be procured without a visit to Dover, in Delaware. He at once determined to repair thither in person, and obtain them. Without the knowledge of the claimant's counsel, who might have taken advantage of the omission, and hurried the case to a decision; he started on the evening of the sixth day, and traveled as fast as possible to Dover, in the midst of a season unusually cold and inclement. On the next morning inquiries were made in all directions for friend Shipley; it was thought strange that he should desert his post in the midst of so exciting and momentous a trial, and at a time when his presence seemed to be particularly required. The counsel for the prisoners, who were aware of his movements, proceeded with the examination of witnesses as slowly as possible, in order to allow time for procuring this important link in the chain of testimony, and thus to procrastinate the period when they should be called upon to sum up the case.

Fortunately, on the evening of the day on which Thomas Shipley set out upon his journey, it was proposed to adjourn, and farther proceedings were postponed until Second day morning. At the meeting of the court, in the morning, the expected messenger was not there, and the ingenuity of the counsel was taxed still farther to procrastinate the important period. After three hours had been consumed in debate upon legal points, he, who was so anxiously looked for, came hurrying through the crowd, making his way toward the bench. His countenance and his movements soon convinced the wondering spectators that he was the bearer of gratifying news, and in a few minutes, the mystery of his absence was revealed, by the production of a document which was the fruit of his effort. The papers completely established the legal title of the mother and children to their freedom, and placed them out of the reach of further persecution. An attack of illness was the result of the extreme exertion and fatigue endured by this devoted man, in his earnest advocacy of the rights of these friendless beings.

The freedom of the husband and father, was, however, still in jeopardy. If the decision of the court should be against him, he would be torn from the bosom of his now joyful and emancipated family, and consigned to a life of bondage. To avert this calamity, the counsel for the prisoner suggested an expedient as humane as it was ingenious. He proposed that a writ of certiorari which would oblige the judge to remove the case to the Supreme Court and a habeas corpus from the Chief Justice of the State, should both be in readiness when the decision of the judge should be pronounced, in case that if it should be unfavorable, the writs might be at once served, and the prisoner remanded to the sheriff of the county, to be brought up before the Supreme Court at Trenton for another trial.

To procure these writs, it was necessary to obtain the signature of the chief justice of New Jersey, who resided at Newark, and again Thomas Shipley was ready to enter with alacrity into the service. He saw the importance of the measure, and that it would require prompt action, inasmuch as the decision of the judge would probably be pronounced on the following day. It fortunately happened that a friend was just about leaving for Newark, in his own conveyance, and feeling an interest in the case, he kindly invited friend Shipley to accompany him. They left in the afternoon, traveled all night, and arrived at Newark by daylight the following morning. The weary traveler was unwilling, however, to retire to bed, although the night was exceedingly cold and tempestuous, but he proceeded at once to the house of the chief justice. He called the worthy judge from his bed, offering the importance of his business, and the necessity of speedy action, as an apology for so unseasonable a visit. Chief Justice Hornblower, on being informed of the circumstances of the case, expressed his pleasure at having it in his power to accede to his wishes and treated him with a respect and kindness which the disinterested benevolence of his mission was calculated to inspire.

Having obtained the necessary papers, he left at once for Mount Holly, where he arrived on the following day, in time to place the writs in the hands of the sheriff, just before the decision of Judge H. was pronounced. Had he consulted his ease or convenience, and deferred his visit to Newark a few hours, or had he, as most men, under similar circumstances would have done, reposed his weary limbs, after a cold and dreary ride of eighty miles, in order to enable him to return with renewed strength, he would have arrived too late to render this meritorious effort effectual. As it was, he was there in time. The judge, according to the expectation of the friends of the colored man, gave his decision in favor of the slave-holders, and ordered poor Alexander to be given up to the tender mercies of the exasperated claimant. The decision sent a thrill of indignation through the anxious and excited multitude, which perhaps, was never equalled amongst the inhabitants of that quiet town. The friends of humanity had assembled from all parts of the country to witness the proceedings in the case. Many of them were personally acquainted with the prisoner; they knew him to be a man of intelligence and integrity; he was an industrious and orderly citizen, and was universally respected in the neighborhood. He was now about to be made a slave, and was declared to be the property of another. The father was about to be torn from his helpless children; the husband in defiance of the Divine command, was to be wrested from the fond embrace of his sorrowing wife, to spend his days in misery and toil. And this was to be done before the eyes of those who had a just regard for human rights, a hearty hatred of oppression. Is it wonderful, that under such circumstances, there should have been a deep abhorrence for the perpetrators of this outrage upon humanity, and a general sympathy for the innocent captive?

But it was decreed that those feelings of honest indignation should be speedily supplanted by the warm outpouring of public gratitude and joy. While the feeling of the spectators was in this state of intense interest and excitement, the judge, stern and inflexible in his purposes, and the clan of greedy claimants ready to seize upon their prey, the sheriff produced his writ of certiorari and handed it to the court. It was instantly returned, and the judge who sat unmoved, by a scene to which he was not unaccustomed, and conceiving, perhaps, that his official dignity was impugned, persisted in his determination that the prisoner should be handed over to the claimant. The prudence and foresight of Thomas Shipley and his friends had provided, however, for this anticipated difficulty. Happily for the prisoner, he was yet embraced under the provision of that constitution, which secured to him the protection of a habeas corpus, and this threw around him a shield which his enemies could not penetrate. A writ of habeas corpus, signed by the chief justice of the State and demanding the body of the prisoner, before the Supreme Court at its next term, was now produced!

The astonished judge found himself completely foiled. He had exercised his authority to its utmost limit, in support of the claims of his slave-holding friends, and had given the influence of his station and character, to bolster up the "patriarchal institution;" but it was all in vain. Just as they supposed they had achieved a victory, they were obliged with fallen crests, to succumb to the dictates of a higher tribunal, and to see their victim conveyed beyond their reach in the safe keeping of the sheriff.

In the Third month, (March,) the case was brought up before the Supreme Court for final adjudication. In the meantime, Thomas Shipley adopted vigorous measures to have the facts collected and arranged. He procured the aid of an intelligent and humane friend of the cause, who resided near Trenton, to attend, personally to the case, and secured the legal services of Theodore Frelinghuysen, well known as one of the most gifted and virtuous statesmen of the age, and as a warm and zealous friend of the oppressed. Under these happy auspices, the case came before the Supreme Court, and gave rise to a highly interesting and important argument; in which the distinguished Frelinghuysen appeared as the disinterested advocate of the prisoner, and urged upon the court his claim to liberty, under the laws of New Jersey, in a speech which was one of his most brilliant and eloquent efforts, and added another to the many laurels which his genius and philanthropy have achieved.