The deference with which he is treated by his associates shows their appreciation of his abilities and his moral worth. Tender and blameless in his family affections, devoted to his friends, simple and studious, upright, guileless, distinguished, and worthy, like the great men of antiquity, to be immortalized by another Plutarch. As a speaker, he is forcible, clear, and logical; as a writer, he has always been regarded as one of the ablest in our country. How many services, never to be forgotten, has he not rendered to the cause of the slave and the welfare of mankind. Many of those who started out with him in young manhood, when he left his Newburyport home, were swept away like so much floating wood before the tide. When the sturdiest characters gave way, when the finest geniuses passed one after another under the yoke of slavery, Garrison stood firm to his convictions, like a rock that stands stirless amid the conflicting agitation of the waves. He is not only the friend and advocate of freedom with his pen and tongue, but to the oppressed of every clime he opens his purse, his house, and his heart. In days past, the fugitive slave, fresh from the prison-house of the South, who was turned off by the politician, and had experienced the cold shoulder of the divine, found a warm bed and breakfast under the hospitable roof of William Lloyd Garrison. The society whose executive committee is now in session, is one of no inconsiderable influence in the United States. No man has had more bitter enemies or stauncher friends than Mr. Garrison. There are those among his friends who would stake their all upon his veracity and integrity; and we are sure that the colored people throughout America, in whose cause he has so long labored, will with one accord assign the highest niche in their affections to the champion of universal emancipation. This is not intended as an eulogium, for no words of ours could add the weight of a feather to the world-wide fame of William Lloyd Garrison; but we simply wish to record the acknowledgment of a grateful negro to the most distinguished friend of his race. On the right of the chairman sat Wendell Phillips, America’s ablest orator. He is a little above the middle height, well made, and remarkably graceful in person. His golden hair is now growing thin and changing its color, and his youthful look has gone; but he shows no yielding to age, and is in the full maturity of his powers. Descended from one of the oldest and most cultivated stock of New England’s sons; educated at the first university; graduating with all the honors which the college could bestow on him; studying law with Judge Story, and becoming a member of the bar; he has all the accomplishments that these advantages can give to a man of a great mind.