The recent death of Thomas Garrett, called forth from the press, as well as from abolitionists and personal friends, such universal expressions of respect for his labors as a philanthropist, and especially as an unswerving friend of the Underground Rail Road, that we need only reproduce selections therefrom, in order to commemorate his noble deeds in these pages.

From the “Wilmington Daily Commercial,” published by Jenkins and Atkinson (men fully inspired with the spirit of impartial freedom), we copy the following notice, which is regarded by his relatives and intimate anti-slavery friends as a faithful portraiture of his character and labors:

Thomas Garrett, who died full of years and honor, this morning, at the ripe age of eighty-one, was a man of no common character. He was an abolitionist from his youth up, and though the grand old cause numbered amongst its supporters, poets, sages, and statesmen, it had no more faithful worker in its ranks than Thomas Garrett.

He has been suffering for several years, from a disease of the bladder, which frequently caused him most acute anguish, and several times threatened his life. The severe pain attending the disease, and the frequent surgical operations it rendered necessary, undermined his naturally strong constitution, so that when he was prostrated by his last illness, grave fears were entertained of a fatal result. He continued in the possession of his faculties to the last, and frequently expressed his entire willingness to die.

Yesterday he was found to be sinking very rapidly. Just before midnight, last night, he commenced to speak, and some of those in attendance, went close to his bed-side. He was evidently in some pain, and said: “It is all peace, peace, peace, but no rest this side of the river.” He then breathed calmly on for some time. About half an hour later, one of those in attendance ceased to hear his breathing, and bending over him, found that his soul had fled.

He retained a good deal of his strength through his illness, and was able to get up from his bed, every day, with the assistance of one person.

He will be buried in the Friends’ grave-yard, corner of Fourth and West Streets, on Saturday next, at three o’clock, P.M., and in accordance with a written memorandum of an agreement made by him a year ago with them, the colored people will bear him to his grave, they having solicited of him that honor.

He was born of Quaker parents, in Upper Darby, Delaware county, Pa., on the 21st of August, 1789, on a farm still in the possession of the family. His father, though a farmer, had been a scythe and edge-tool maker, and Thomas learned of him the trade, and his knowledge of it afterwards proved of the utmost advantage to him.

He grew up and married at Darby, his wife being Sarah Sharpless, and in 1820 they came to Wilmington to live, bringing with them several children, most of whom still live here.

Some years after his arrival here, his wife died, and in course of time, he again married, his second wife being Rachel Mendenhall, who died in April, 1868, beloved and regretted by all who knew her.

His business career was one of vicissitude, but generally and ultimately successful, for he made the whole of the comfortable competence of which he died possessed, after he was sixty years of age. While in the beginning of his business career, as an iron merchant in this city, a wealthy rival house attempted to crush him, by reducing prices of iron to cost, but Mr. Garrett, nothing dismayed, employed another person to attend his store, put on his leather apron, took to his anvil, and in the prosecution of his trade, as an edge-tool maker, prepared to support himself as long as this ruinous rivalry was kept up. Thus in the sweat of the brow of one of the heroes and philanthropists of this age, was laid the foundation of one of the most extensive business houses that our city now boasts. His competitor saw that no amount of rivalry could crush a man thus self-supporting and gave up the effort.

Of course, Thomas Garrett is best known for his labors in behalf of the abolition of Slavery, and as a practical and effective worker for emancipation long before the nation commenced the work of liberation and justice.

Born a Quaker, he held with simple trust, the faith of the society that God moves and inspires men to do the work he requires of their hands, and throughout his life he never wavered in his conviction, that his Father had called him to work in the cause to which he devoted himself.

His attention was first directed to the iniquity of Slavery, while he was a young man of twenty-four or twenty five. He returned one day to his father’s house, after a brief absence, and found the family dismayed and indignant at the kidnapping of a colored woman in their employ.

Thomas immediately resolved to follow the kidnappers, and so started in pursuit. Some peculiarity about the track made by their wagon, enabled him to trace them with ease, and he followed them by a devious course, from Darby, to a place near the Navy Yard, in Philadelphia, and then by inquiries, etc., tracked them to Kensington, where he found them, and, we believe, secured the woman’s release.

During this ride, he afterwards assured his friends, he felt the iniquity and abomination of the whole system of Slavery borne in upon his mind so strongly, as to fairly appal him, and he seemed to hear a voice within him, assuring him that his work in life must be to help and defend this persecuted race.

From this time forward, he never failed to assist any fugitive from Slavery on the way to freedom, and, of course, after his removal to this city, his opportunities for this were greatly increased, and in course of time, his house became known as one of the refuges for fugitives. The sentiment of this community was, at that time, bitterly averse to any word or effort against Slavery, and Mr. Garrett had but half a dozen friends who stood by him. Nearly all others looked at him with suspicion, or positive aversion, and his house was constantly under the surveillance of the police, who then, sad to say, were always on the watch for any fugitives from bondage. Thomas was not disheartened or dismayed by the lack of popular sympathy or approval. He believed the Lord was on his side, and cared nothing for the adverse opinion of men.

