On the same grand principle of human fraternity Mr. Garrison dealt with the questions of trade and tariffs also. He believed in liberty, civil, religious, and commercial. He was in fact a radical free trader on moral and humanitary grounds. "He is the most sagacious political economist," was a remark of his, "who contends for the highest justice, the most far-reaching equality, a close adherence to natural laws, and the removal of all those restrictions which foster national pride and selfishness." And here is another like unto it: "Believing that the interests of the American people in no wise materially differ from those of the people of any other country, and denying the rectitude or feasibility of building ourselves up at their expense by an exclusive policy, obstructing the natural flow of material exchanges, I avow myself to be a radical free trader, even to the extent of desiring the abolition of all custom-houses, as now constituted, throughout the world. That event is far distant, undoubtedly, but I believe it will come with the freedom and enlightenment of mankind. My faith is absolute that it will prove advantageous to every branch of industry, whether at home or abroad." The closing years of the reformer's life were years of great bodily suffering. A disease of the kidneys and a chronic catarrh of the head made steady inroads upon the resources of his constitution, made life at times a wheel on which he was racked with physical tortures, all of which he bore with the utmost fortitude and serenity of spirit. "The longer I live, the longer I desire to live," he wrote Samuel J. May, "and the more I see the desirableness of living; yet certainly not in this frail body, but just as it shall please the dear Father of us all." One by one he saw the little band of which he was leader dwindle as now one and now another dropped by the way. And it was he or Mr. Phillips, or both, who spoke the last loving words over their coffins. As the little band passed on to the unseen country, a new joy awoke in the soul of the leader left behind, the joy of anticipation, of glad reunion beyond the grave. "How unspeakably pleasant it will be to greet them, and to be greeted by them on the other side of the line," it seemed to him as he, too, began to descend toward the shore of the swift, silent river. The deep, sweet love for his mother returned with youthful freshness and force to him, the man of seventy-three years, at the thought of coming again into her presence. A strange yearning was tugging at his heart for all the dear ones gone before. The fond mother, who had watched over his childhood, and the fond wife, who had been the stay of his manhood, were the first two whom he yearned to meet after crossing the river. The joyous thought of his approaching meeting with those white-souled women cheered and comforted the reformer amid excruciating physical sufferings. Worn out by heroic and Herculean