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heroic acts, may we vow fidelity to the principles he so long and faithfully maintained, and prove to the world that he hath not lived in vain. And as he says "quiet," who knows better than all else besides, we need it. For about twenty-nine years, in this country, there has been a constant strife and turmoil over the wrongs of the negro. The words "tired" and "quiet," seem suggestive, if not mandatory, to this nation, and to us, the negro race, who were his constant care. He seems to say the world has been disturbed sufficiently for this time; quiet will bring us calm, deliberate reflection; in it we may educate and contemplate those peaceful, powerful weapons, argument, logic, and truth, by which he has achieved such glorious victories for us. That God has greatly endowed us with them ourselves, he has observed in his intercourse and friendship with our Douglass, Garnet, Langston, Downing, Wormley. Philis Wheatley, Francis E. W Harper, Payne, Gaines,Turner, and last, perhaps greatest, Elliott, with many others we could name. He seems to say, too, that he will rest quietly in the bosom of free Massachusetts soil, at lovely Mount Auburn cemetery; we, in the bosom and brains of living, progressive America, until the time when the schools, colleges and seminaries shall send us forth to illustrate the wisdom of universal liberty and equality. Defend her institutions and our rights, for truly Mr. Sumner's examples and ways of living were like God's—pleasantness and peace. Other noble spirits led us in war; we had gallant Shaw, Higinson, Butler, and others, brave and generous; but our Sumner, by precept and example, was eminently a prince of peace; for, though ruthlessly stricken down by the hand of a foe, when in after days he spoke, it was of the barbarism of slavery, the system under which the man was bred, but nothing against the man. Personally, he spoke to me on several occasions uncompromisingly against the dreadful system, but always kindly toward the Southern people who practiced it.
But he has gone hence; he rests where they bore his stately remains yesterday, Mount Auburn, the place of sepulchre in the old Bay State—his native State —of which he said to me: "Naturally she produces for commerce only granite and ice; yet, by energy and industry, is made to bloom as bright as Eden." Often may we make pilgrimages, I trust, to the golden spot where he