Many and interesting stories are told of the men and women he helped away, some of them full of pathos, and some decidedly amusing. He told the latter which related to his ingenious contrivances for assisting fugitives to escape the police with much pleasure, in his later years. We would repeat many of them, but this is not the time or place. The necessity of avoiding the police was the only thing, however, which ever forced him into any secrecy in his operations, and in all other respects he was “without concealment and without compromise” in his opposition to Slavery. He was a man of unusual personal bravery, and of powerful physique, and did not present an encouraging object for the bullying intimidation by which the pro-slavery men of that day generally overawed their opponents. He seems to have scarcely known what fear was, and though irate slave-holders often called on him to learn the whereabouts of their slaves, he met them placidly, never denied having helped the fugitives on their way, positively refused to give them any information, and when they flourished pistols, or bowie-knives to enforce their demands, he calmly pushed the weapons aside, and told them that none but cowards resorted to such means to carry their ends.

He continued his labors, thus, for years, helping all who came to him, and making no concealment of his readiness to do so. His firmness and courage slowly won others, first to admire, and then to assist him, and the little band of faithful workers, of which he was chief, gradually enlarged and included in its number, men of all ranks, and differing creeds, and, singular as it may seem, even numbering some ardent Democrats in its ranks. He has, in conversation with the present writer and others, frequently acknowledged the valuable services of two Roman Catholics, of Irish birth, still living in this city, who were ever faithful to him, and will now be amongst those who most earnestly mourn his decease.

His efforts, of course, brought him much persecution and annoyance, but never culminated in anything really serious, until about the year 1846 or ’47.

He then met, at New Castle, a man, woman, and six children, from down on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. The man was free, the woman had, been a slave, and while in Slavery had had by her husband, two children. She was then set free, and afterwards had four children. The whole party ran away. They traveled several days, and finally reached Middletown, late at night, where they were taken in, fed and cared for, by John Hunn, a wealthy Quaker, there. They were watched, however, by some persons in that section, who followed them, arrested them, and sent them to New Castle to jail. The sheriff and his daughter were Anti-slavery people, and wrote to Mr. Garrett to come over. He went over, had an interview, found from their statement, that four of the party were undoubtedly free, and returned to this city. On the following day, he and U.S. Senator Wales, went over and had the party taken before Judge Booth, on a writ of habeas corpus. Judge Booth decided that there was no evidence on which to hold them, that in the absence of evidence the presumption was always in favor of freedom and discharged them.

Mr. Garrett then said, here is this woman with a babe at her breast, the child suffering from a white swelling on its leg, is there any impropriety in my getting a carriage and helping them over to Wilmington? Judge Booth responded certainly not.

Mr. Garrett then hired the carriage, but gave the driver distinctly to understand that he only paid for the woman and the young children; the rest might walk. They all got in, however, and finally escaped, of course the two children born in slavery amongst the rest.

Six weeks afterwards the slave-holders followed them, and incited, it is said, by the Cochrans and James A. Bayard, commenced a suit against Mr. Garrett, claiming all the fugitives as slaves. Mr. Garrett’s friends claim that the jury was packed to secure an adverse verdict. The trial came on before Chief Justice Taney and Judge Hall, in the May term (1848) of the U.S. Court, sitting at New Castle, Bayard representing the prosecutors, and Wales the defendant. There were four trials in all, lasting three days. We have not room here for the details of the trial, but the juries awarded even heavier damages than the plaintiffs claimed, and the judgments swept away every dollar of his property.

When the trials were concluded, Mr. Garrett arose, the court being adjourned, made a speech of an hour to the large crowd in the court-room, in the course of which he declared his intention to redouble his exertions, so help him God. His bold assertion was greeted with mingled cheers and hisses, and at the conclusion of his speech one of the jurors who had convicted him strode across the benches, grasped his hand, and begged his forgivenness.

Mr. Garrett kept his pledge and redoubled his exertions. The trial advertised him, and such was the demand on him for shelter, that he was compelled to put another story on his back buildings. His friends helped him to start again in business, and commencing anew in his sixtieth year with nothing, he again amassed a handsome competence, generously contributing all the while to every work in behalf of the down-trodden blacks or his suffering fellow-men of any color.

In time the war came, and as he remarked, the nation went into the business by the wholesale, so he quit his retail operations, having, after he commenced to keep a record, helped off over twenty-one hundred slaves, and no inconsiderable number before that time.

In time, too, he came to be honored instead of execrated for his noble efforts. Wilmington became an abolition city, and for once, at least, a prophet was not without honor in his own city. Mr. Garrett continued his interest in every reform up to his last illness, and probably his last appearance in any public capacity, was as president of a Woman Suffrage meeting, in the City Hall, a few months ago, which was addressed by Julia Ward Howe, Lucy Stone, and Henry B. Blackwell.

