which a gallant soul would feel. You may speak of the magnanimity and courage of Harriet Martineau; but the first element is her rectitude of purpose, by which was born that true instinct which saw through all things. We have had Englishmen come here, who were clear-sighted enough to say true words after they returned home; but this was a woman who was welcomed by crowds in the South, and about whom a glamour was thrown to prevent her from seeing the truth. It is easy to be independent when all behind you agree with you, but the difficulty comes when nine hundred and ninety-nine of your friends think you wrong. Then it is the brave soul who stands up, one among a thousand, but remembering that one with God makes a majority. This was Harriet Martineau. She was surrounded by doctors of divinity, who were hedging her about with their theories and beliefs. What do some of these later travellers who have been here know of the real New England, when they have been seated in sealed houses, and gorged with the glittering banquets of social societies? Harriet Martineau, instead of lingering in the camps of the Philistines, could, with courage, declare, 'I'll go among the abolitionists, and see for myself.' Shortly after the time of the State-street mob, she came to Cambridge; and her hosts there begged her not to put her hand into their quarrels. The abolitionists held a meeting there. The only hall of that day open to them was owned by infidels. Think of that, ye friends of Christianity. And yet the infidelity of that day is the Christianity of to-day. To this meeting in this hall Miss Martineau went, to express her entire sympathy with the occasion. As a result of her words and deeds, such was the lawlessness of that time, that she had to turn back from her intended journey to the West, and was assured that she would be lynched if she dared set foot in Ohio. She gave up her journey, but not her principles.

"Harriet Martineau saw, not merely the question of free speech,

but the grandeur of the great movement just then opened. This great movement is second only to the Reformation in the history of the English and the German race. In time to come, when the grandeur of this movement is set forth in history, you will see its grand and beneficial results. Harriet Martineau saw it fifty years ago, and after that she was one of us. She was always the friend of the poor. Prisoner, slave, worn out by toil in the mill, no matter who the sufferer, there was always one person who could influence Tory and Liberal to listen. Americans, I ask you to welcome to Boston this statue of Harriet Martineau, because she was the greatest American abolitionist. We want our children to see the woman who came to observe, and remained to work, and, having once put her hand to the plough, persevered until she was allowed to live where the pean of the emancipated four millions went up to heaven, showing the attainment of her great desire."

How many that listened to these noble words dreamed that they were to be the last which Wendell Phillips, the defender of equal rights and equal burdens for all men and women under the law, would ever utter in public? The heart that had so long beat for others, the silvery voice that had so long spoken for the suffering and oppressed, the perfect manhood that had so long existed for the good of all humanity, now felt the weight of years, and were already weakening beneath the pressure.

The new year came; but it brought only misgivings, the full meaning of which Mr. Phillips seems now to have interpreted rightly. On Saturday evening, Feb.

2, at quarter-past six o'clock, the great orator passed from earth.

He had been seriously ill, only since the Saturday of the previous week. On the morning of that day he was seized with an attack of heart disease. A physician was promptly summoned, who pronounced the trouble to be angina pectoris, — the same malady which had brought Charles Sumner to his grave, and which, having caused the death of Mr. Phillips's father and three brothers, was greatly dreaded by the friends and relatives of the orator.

The disease made rapid progress. He was confined to his bed on Sunday, suffering terrible pains; and his physician, Dr. Thayer, was called to the house no less than four times. By well-directed efforts the patient appeared to rally, and hopes were entertained of his recovery. But on Wednesday came a relapse, so seri ous in its nature that constant medical attendance became necessary. On Thursday, the 31st inst., Mr. Phillips's condition was exceedingly critical; and at midnight it was thought that he would not survive until morning. Again he rallied, however, but with only temporary relief. The exertion of moving in bed taxed him severely, and renewed paroxysms of pain, which necessitated the employment of anæsthetics.

No one now doubted that the end was approaching: even the patient realized this fact. When the doctor told him the probable result, he replied,