ood time. If he had not, I am sure it was not for
want of being made much of. I trust his visits to Boston will grow into
one of our domestic institutions."

In the old gentleman's account of his visit to the Fair, he says: "I was
struck with the extreme propriety with which everything was conducted,
and with the universal harmony and good-will that prevailed among the
numerous friends of the cause, who had collected from all parts of the
old Commonwealth, on this interesting occasion. Many of the most
distinguished citizens were purchasers, and appeared highly gratified,
though not connected with the anti-slavery cause. Lord Morpeth, late
Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, attended frequently, made some presents to
the Fair, and purchased several articles. I would call him by his
Christian name, if I knew it; for it is plain enough that he was not
baptized, 'Lord'. His manners were extremely friendly and agreeable, and
he expressed himself highly pleased with the exhibition. I had an
interesting conversation with him on the subject of slavery;
particularly in relation to the Amistad captives, and the case of the
Creole."

"I had an opportunity to make a valuable addition to my collection of
the works of ancient Friends. On the book-table, I found that rare old
volume, 'The Way Cast Up,' written by George Keith, while in unity with
the Society. I took it home with me to my chamber; and as I glanced over
it, my mind was moved to a painful retrospect of the Society of Friends
in its original state, when its members were at liberty to follow the
light, as manifested to them in the silence and secrecy of their own
souls. I seemed to see them entering places appointed for worship by
various professors, and there testifying against idolatry, superstition,
and a mercenary priesthood. I saw them entering the courts, calling upon
judges and lawyers to do justice. I saw them receive contumely and
abuse, as a reward for these acts of dedication. My imagination
followed them to loathsome dungeons, where many of them died a lingering
death. I saw the blood trickling from the lacerated backs of innocent
men and women. I saw William Robinson, Marmaduke Stevenson, Mary Dyer,
and William Leddra, pass through the streets of Boston, pinioned, and
with halters about their necks, on the way to execution; yet rejoicing
that they were found worthy to suffer, even unto death, for their
fidelity to Christ; sustained through those last bitter moments