He lived to see the realization of his hopes for Universal Freedom, and in April last on the occasion of the great parade of the colored people in this city, he was carried through our streets in an open barouche, surrounded by the men in whose behalf he had labored so faithfully, and the guards around his carriage carrying banners, with the inscription, “Our Moses.”

A Moses he was to their race; but unto him it was given to enter into the promised land toward which he had set his face persistently and almost alone for more than half a century.

He was beloved almost to adoration by his dusky-hued friends, and in the dark days of the beginning of the war, which every Wilmingtonian will remember with a shudder, in those days of doubt, confusion, and suspicion, without his knowledge or consent, Thomas Garrett’s house was constantly surrounded and watched by faithful black men, resolved that, come weal come woe to them, no harm should come to the benefactor of their race.

He was a hero in a life-time fight, an upright, honest man in his dealings with men, a tender husband, a loving father, and above all, a man who loved his neighbor as himself, and righteousness and truth better than ease, safety, or worldly goods, and who never let any fear of harm to person or property sway him from doing his whole duty to the uttermost.

He was faithful among the faithless, upright and just in the midst of a wicked and perverse generation, and lived to see his labors rewarded and approved in his own life-time, and then with joy that the Right had triumphed by mightier means than his own; with thankfulness for the past, and with calm trust for the future, he passed to the reward of the just. He has fought a good fight, he has finished his course, he has kept the faith.

From the same paper, of January 30th, 1871, we extract an account of the funeral obsequies which took place on Saturday, January 28th.

FUNERAL SERVICE ON SATURDAY.

The funeral of Thomas Garrett, which took place on Saturday, partook almost of the character of a popular ovation to the memory of the deceased, though it was conducted with the plainness of form which characterizes the society of which he was a member.

There was no display, no organization, nothing whatever to distinguish this from ordinary funerals, except the outpouring of people of every creed, condition, and color, to follow the remains to their last resting-place.

There was for an hour or two before the procession started, a constant living stream of humanity passing into the house, around the coffin, and out at another door, to take a last look at the face of the deceased, the features of which displayed a sweetness and serenity which occasioned general remark. A smile seemed to play upon the dead lips.

Shortly after three o’clock the funeral procession started, the plain coffin, containing the remains, being carried by the stalwart arms of a delegation of colored men, and the family and friends of the deceased following in carriages with a large procession on foot, while the sidewalks along the line, from the house to the meeting-house, more than six squares, were densely crowded with spectators.

The Friends’ Meeting House was already crowded, except the place reserved for the relatives of the deceased, and, though probably fifteen hundred people crowded into the capacious building, a greater number still were unable to gain admission.

The crowd inside was composed of all kinds and conditions of men, white and black, all uniting to do honor to the character and works of the deceased.

The coffin was laid in the open space in front of the gallery of ministers and elders, and the lid removed from it, after which there was a period of silence.

Presently the venerable Lucretia Mott arose and said that, seeing the gathering of the multitude there and thronging along the streets, as she had passed on her way to the meeting-house, she had thought of the multitude which gathered after the death of Jesus, and of the remark of the Centurion, who, seeing the people, said: “Certainly this was a righteous man.” Looking at this multitude she would say surely this also was a righteous man. She was not one of those who thought it best always on occasions like this, to speak in eulogy of the dead, but this was not an ordinary case, and seeing the crowd that had gathered, and amongst it the large numbers of a once despised and persecuted race, for which the deceased had done so much, she felt that it was fit and proper that the good deeds of this man’s life should be remembered, for the encouragement of others. She spoke of her long acquaintance with him, of his cheerful and sunny disposition, and his firm devotion to the truth as he saw it.

Aaron M. Powell, of New York, was the next speaker, and he spoke at length with great earnestness of the life-long labor of his departed friend in the abolition cause, of his cheerfulness, his courage, and his perfect consecration to his work.

He alluded to the fact, that deceased was a member of the Society of Friends, and held firmly to its faith that God leads and inspires men to do the work He requires of them, that He speaks within the soul of every man, and that all men are equally His children, subject to His guidance, and that all should be free to follow wherever the Spirit might lead. It was Thomas Garrett’s recognition of this sentiment that made him an abolitionist, and inspired him with the courage to pursue his great work. He cared little for the minor details of Quakerism, but he was a true Quaker in his devotion to this great central idea which is the basis on which it rests. He urged the Society to take a lesson from the deceased, and recognizing the responsibility of their position, to labor with earnestness, and to consecrate their whole beings to the cause of right and reform. It is impossible for us to give any fair abstract of Mr. Powell’s earnest and eloquent tribute to his friend, on whom he had looked, he said, as “a Father in Israel” from his boyhood.

