ets of fresh arrivals and the whispered directions of a
servant, pointing the way to the room where a last look at the dead
might be had.

At half-past 12 o'clock Deborah Wharton arose from her seat in the
parlor, and made a brief but touching address on the life and
character of the deceased. She began by a quotation from the Bible:
"This day a mighty prince has fallen in Israel." She then contrasted
the condition in life of Lucretia Mott and that of a prince, and
showed how she had accomplished more for humanity than the most
powerful princes, but without noise and tumult and the shedding of
blood.

Dr. Furness paid a beautiful tribute to the dead. He quoted the
beatitudes from the the fifth chapter of Matthew, and applied them to
her. "We are accustomed," he said, "to speak of the dead as having
gone to their reward, but Lucretia Mott had her reward here, and she
shall have it hereafter a hundred fold." Dr. Furness closed with an
eloquent prayer that the example of the beautiful life ended upon
earth might not be lost upon the living.

Phoebe Couzins paid a tender and loving tribute that touched every
heart. Then loving hands took up the little coffin--it looked hardly
larger than a child's--and bore it to the gravelled drive in front of
the house. The route was down York road to Fairhill, the Friends'
cemetery, at Germantown Avenue and Cambria Street, in this city, which
was reached about three o'clock. Here several hundred people were
already gathered to witness the interment. Fairhill is a little
cemetery, about the size of a city square. It is mound-shaped, sloping
up from all sides to the center. It is filled with trees and
shrubbery, but does not contain a single monument, the graves being
simply marked with little marble blocks, which do not rise more than
six inches above the ground. In the highest part of the grounds was
the open grave, by the side of the husband, James Mott, who was buried
about twelve years ago. Above the grave spread the branches of an
aspen tree, and near it is a weeping willow. While thousands stood
about, the coffin was reverently, solemnly, and silently lowered. The
grave was then filled up, the friends turned away, and slowly the
cemetery was deserted.

Memorial services were held the same day and hour by Liberal Germans
in Milwaukie, Wisconsin, and by the City Suffrage Association in New
York. Dr. Clement Lozier, president of the society, presided. Charles
G. Ames, of Philadel