American Republic and rendered it a hiss and a byword among the sisterhood of nations. He lived to see his country's press unmuzzled, the pulpit unshackled, the judiciary washed from the foul stain of Taney's infamous decision; yes, he lived to see the whip dropped from the hand of the overseer. The bloodhound no longer hunts the fugitive slave in the mangrove swamps of the Mississippi; the hammer of the auctioneer of negroes struck for the last time on his platform, and its hateful sound has died into eternal silence.

He lived to see the flag washed and cleansed, until to-day it is the gem among national emblems, until to-day the stars represent the stars of heaven, the blue the blue vaulted sky, the white the high and lofty Christian civilization, the red the blood of the various nationalities which were spilled upon the fields of carnage to maintain and uphold the principles of justice, equality and truth. Yes, he lived to see the slave pens abolished and in their stead planted the school houses; he lived to see the auction blocks swept away and Christian pulpits planted in their places; he lived to see the day when the barbarous and inhuman voice of overseer and auctioneer was hushed into eternal silence; and from the ice-bound coast of New England, across the tobacco fields of Maryland and Virginia, the rice and pine swamps of the Carolinas, the cotton patches of Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Arkansas, Texas and Louisiana, the tread of the slave shall be heard no more.

What means this great outpouring to-day? This great throng speaks in mute language, symbolizing in letters A. P. G., which when explained mean "American Prejudice Going." What means this distinguished gathering, among which are to be found senators from the halls of Congress and judges from the Supreme Bench of the United States Judiciary, gentlemen who occupy high places in the list of fame? It is the strongest evidence of the high and spotless character of him whom we mourn, our champion, our defender, our friend, our countryman. He is not dead, he sleeps. When the historians shall write concerning the greatness of the nineteenth century, they will speak of Mr. Douglass, his virtues which the hard experiences of early life had strengthened in him; of his sincerity and simplicity; of his manly frankness and self-respect; of his large, humane and tender sympathies; of his self-control and good temper; of his truthfulness and sturdy honesty.

Farewell, fearless defender, bold and courageous champion, manly man, true friend, peerless leader, farewell, farewell.

Mr. Moses Hodges, of Boston, then sang Mendelssohn's "Oh, Rest in the Lord;" after which Miss Susan B. Anthony read the following tribute from Elizabeth Cady Stanton, who was unable to be present; as also the letter from Mr. Bonney.

[ELIZABETH CADY STANTON'S LETTER.]

Taking up the morning Tribune, the first words that caught my eye thrilled my very soul. "Frederick Doulgass is dead!" What vivid memories thick and fast flashed through my mind and held me spellbound in contemplation of the long years since first we met.

Trained in the severe school of slavery, I saw him first before a Boston audience, fresh from the land of bondage. He stood there like an African prince, conscious of his dignity and power, grand in his physical proportions, majestic in his wrath, as with keen wit, satire and indignation he portrayed the bitterness of slavery, the humiliation of subjection to those who in all human virtues and capacities were inferior to himself. His denunciation of our national crime, of the wild and guilty fantasy that men could hold property in man, poured like a torrent that fairly made his hearers tremble.

Thus I first saw him, and wondered as I listened that any mortal man should have ever tried to subjugate a being with such marvelous powers, such self-respect, such intense love of liberty.

Around him sat the great anti-slavery orators of the day, watching his effect on that immense audience, completely magnetized with his eloquence, laughing and crying by turns with his rapid flights from pathos to humor. All other speakers seemed tame after Douglass. Sitting near, I heard Phillips say to Lydia Maria Child: "Verily, this boy, who has only just graduated from the 'southern institution' (as slavery was called), throws us all in the shade." "Ah," she replied, "the iron has entered his soul and he knows the wrongs of slavery subjectively; the rest of you speak only from an objective point of view."

He used to preach a sermon in imitation of the Methodist clergy, from the text, "Servants, Obey your Masters," which the people were never tired of hearing. Often after he had spoken an hour shouts would go up from all parts of the house, "Now, Douglass, give us the sermon. Some of our literary critics pronounced that the best piece of satire in the English language.

The last time I visited his home in Anacostia, I asked him if he ever had the sermon printed. He said "No." "Could you reproduce it?" said I. He said, "No; I could not bring back the old feeling if I tried, and I would not if I could. The blessings of liberty I have so long enjoyed, and the many tender friendships I have with the Saxon race on both sides of the ocean, have taught me such sweet lessons of forgiveness that the painful memories of my early days are almost obliterated, and I would not recall them.''

As an orator, writer and editor, Douglass holds an honored place among the gifted men of his day. As a man of business and a public officer he has been pre-eminently successful; honest and upright in all his dealings, he bears an enviable reputation.

As a husband, father, neighbor and friend, in all social relations, he has been faithful and steadfast to the end. He was the only man I ever knew who understood the degradation of disfranchisement for women. Through all the long years of our struggle he has been a familiar figure on our platform, with always an inspiring word to say. In the very first convention he helped me to carry the resolution I had penned, demanding woman suffrage.