William Howard Day, then came forward, saying, he understood that it would not be considered inappropriate for one of his race to say a few words on this occasion, and make some attempt to pay a fitting tribute to one to whom they owed so much. He did not feel to-day like paying such a tribute, his grief was too fresh upon him, his heart too bowed down, and he could do no more, than in behalf of his race, not only those here, but the host the deceased has befriended, and of the whole four millions to whom he had been so true a friend, cast a tribute of praise and thanks upon his grave.

Rev. Alfred Cookman, of Grace M.E. Church, next arose, and said that he came there intending to say nothing, but the scene moved him to a few words. He remembered once standing in front of St. Paul’s Cathedral, in London, and seeing therein the name of the architect, Sir Christopher Wren, inscribed, and under it this inscription: “Stranger, if you would see his monument look about you.” And the thought came to him that if you would see the monument of him who lies there, look about you and see it built in stones of living hearts. He thanked God for the works of this man; he thanked Him especially for his noble character. He said that he felt that that body had been the temple of a noble spirit, aye the temple of God himself, and some day they would meet the spirit in the heavenly land beyond the grave.

Lucretia Mott arose, and said she feared the claim might appear to be made that Quakerism alone held the great central principle which dominated this man’s life; but she wished it understood that they recognized this “voice within” as leading and guiding all men, and they probably meant by it much the same as those differing from them meant by the Third person in their Trinity. She did not wish, even in appearance, to claim a belief in this voice for her own sect alone.

T. Clarkson Taylor then said, that the time for closing the services had arrived, and in a very few words commended the lesson of his life to those present, after which the meeting dissolved, and the body was carried to the grave-yard in the rear of the meeting-house, and deposited in its last resting-place.

In a letter addressed to one of the sons, William Lloyd Garrison pays the following beautiful and just tribute to his faithfulness in the cause of freedom.

BOSTON, January 25th, 1871.

MY DEAR FRIEND:—I have received the intelligence of the death of your honored and revered father, with profound emotions. If it were not for the inclemency of the weather, and the delicate state of my health, I would hasten to be at the funeral, long as the distance is; not indeed as a mourner, for, in view of his ripe old age, and singularly beneficent life, there is no cause for sorrow, but to express the estimation in which I held him, as one of the best men who ever walked the earth, and one of the most beloved among my numerous friends and co-workers in the cause of an oppressed and down-trodden race, now happily rejoicing in their heavenly-wrought deliverance. For to no one was the language of Job more strictly applicable than to himself:—”When the ear heard me, then it blessed me, and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me; because I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me; and I caused the widow’s heart to sing for joy. I put on righteousness, and it clothed me; my judgment was as a robe and a diadem. I was eyes to the blind, and feet was I to the lame. I was a father to the poor; and the cause which I knew not I searched out. And I brake the jaws of the wicked, and plucked the spoil out of his teeth.” This is an exact portraiture of your father, a most comprehensive delineation of his character as a philanthropist and reformer. It was his meat and drink.

“The poor to feed, the lost to seek,
To proffer life to death,
Hope to the erring, to the weak
The strength of his own faith.

“To plead the captive’s right; remove
The sting of hate from law;
And soften in the fire of love
The hardened steel of war.

“He walked the dark world in the mild,
Still guidance of the light;
In tearful tenderness a child,
A strong man in the right.”

Did there ever live one who had less of that “fear of man which bringeth a snare,” than himself? Or who combined more moral courage with exceeding tenderness of spirit? Or who adhered more heroically to his convictions of duty in the face of deadly peril and certain suffering? Or who gave himself more unreservedly, or with greater disinterestedness, to the service of bleeding humanity? Or who took more joyfully the spoiling of his goods as the penalty of his sympathy for the hunted fugitive? Or who more untiringly kept pace with all the progressive movements of the age, as though in the very freshness of adult life, while venerable with years? Or who, as a husband, father, friend, citizen, or neighbor, more nobly performed all the duties, or more generally distributed all the charities of life? He will leave a great void in the community. Such a stalwart soul appears only at rare intervals. Delaware, enslaved, treated him like a felon; Delaware, redeemed, will be proud of his memory.

“Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet and blossom in the dust.”

His rightful place is conspicuously among the benefactors, saviours, martyrs of the human race.

His career was full of dramatic interest from beginning to end, and crowded with the experiences and vicissitudes of a most eventful nature. What he promised he fulfilled; what he attempted, he seldom, or never failed to accomplish; what he believed, he dared to proclaim upon the housetop; what he ardently desired, and incessantly labored for, was the reign of universal freedom, peace, and righteousness. He was among the manliest of men, and the gentlest of spirits. There was no form of human suffering that did not touch his heart; but his abounding sympathy was especially drawn out towards the poor, imbruted slaves of the plantation, and such of their number as sought their freedom by flight. The thousands that passed safely through his hands, on their way to Canada and the North, will never forget his fatherly solicitude for their welfare, or the dangers he unflinchingly encountered in their behalf. Stripped of all his property under the Fugitive Slave law, for giving them food, shelter, and assistance to continue their flight, he knew not what it was to be intimidated or disheartened, but gave himself to the same blessed work as though conscious of no loss. Great-hearted philanthropist, what heroism could exceed thy own?

