It was a song of gratitude, a mighty pæan of praise, a universal strain of blessing for deliverance; and as it gathered power and rolled on in musical splendor, the sweetness of its tones, the beauty of its expressions, the grandeur of its inspiration clustered and fell in a cascade of divine harmony over and around the soul of him enthroned in our midst, the object of our gathering, the central glory of our galaxy, Wm. Lloyd Garrison. On, on they came, bearing branches of green and waving palms; garlands of beautiful and odorous blossoms, a profusion of snowy-white lilies, and clusters of royal roses, to strew before his spirit feet. But sweeter than all other gifts, and dearer far to him who beheld and received them, were the smiles of affection, the tears of gratitude, the whispered blessings showered upon him by these new-comers, the vanguard of this hero; they who were once poor and depressed, scorned, uneducated, and despised, the slaves of tyranny, and used as beasts of burden, but who are now cultured, honored, free!—toilers for the redemption of souls from bondage. First kneeling before their benefactor came the poor, despised negroes, with hands uplifted in blessing, lips mute from the excess of emotion, eyes eloquent with joy and gratitude. Not only those who had become free before the law while yet on earth, but also those who had died in chains and beneath the lash, came with benedictions for this man who had done so much for their race, and to receive a blessing from his soul, knowing it would impart to them strength, inspiration, and courage. Following these came hosts of others, men, women, and children, of every race and color, those who had felt the hand of tyranny, injustice, and oppression in some one or more of its many shapes. Red and white, the North American Indian and the Russian serf, delicate women, who had suffered in homes made unhappy by intemperance or by the cruelty of tyrannical brutality,—all came to bless this good man as their benefactor and friend; and their presence brought a joy to his spirit no mortal can understand. Turning earthward, we perceived great billows of golden light, waves of roseate beauty, clouds of azure and snowy brightness ascending, until they enveloped our guest with their fragrant splendor, irradiating his whole being with a new brilliancy, a new loveliness of expression. Each wave of light that thus arose expressed to us from its peculiar hue and its own delicate aroma the emotion which it represented; the golden hue symbolized truth and earnestness, the roseate love and sympathy, the azure fidelity and gratitude, and the white purity and peace. We perceived these auras mingling and blending together into beautiful harmony, and flowing out from hearts encased in mortal, who, though saddened at the decease of Mr. Garrison, yet sent out after his ascended spirit love, sympathy and blessings.