Finally the time came for her to go to meet James.  As the end drew near, she seemed to think that she was conducting her own funeral, and said, as though addressing an audience, “If you resolve to follow the Lamb wherever you may be led, you will find all the ways pleasant and the paths peace.  Let me go!  Do take me!”

There was a large and almost silent funeral at the house, and at the cemetery several thousand persons were gathered.  When friends were standing by the open grave, a low voice said, “"Will no one say anything?” and another responded, “Who can speak? the preacher is dead!”

Memorial services were held in various cities.  For such a woman as Lucretia Mott, with cultured mind, noble heart, and holy purpose, there are no sex limitations.  Her field is the world.

Those who desire to know, more of this gifted woman will find it in a most interesting volume, Lives of James and Lucretia Mott, written by their grandaughter, Anna Davis Hallowell, West Medford, Mass.

MARY A. LIVERMORE.

[Illustration:  MARY A. LIVERMORE.]

When a nation passes through a great struggle like our Civil War, great leaders are developed.  Had it not been for this, probably Mrs. Livermore, like many other noble women, would be to-day living quietly in some pleasant home, doing the common duties of every-day life.  She would not be the famous lecturer, the gifted writer, the leader of the Sanitary Commission in the West; a brilliant illustration of the work a woman may do in the world, and still retain the truest womanliness.

She was born in Boston, descended from ancestors who for six generations had been Welsh preachers, and reared by parents of the strictest Calvinistic faith.  Mr. Rice, her father, was a man of honesty and integrity, while the mother was a woman of remarkable judgment and common sense.

Mary was an eager scholar, and a great favorite in school, because she took the part of all the poor children.  If a little boy or girl was a cripple, or wore shabby clothes, or had scanty dinners, or was ridiculed, he or she found an earnest friend and defender in the courageous girl.

So fond was she of the five children in the home, younger than herself, and so much did she take upon herself the responsibility of their conversion, that when but ten years old, unable to sleep, she would rise from her bed and waken her father and mother that they might pray for the sisters.  “It’s no matter about me,” she would say; “if they are saved, I can bear anything.”

Mature in thought and care-taking beyond her years, she was still fond of out-door sports and merry times.  Sliding on the ice was her especial delight.  One day, after a full hour’s fun in the bracing air, she rushed into the house, the blood tingling in every vein, exclaiming, “It’s splendid sliding!” “Yes,” replied the father, “it’s good fun, but wretched for shoes.”