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.