“For, while the jurist sitting with the slave-whip o’er him swung,
From the tortured truths of freedom the lie of slavery wrung,
And the solemn priest to Moloch, on each God-deserted shrine,
Broke the bondman’s heart for bread, poured the bondman’s blood for wine—
While the multitude in blindness to a far-off Saviour knelt,
And spurned, the while, the temple where a present Saviour dwelt;
Thou beheld’st Him in the task-field, in the prison shadow dim,
And thy mercy to the bondman, it was mercy unto Him!”

I trust some one, well qualified to execute the pleasing task, will write his biography for the grand lessons his life inculcated. Yours, in full sympathy and trust,

WM. LLOYD GARRISON.

A contemporary who had known him long and intimately—who had appreciated his devotion to freedom, who had shared with him some of the perils consequent upon aiding the fleeing fugitives, and who belonged to the race with whom Garrett sympathized, and for whose elevation and freedom he labored so assiduously with an overflowing heart of tender regard and sympathy–penned the following words, touching the sad event:

CHATHAM, C.W., January 30, 1871.

To MR. HENRY GARRETT:—Dear Sir:—I have just heard, through the kindness of my friend, Mrs. Graves, of the death of your dear father; the intelligence makes me feel sad and sorrowful; I sincerely sympathize with you and all your brothers and sisters, in your mournful bereavement; but you do not mourn without hope, for you have an assurance in his death that your loss is his infinite gain. For he was a good Christian, a good husband, a good father, a good citizen, and a truly good Samaritan, for his heart, his hand and his purse, were ever open to the wants of suffering humanity, wherever he found it; irrespective of the country, religion, or complexion of the sufferer. Hence there are many more who mourn his loss, as well as yourselves; and I know, verily, that many a silent tear was shed by his fellow-citizens, both white and colored, when he took his departure; especially the colored ones; for he loved them with a brother’s love, not because they were colored, but because they were oppressed, and, like John Brown, he loved them to the last; that was manifest by his request that they should be his bearers. I can better feel than I have language to express the mournful and sorrowing pride that must have stirred the inmost souls of those men of color, who had the honor conferred on them of bearing his mortal remains to their last resting-place, when they thought of what a sacred trust was committed to their hands. We are told to mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace; and such was the end of your dear father, and he has gone to join the innumerable company of the spirits of the just, made perfect on the other side of the river, where there is a rest remaining for all the children of God. My brother, Abraham D. Shadd, and my sister Amelia, join their love and condolence with mine to you all, hoping that the virtues of your father may be a guiding star to you all, until you meet him again in that happy place, where parting will be no more, forever.

Your humble friend, ELIZABETH J. WILLIAMS.

From the learned and the unlearned, from those in high places and from those in humble stations, many testimonials reached the family, respecting this great friend of the slave, but it is doubtful, whether a single epistle from any one, was more affectingly appreciated by the bereaved family, than the epistle just quoted from Elizabeth J. Williams.

The Slave’s most eloquent advocate, Wendell Phillips, in the “National Standard,” of February 4, 1871, in honor of the departed, bore the following pertinent testimony to his great worth in the cause of Liberty.

“I should not dare to trust my memory for the number of fugitive slaves this brave old friend has helped to safety and freedom—nearly three thousand, I believe. What a rich life to look back on! How skilful and adroit he was, in eluding the hunters! How patient in waiting days and weeks, keeping the poor fugitives hidden meanwhile, till it was safe to venture on the highway! What whole-hearted devotion, what unselfish giving of time, means, and everything else to this work of brotherly love! What house in Delaware, so honorable in history, as that where hunted men fled, and were sure to find refuge. It was the North Star to many a fainting heart. This century has grand scenes to show and boast of among its fellows. But few transcend that auction-block where the sheriff was selling all Garrett’s goods for the crime (!) of giving a breakfast to a family of fugitive slaves. As the sale closed, the officer turns to Garrett, saying: ‘Thomas, I hope you’ll never be caught at this again.’

“‘Friend,’ was the reply, ‘I haven’t a dollar in the world, but if thee knows a fugitive who needs a breakfast, send him to me.’

“Over such a scene, Luther and Howard and Clarkson clapped their hands.

“Such a speech redeems the long infamy of the State. It is endurable, the having of such a blot as Delaware in our history, when it has once been the home of such a man. I remember well the just pride with which he told me, that after that sale, pro-slavery as Wilmington was, he could have a discount at the bank as readily as any man in the city. Though the laws robbed him, his fellow-citizens could not but respect and trust him, love and honor him.

“The city has never had, we believe, a man die in it worthy of a statue. We advise it to seize this opportunity to honor itself and perpetuate the good name of its worthiest citizen, by immortalizing some street, spot, shaft or building with his name.

