“Oh, well, bring her in then,” he said. And soon the company changed the rule discriminating against colored passengers. After the fugitive slave law was passed in 1850 many exciting cases came up in Philadelphia. Perhaps the most famous was the trial of a negro named Daniel Webster Dangerfield, who was arrested, charged with being a fugitive slave. The alleged master engaged a famous lawyer who was later attorney-general of the United States. The trial lasted all one day, into the night and the next day; all that time Lucretia Mott with her knitting sat in the crowded room beside the poor ragged prisoner, like a guardian spirit. The opposing counsel asked that her chair be moved, fearing that her face would influence the jury! In the court the negro won; but outside a rabble surged up and down, threatening to give him over to his Maryland master, while inside a group of young Quakers was equally determined that he should keep his hard-won freedom. Another colored man, resembling him, was driven away from the court-house in the carriage, while Dangerfield walked a few squares with some of his friends, then was sent eight miles to an unsuspected station of the Underground Railroad, and in a few days was safe in Canada. “I have heard a great deal of Mrs. Mott,” said the opposing lawyer at the conclusion of the trial, “but never saw her before to-day. She is an angel!” Soon after he joined the party of freedom. Asked how he dared to make the change, with so many interests arrayed on the other side, his answer was, “Do you think there is anything I dare not do, after sitting in that court room facing Lucretia Mott?” With all her public work this gentle Friend was first of all a womanly woman, a fine housekeeper, a splendid mother, a devoted wife. Her letters speak constantly of the varied activities of her hands--of doing the family ironing, making mince meat for forty pies, sewing and putting down carpets, knitting, and making carpet-rags and the children’s clothes. She was herself the best answer to the argument that public affairs must necessarily take a woman’s attention from her household. For years the abolitionists felt their cause hopeless. The very utmost they could do would be a lifelong protest against slavery. But Lucretia Mott lived to see freedom for the negroes an accomplished fact. Nor did she confine her work to this one cause. She was as firm an advocate of woman’s equality with man, an able speaker for woman’s rights in that early day when the subject met only ridicule and abuse. She used her eloquence for temperance, for the advancement of the freedmen, for peace through arbitration. Instead of averted faces and open condemnation, in her last years she met everywhere with tenderness and veneration. And her face was like that of a transfigured saint, for she was without jealousy or bitterness, free from malice, incapable of hate. She was a preacher, a reformer, a woman commanding our admiration.