It is curious to find the slaves volunteering to go to shoot men (in buckram) who are coming "a thousand at a time, to rescue Captain Brown"! The African is as much superior to the Anglo-Saxon in cunning and arts of hypocrisy — except the ecclesiastical as he is inferior in general power of mind. Savannah tell a Northern minister, "I no

Didn't a negro in

want to be free!

I only 'fraid to be slave of sin! dat's it, massa, I's fraid of de Debil, not of massa!" What a guffaw he gave when with his countrymen alone! and how he mimicked the gestures of the South-side, white-choked priest, who bore "his great commission in his work"!

But I end as I began — what a stormy time is before us! There are not many men of conscience like John Brown, but abundance of men of wrath; and the time for them-I

know not when it is.

I

V.

SPEECH OF THEODORE TILTON.*

HAVE listened to the striking of your city bell! Who

knows but it marked the very hour and moment when the gate of Heaven was opened, and the spirit of a new martyr passed in! To-day the nation puts to death its noblest citizen! (Cheers and hisses.) What was his crime? Guilty of what? Guilty of loving his fellow-men too well! (Applause and hisses.) Guilty of a heart of too great human kindness! Guilty of too well "remembering them that are in bonds as bound with them!" Has the brave old man still a few moments more of life? Then, though he cannot hear our words, let us say, "God bless him, and farewell!" (Applause and hisses.) But if the last sad moment is already passed, what then remains? I know not what remains for you, but as for me, I feel like throwing roses upon that scaffold and that coffin! (Mingled applause and hisses, which continued for some moments, during which the speaker advanced to the edge of the platform, and folded his arms.) Honor! thrice honor to the good Christian who to-day dies in the faith! It is the hour not of his defeat, but of his triumph! Our hearts are large for him to-day!

But what can I say? This is a time for silence rather than

* Delivered at noon of the 2d of December, at a public meeting of the friends of John Brown's cause in Philadelphia. As the speaker rose to address the audience the clock struck twelve.

for words. We are standing by the old man's open grave, waiting for his body to be buried. When friends gather together to speak of a good man who has departed, every one has some word to utter which is peculiar to himself; some word which best expresses what is each man's most grateful and endearing memory of him who has gone. My own tribute to John Brown, which I offer on this day of his death, is gratitude for the influence which his heroism, his fortitude, and his faith have exerted upon my religious life. I have been made a better Christian by that man's life and death. His own great faith has strengthened mine. His own great courage has quickened mine. His Christian example of unwavering heroism and patience in prison, under his wounds, in prospect of the gallows — all this has inspired me to a higher religious life. It has kindled within my heart a greater love to God and to my fellow-men. This is a tribute to his memory which I cannot to-day withhold.

I do not judge him merely by his last great act. John Brown was a Christian long before the great eye of the world was set on him; for, from his sixteenth year to his fifty-ninth, he has been a true and honored member of the Church of Christ. The world has not watched all that long career, but it has seen enough in a few days in his prison to make it wonder and admire.

You remember how he received the Governor of Virginia. He stood in his presence as Paul stood before Agrippa. not wishing to exchange places, but only holding out his hand and saying, "I would that thou wert altogether as I am, save these bonds!" (Applause.) You remember how he received his sentence. When the Earl of Argyle who, with his own hands put upon the head of Charles II, the crown of England, was afterwards condemned to death by the same king, the stern old Presbyterian, on hearing his fate, arose in court, and said, "The king honors me with a speedy gratitude; for while I helped him only to a crown which must shortly perish, he

hastens me to a crown that is incorruptible, and that fadeth not away." So that other stern old Presbyterian, who dies this day in Virginia, arose in court and uttered a speech of equal heroism and moral grandeur a speech that will go down to the end of time with all the grand words of all the world's heroes. (Applause and hisses.)

I cannot look upon his steadfastness without first marvelling, and then thanking God. John Brown was a Puritan the sixth in descent from the band of Pilgrims who stepped on Plymouth Rock. I think of him and go back to old Bishop Hooper of English history the first Puritan, the father of the Pilgrim Fathers—who, when he was condemned to death for conscience' sake, wrote in his cell at Newgate, "I have spoken the truth with my lips; I have written it with my pen; I am ready to confirm it, by God's grace, with my blood!" John Brown's letters, written in his cell at Charlestown, bear in every line the same heroic testimony to God's truth! (Applause, mingled with loud hisses.) It is this high and grand faith in God that has sustained him in the long hours of his imprisonment, from its beginning until to-day that now ends it.

I have no fear how he mounted that scaffold. I have heard no news, but I believe in my soul that when the telegraph shall flash the story, it will tell of no faltering, no tremulous step, no recantation-nothing but faith, constancy, cheerfulness, heroism! When the great Marquis of Montrose, who suffered in Scotland for the cause of Church and King, was led to execution, it was a day of dark skies and threatening storms, but as he approached the scaffold the sun for a moment broke through the clouds and shone full upon his head as if the Divine glory had come to crown the saint before the martyr! And he mounted the ladder, as if it had been the ladder which Jacob saw, and walked straightway up into Heaven. So to-day, amid the greater clouds and shadows that have fallen upon our sad hearts, I believe that a light brighter than the sun has shone upon the old man who has

this day gone to the gallows, and that, as he looked up for the last time toward the heavens over his head,

"God's glory smote him on the face!"

(Cheers and hisses.)

He died no dishonorable death. Did you notice, in his late letter, which Dr. Furness read, the little line to his wife, "Think not that any ignomy has fallen upon you or upon your children, because I have come to the scaffold!" Ah! the scaffold is sometimes a throne greater than a king's. They who suffer upon it rule the world more than emperors!

You heard Mr. Hale's lecture last night. He said, The highest province of history is to vindicate a good man from obloquy and reproach." To that impartial history which vindicates the martyrs and turns their martyrdom into glory, we commend to-day the name and memory of the martyr, John Brown! (Applause and hisses.) The deed of this day will not die! It will live in history as long as there shall be a history for heroes! Said Latimer to Ridley, when the blaze of martyrdom was wrapping them both around like a garment, "Be of good comfort, Master Ridley; we have this day lighted a candle in England which, by God's grace, no man shall ever put out." To-day God looks down from heaven on a martyrdom whose light shall shine over the world brighter than any blazing fire that ever gilded fagot or stake! This scaffold in Virginia shall stand as long as the world shall stand! No man can ever strike it down, or put it away! It will abide forever, as the monument of a Christian man who lived a hero and died a martyr, and whose name, to-day bequeathed to history, shall go down through the world gathering increasing honor through all coming time! (Great clapping and hissing.) I recall at this hour of noon those beautiful words of the New Testament, in the story of Saul, the persecutor of the prophets, struck down on his way