“Brave, generous, high-souled, sturdy, outspoken friend of all that needed aid or sympathy, farewell for these scenes! In times to come, when friendless men and hated ideas need champions, God grant them as gallant and successful ones as you have been, and may the State you honored grow worthy of you. WENDELL PHILLIPS.”

Likewise in the “National Standard,” the editor, Aaron M. Powell, who attended the funeral, paid the following glowing tribute to the moral, religious, and anti-slavery character of the slave’s friend:

On the 24th inst., Thomas Garrett, in his eighty-second year, passed on to the higher life. A week previous we had visited him in his sick chamber, and, on leaving him felt that he must go hence ere long. He was the same strong, resolute man in spirit to the last. He looked forward to the welcome change with perfect serenity and peace of mind. And well he might, for he had indeed fought the good fight and been faithful unto the end.

He was most widely known for his services to fugitive slaves. Twenty-five hundred and forty-five he had preserved a record of; and he had assisted somewhat more than two hundred prior to the commencement of the record. Picture to the mind’s eye this remarkable procession of nearly three thousand men, women and children fleeing from Slavery, and finding in this brave, large-hearted man, a friend equal to their needs in so critical an emergency! No wonder he was feared by the slave-holders, not alone of his own State, but of the whole South. If their human chattels once reached his outpost, there was indeed little hope of their reclamation. The friend and helper of fugitives from Slavery, truly their Moses, he was more than this, he was the discriminating, outspoken, uncompromising opponent of Slavery itself. He was one of the strongest pillars and one of the most efficient working-members of the American Anti-slavery Society. He was an abolitionist of the most radical and pronounced character, though a resident of a slave State, and through all the period wherein to be an abolitionist was to put in jeopardy, not only reputation and property, but life itself. Though he rarely addressed public meetings, his presence imparted much strength to others, was “weighty” in the best Quaker sense. He was of the rare type of character, represented by Francis Jackson and James Mott.

Thomas Garrett was a member of the Society of Friends, and as such, served by the striking contrast of his own life and character, with the average of the Society, to exemplify to the world the real, genuine Quakerism. It is not at all to the credit of his fellow-members, that it must be said of them, that when he was bearing the cross and doing the work for which he is now so universally honored, they, many of them, were not only not in sympathy with him, but would undoubtedly, if they had had the requisite vitality and courage, have cut him off from their denominational fellowship. He was a sincere, earnest believer in the cardinal point of Quakerism, the Divine presence in the human soul—this furnishes the key to his action through life. This divine attribute he regarded not as the birth-right of Friends alone, not of one race, sex or class, but of all mankind. Therefore was he an abolitionist; therefore was he interested in the cause of the Indians; therefore was he enlisted in the cause of equal rights for women; therefore was he a friend of temperance, of oppressed and needy working-men and women, world-wide in the scope of his philanthropic sympathy, and broadly catholic, and comprehensive in his views of religious life and duty. He was the soul of honor in business. His experience, when deprived at sixty, of every dollar of his property for having obeyed God rather than man, in assisting fugitives from Slavery, and the promptness with which his friends came forward with proffered co-operation, furnishes a lesson which all should ponder well. He had little respect for, or patience with shams of any kind, in religious, political or social life.

As we looked upon Thomas Garrett’s calm, serene face, mature in a ripe old age, still shadowing forth kindliness of heart, firmness of purpose, discriminating intelligence, conscientious, manly uprightness, death never seemed more beautiful:

“Why, what is Death but Life
In other forms of being? Life without
The coarser attributes of men, the dull
And momently decaying frame which holds
The ethereal spirit in, and binds it down
To brotherhood with brutes! There’s no
Such thing as Death; what’s so-called is but
The beginning of a new existence, a fresh
Segment of the eternal round of change.”

A.M.P.

Another warm admirer of this Great Lover of humanity, in a letter to George W. Stone thus alludes to his life and death:

TAUNTON, MASS., June 25th, 1871.

DEAR STONE:—Your telegram announcing the death of that old soldier and saint, and my good friend, Thos. Garrett, reached me last evening at ten o’clock.

My first impulse was to start for Wilmington, and be present at his funeral; but when I considered my work here, and my engagements for the next four days, I found it impossible to go.

I will be there in spirit, and bow my inmost soul before the All Loving One, his Father and ours, in humble thankfulness, that I ever knew him, and had the privilege of enjoying his friendship and witnessing his devotion, to the interest of every good cause of benevolence and Reform.

I could write you many things of interest which I heard from him, and which I have noted on my memory and heart; but I cannot now. I think he was one of the remarkable men of the times, in faith, in holy boldness, in fearless devotion to the right, in uncompromising integrity, in unselfish benevolence, in love to God and man, and in unceasing, life-long efforts to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God. We shall not soon look upon his like again.