Frederick Douglass is not dead! His grand character will long be an object lesson in our national history; his lofty sentiments of liberty, justice and equality, echoed on every platform over our broad land, must influence and inspire many coming generations!

(Signed):

ELIZABETH CADY STANTON,

26 West Sixty-first street, New York.

February 21, 1895.

[MR. C. C. BONNEY'S LETTER.]

DEAR MISS ANTHONY :

Other duties will prevent me from attending the funeral of Frederick Douglass, but I am glad to express, in compliance with your request, my high appreciation of his character and career. He was the most eminent representative of his race, and the most eloquent prophecy of the splendid civilization that is destined to fill all the Dark Continent with its light.

Rising, through his own heroic efforts, from the condition of slavery to the lofty position of the acknowledged leadership of his race in the New World; and finally winning, by his ability, courage and highminded course of action, the respect and admiration of those who were, at the outset, intensely hostile to his aspirations and claims, Frederick Douglass deserves to live in the history of representative men as one of the noblest examples of the triumph of man over the most adverse conditions.

I therefore honor his memory and send you this tribute to his worth. With high respect and kind regards,

MISS SUSAN B. ANTHONY,

National Council of Women.

Very sincerely yours,

C. C. BONNEY.

Mrs. May Wright Sewell then spoke, in substance, as follows:

I experience a feeling of great diffidence in standing before an audience wherein are gathered so many of the early friends and so many of

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the later companions, if one may not say peers, of the man whose death we are met to mourn, whose career we are met to honor. The words written on one occasion by Daniel Webster, when he was asked to inscribe his name in a book that held the autographs of many wise and great persons, force themselves upon my lips now:

"If by this name I write my own

'Twill take me where I am not known.

The cold salute will meet my ear,

'Pray, stranger, how did you come here?' "'

In answer to this inquiry, which I see upon the faces of many, I must say that I stand here by virtue of two claims. The first is small and personal. For many years, I have enjoyed the friendship of Frederick Douglass. The second is large and universal. I stand here summoned by the family of Frederick Douglass to speak for a constituency in which he believed. I come as the representative of the National Council, in which Frederick Douglass spent his last day on earth. What brought him to us in a business session was his sense of the solidarity of human interests. As I saw him moving with the majesty of a king down the aisle, with every eye fixed upon him, I thought, "There moves a page of history, an epic poem, a tragedy:" (for there is no sublimity without the elements of tragedy). He seemed a monolith rising up to remind us of the past and to point us to the future. We never know in what field we shall reap. When Frederick Douglass began to sow for the freedom of one-half of one race, he little thought the harvest of that sowing was to be reaped in the freedom of the other half of two races; in the emancipation of women from fixed and false opinions. In every field where civilization is known, has been reaped a harvest from his sowing.

Many times during these solemn services, Frederick Douglass has been referred to as the "hero of a race" with the evident restriction of the word "race" to the colored people. His record is a glory to the colored race, but it must not at this hour be forgotten that through his veins there flowed a mingled strain of blood. The white race as well as the black has been uplifted by his career. It is the whole race human, not the fractional race African, to which he belonged, and the annals of which will be illuminated by the splendid record of his life. I come to lay on the bier of him we love and honor a crown of laurel and palms. The laurel is from an old tree still standing on the estate on which he was born. So one sees that before Frederick Douglass was born, in Maryland, a tree had been planted there which was destined ultimately to furnish forth his crown when his earthly warfare should end in victory. Can any of us doubt that, before he entered this plain of existence through the humble avenue of a slave mother, there was also planted a tree by the River of Life, which shall furnish forth leaves for his crown in the world that he has just entered? If we

mourn because our little world is made smaller by his departure, we also rejoice knowing that another world is made larger by his arrival.

A letter was then read from Rev. Francis J. Grimké, D. D., who was unable to be present on account of the death of his mother.

Rev. Anna Shaw offered the closing prayer, giving thanks that out of the infinite heart of love the world had been given "this peerless voice, this great heart, this loving and noble soul."

Bishop Williams, of the C. M. E. Church, then pronounced the benediction.

At the close of the services the remains of Mr. Douglass, under the escort of the active pall-bearers, detailed from the letter-carriers, were conveyed to the depot of the Baltimore and Potomac Railroad, and, with the family of the deceased, together with General John A. Eaton, ex-Commissioner of Education, and Professor George W. Cook, delegates from Howard University, and Rev. J. I. Shelcutt, of the Asbury Methodist Church, were taken on the evening train to Rochester, N. Y., where they were received with civic honors; and thus, crowned with years and laurels and usefulness and memories, of which the sweet overshadowed the bitter, Frederick Douglass passed out of the bondage of earthly existence, into the freedom of spiritual life.