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.