If I was present at his funeral, I should take it as a privilege to pronounce his name, and say, as I never said before, “Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord; even so saith the Spirit; for they rest from their labors, and their works do follow them.”

Do, at once, see his children and Clarkson Taylor, and give them my condolence, no, my congratulation, and assure them that they have a rich legacy in his noble life, and he has a glorious reward in the bosom of God.

Peace to his memory! Noble old man, so pure and peaceful, and yet so strong, firm, and fearless, so gentle, tender, and truthful, afraid and ashamed of nothing but sin, and in love and labor with every good work.

I could write on and fill many pages. But he desired no eulogy, and needs none. He lives, and will live for ever in many hearts and in the heaven of heavens above.

T. ISRAEL.

If it were necessary we might continue to introduce scores of editorials, communications, epistles, etc., all breathing a similar spirit of respect for the rare worth of this wonderful man, but space forbids. In conclusion, therefore, with a view of presenting him in the light of his own interesting letters, written when absorbed in his peculiar work, from a large number on file the following are submitted:

WILMINGTON, 11th mo. 21st, 1855.

ESTEEMED FRIEND, WM. STILL:—Thine of this date, inquiring for the twenty-one, and how they have been disposed of, has just been received. I can only answer by saying, when I parted with them yesterday forenoon, I gave the wife of the person, in whose house they were, money to pay her expenses to Philadelphia and back in the cars to pilot the four women to thy place. I gave her husband money to pay a pilot to start yesterday with the ten men, divided in two gangs; also a letter for thee. I hope they have arrived safe ere this. I had to leave town soon after noon yesterday to attend a brother ill with an attack of apoplexy, and to-day I have been very much engaged. The place they stayed here is a considerable distance off. I will make inquiry to-morrow morning, and in case any other disposition has been made of them than the above I will write thee. I should think they have stopped to-day, in consequence of the rain, and most likely will arrive safe to-morrow. In haste, thy friend,

THOS. GARRETT.

Although having “to attend a brother, ill with an attack of apoplexy,” Garrett took time to attend to the interest of the “twenty-one,” as the above letter indicates. How many other men in the United States, under similar circumstances, would have been thus faithful?

On another occasion deeply concerned for A FORWARDER OF SLAVES, he wrote thus:

WILMINGTON, 12th mo. 26th, 1855.

ESTEEMED FRIEND, WM. STILL:—The bearer of this, George Wilmer, is a slave, whose residence is in Maryland. He is a true man, and a forwarder of slaves. Has passed some twenty-five within four months. He is desirous of finding some of his relations, Wm. Mann and Thomas Carmichael, they passed here about a month since. If thee can give him any information where they can be found thee will much oblige him, and run no risk of their safety in so doing. I remain, as ever, thy sincere friend,

THOS. GARRETT.

“Four able-bodied men,” form the subject of the subjoined correspondence:

WILMINGTON, 11th mo., 4th, 1856.

ESTEEMED FRIENDS, J. Miller McKim and William Still:—Captain F., has arrived here this day, with four able-bodied men. One is an engineer, and has been engaged in sawing lumber, a second, a good house-carpenter, a third a blacksmith, and the fourth a farm hand. They are now five hundred miles from their home in Carolina, and would be glad to get situations, without going far from here. I will keep them till to-morrow. Please inform me whether thee knows of a suitable place in the country where the mechanics can find employment at their trades for the winter; let me hear to-morrow, and oblige your friend,

THOMAS GARRETT.

“What has become of Harriet Tubman?” (agent of the Underground Rail Road), is made a subject of special inquiry in the following note:

WILMINGTON, 3d mo., 27th, 1857.

ESTEEMED FRIEND, WILLIAM STILL:—I have been very anxious for some time past, to hear what has become of Harriet Tubman. The last I heard of her, she was in the State of New York, on her way to Canada with some friends, last fall. Has thee seen, or heard anything of her lately? It would be a sorrowful fact, if such a hero as she, should be lost from the Underground Rail Road. I have just received a letter from Ireland, making inquiry respecting her. If thee gets this in time, and knows anything respecting her, please drop me a line by mail to-morrow, and I will get it next morning if not sooner, and oblige thy friend.

I have heard nothing from the eighth man from Dover, but trust he is safe.

THOMAS GARRETT.

On being informed that Harriet was “all right,” the following extract from a subsequent letter, expresses his satisfaction over the good news, and at the same time, indicates his sympathy for a “poor traveler,” who had fallen a victim to the cold weather, and being severely frost-bitten, had died of lock-jaw, as related on page 52.

“I was truly glad to learn that Harriet Tubman was still in good health and ready for action, but I think there will be more danger at present than heretofore, there is so much excitement below in consequence of the escape of those eight slaves. I was truly sorry to hear of the fate of that poor fellow who had periled so much for liberty. I was in hopes from what thee told me, that he would recover with the loss perhaps of some of his toes.

