modestly did her duty according to the light given her, believing that the toilers of the world are the world's masters.

The study of philosophy, theology, and history was her pleasure; to do right her religion.

An earnest seeker of truth, she could not accept unsupported dogmas. For her the unknown future had no terrors, since hers was that larger faith that trusted all to the unseen.

THOMAS P. GALVIN.

The death, on the 8th of April last, of THOMAS P. GALVIN, of Germantown, Pa., following a brief illness, was to his friends a shock of sudden bereavement, scarcely lessened in its sadness by the remembrance that his life had spanned almost eighty years.

Yet there was comfort in the thought that he ended his journey "just as an olive falls when it is ripe." Well might he do it in content, for he had lived "conformably to nature" in his observance of the laws of physical and moral health; he had done, year by year, much for the help and happiness of others; he had taken cheerfully and borne manfully whatsoever had come upon him of care and trial; he had walked for three years wanting the dear companionship of her who for more than half a century had been by his side, strong in faith and love to make the rough places smooth; he knew that she could not return to him, save in spirit-trysts, and should not he long to go to her?

And so he departed, to be of those who make home-like the Unknown to us who still remain upon this shoal of time, until our own change come.

The character of MR. GALVIN, strong in native elements, was shaped and compacted, by severe duties and self-disciplines, to fair proportions and moral solidity. He had in himself the law of righteousness, a firm rectitude to which men could safely tie.

But, although his conscience made him a simple moral hero, steady and fearless in the right, as it was given him to see the right, yet the warm currents of his impulsive nature softened the exactions of his sense of duty into generous flow of human sympathy. His very prejudices, and whatever was in him of opinionativeness, gave way before the rushing tides of fellow-feeling, which made him the friend and comrade of all sorts and conditions of men.

To the Friends of this meeting, whose yearly festival so often brought him here, his traits of mind and heart are too well known to need recalling. No intellectual question here raised, no social reform proposed, no religious advancement dared, no practical endeavor undertaken on lines of ethical and humanitarian progress ever wanted the keenness of his thought, the ardor of his spirit, or the help of his hand.

Intensely alive to the aspirations and practical meanings of the liberal faith, he could not be held by the programs of its monopolist missionaries. His nature was radical in that it jealously loved all rooted life and fact in this world, and demanded for everything its right to exist and grow.

He was perfectly fearless in thought, word, and deed,— unmindful of convention where he found it blocking for him the way to truth and artless dealing with it,-yet magnanimity made in him ample room for the varying moods and motives of men, and he would rather abdicate his own privilege than infringe another's right. He had sturdy strength. and vigorous blows for defence of his own conviction, but yet stronger arm to maintain the just cause of those who suffered wrong.

To his last days on earth these powers of manhood were not abated, and it was 'one of the acts of life" by which he died. So dying, men live on "in minds made better by their presence."

EMMA M. STONER.

EMMA M. STONER has passed from the mortal life since our last Yearly Meeting. She was a beautiful character! A lovely presence! One who, as we saw her, filled with tenderness, devotion, and dignity all the domestic and social relations.

Her ideals of life and society were elevated. She met her responsibilities and duties with a fine sense of the value of faithfulness and integrity in their discharge.

For many years she had manifested an earnest sympathy with the ideas to which the Progressive Friends bear testimony. Whatever broadened, refined, lifted the human being met her heartiest approval. Though gone from our sight, her influence lives to help and bless those whom she loved here, and a wide circle beyond that of her own home as well.

MR. HINCKLEY said: The years which roll around are constantly bringing new sorrows and new partings. When first called upon to preside over this meeting, I had filled the chair but a few moments when I noticed a face in the audience which seemed full of life and interest in the proceedings. Every year since, THOMAS P. GALVIN has been with us, always alert and interested in the topics under consideration, and always contributing liberally to the support of these meetings. He was filled with that spirit of kindness which is always so beautiful. We no longer see his pleasant countenance, no longer grasp his hand, no longer feel his warm heart-throbs. I sat at his table one Sunday a few weeks before his death. A mirthful party we were indeed, and he, old as he was, one of the most mirthful. To us, who have known him well, his place cannot soon be filled. It is indeed a privilege to have come into relations with a character so earnest and a heart so true.

Then, too, AUNT PHOEBE WAY, what a vacant place she has left in this company! How now we recall her sincerity of manner and her intensity of interest in great themes! Remembering these dear friends, who have joined during the last

year the company of our saints, most beautiful and appropriate seem to us Chadwick's lines:

"More home-like seems the great unknown,

Since they have entered there;

To follow them were not so hard,

Wherever they may fare."

The SWAYNE FAMILY then favored the meeting with a beautiful song, appropriate to the thought of the hour.

J. L. JONES was then appointed a committee of one to carry the resolutions relative to the Columbian Exposition to the directors thereof.

A fine address was then given by MRS. ABBIE MORTON DIAZ, upon "Life, and what it is to Live."

The testimony on Suffrage was then adopted, as follows: Governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed, and those who obey laws should have a voice in their enactment. But suffrage implies the exercise of a rational choice in regard to principles, measures, and men. Citizens, either women or men, who from extreme ignorance and illiteracy are incapable of expressing an intelligent opinion on public questions, cannot benefit themselves or others by voting. It is their duty to qualify themselves to vote by learning to read and write.

The great and growing evil of illiterate suffrage demands on the part of the state the requirement of an educational qualification, coupled with the supply of facilities for gratuitous instruction.

By nomination of the Chair, DEBORAH PENNOCK was elected member of the Memorial Committee to succeed ANNA R. Cox. The committee on auditing the Treasurer's account reported the account correct, and a balance of eight dollars and three cents in the treasury.

MR. HINCKLEY congratulated the meeting upon the large amount of good discussion and new thought which had been brought out, and. hoped during the coming year our lives

might be a little brighter and more cheerful because we had been here.

The regular sessions of the meeting were then adjourned.

FIRST DAY.-Morning Session.

A religious service was held, conducted by MR. HINCKLEY. The subject of his discourse was "Spiritual Awakening."

FIRST DAY.-Afternoon Session.

Addresses were made by JENKIN LLOYD JONES, CHARLES D. B. MILLS, and GERTRUDE MAGILL. MR. JONES's discourse was as follows:

LESSONS FROM THE NIGHT-BLOOMING CEREUS.

"Thou hast visited me in the night."

One Sunday evening, nearly fifteen years ago,-how well I remember it!-as the last lingering rays of the departing day were pencilling with beauty the western horizon, while the shadows were deepening into gloom, and the great Mother Nature was snugly tucking in the darkness around all objects, as the maternal anxiety in human households tucks the blanket around the sleepy children, I was aimlessly walking, trying to pump the blood out of a surcharged brain into two indolent limbs. They were moments of extreme fatigue and mental unrest. My steps were heavy as my thoughts were dull; the heart-strings were a little out of tune, as were the nerves. This, perhaps, was an inevitable condition in the physical equilibrium. A tired soldier is, to say the least, always half a coward. An empty stomach breeds scepticism, and a weary brain prepares the way to distrust of past efforts, a dissatisfaction with present attainment, and an unprophetic estimate of future possibilities. In this condition, unfit for companionship, unwholesome for society, I plodded along, placidly waiting for the refreshing shower and the quickening warmth that somehow I knew would surely visit my spirit