THOMAS GARRETT.”

In the next letter, an interesting anecdote is related of an encounter on the Underground Rail Road, between the fugitives and several Irishmen, and how one of the old countrymen was shot in the forehead, etc., which G. thought would make such opponents to the Road “more cautious.”

WILMINGTON, 11th mo., 5th, 1857.

ESTEEMED FRIEND, WILLIAM STILL:—I have just written a note for the bearer to William Murphy Chester, who will direct him on to thy care; he left his home about a week since. I hear in the lower part of this State, he met with a friend to pilot him some twenty-five miles last night. We learn that one party of those last week were attacked with clubs by several Irish and that one of them was shot in the forehead, the ball entering to the skull bone, and passing under the skin partly round the head. My informant says he is likely to recover, but it will leave an ugly mark it is thought, as long as he lives. We have not been able to learn, whether the party was on the look out for them, or whether they were rowdies out on a Hallow-eve frolic; but be it which it may, I presume they will be more cautious here how they trifle with such. Desiring thee prosperity and happiness, I remain thy friend,

THOMAS GARRETT.

Quite a satisfactory account is given, in the letter below of the “Irishman who was shot in the forehead;” also of one of the same kin, who in meddling with Underground Rail Road passengers, got his arm broken in two places, etc.

WILMINGTON, 11th mo. 14th, 1857.

ESTEEMED FRIEND, WM. STILL:—Thy favor of a few days since came to hand, giving quite a satisfactory account of the large company.

I find in the melee near this town, one of the Irishmen got his arm broken in two places. The one shot in the forehead is badly marked, but not dangerously injured. I learn to-day, that the carriage in that company, owing to fast driving with such a heavy load, is badly broken, and the poor horse was badly injured; it has not been able to do anything since.

Please say to my friend, Rebecca Hart, that I have heretofore kept clear of persuading, or even advising slaves to leave their masters till they had fully made up their minds to leave, knowing as I do there is great risk in so doing, and if betrayed once would be a serious injury to the cause hereafter. I had spoken to one colored man to try to see him, but he was not willing to risk it. If he has any desire to get away, he can, during one night, before they miss him, get out of the reach of danger. Booth has moved into New Castle, and left the two boys on the farm. If Rebecca Hart will write to me, and give me the name of the boy, and the name of his mother, I will make another effort. The man I spoke to lives in New Castle, and thinks the mother of the boy alluded to lives between here and New Castle. The young men’s association here wants Wendell Phillips to deliver a lecture on the lost arts, and some of the rest of us wish him to deliver a lecture on Slavery. Where will a letter reach him soonest, as I wish to write him on the subject. I thought he could perhaps deliver two lectures, two nights in succession. If thee can give the above information, thee will much oblige—

GARRETT & SON.

In his business-like transactions, without concealment, he places matters in such a light that the wayfaring man, though a fool, need not err, as may here be seen.

WILMINGTON, 11th mo. 25th, 1857.

ESTEEMED FRIEND, WM. STILL:—I now send Johnson, one of our colored men, up with the three men I wrote thee about. Johnson has undertook to have them well washed and cleaned during the day. And I have provided them with some second-hand clothes, to make them comfortable, a new pair of shoes and stockings, and shall pay Johnson for taking care of them. I mention this so that thee may know. Thee need not advance him any funds. In the present case I shall furnish them with money to pay their fare to Philadelphia, and Johnson home again. Hoping they will get on safe, I remain thy friend,

THOS. GARRETT.

While Father Abraham was using his utmost powers to put down the rebellion, in 1864, a young man who had “been most unrighteously sold for seven years,” desirous of enlisting, sought advice from the wise and faithful Underground Rail Road manager, who gave him the following letter, which may be looked upon in the light of a rare anecdote, as there is no doubt but that the “professed non-resistant” in this instance, hoped to see the poor fellow “snugly fixed in his regimentals” doing service for “Father Abraham.”

WILMINGTON, 1st mo. 23d, 1864.

RESPECTED FRIEND, WILLIAM STILL:—The bearer of this, Winlock Clark, has lately been most unrighteously sold for seven years, and is desirous of enlisting, and becoming one of Uncle Sam’s boys; I have advised him to call on thee so that no land sharks shall get any bounty for enlisting him; he has a wife and several children, and whatever bounty the government or the State allows him, will be of use to his family. Please write me when he is snugly fixed in his regimentals, so that I may send word to his wife. By so doing, thee will much oblige thy friend, and the friend of humanity,

THOMAS GARRETT.

N.B. Am I naughty, being a professed non-resistant, to advise this poor fellow to serve Father Abraham? T.G.

We have given so many of these inimitable Underground Rail Road letters from the pen of the sturdy old laborer, not only because they will be new to the readers of this work, but because they so fittingly illustrate his practical devotion to the Slave, and his cheerfulness—in the face of danger and difficulty—in a manner that other pens might labor in vain to describe.