of the formation
of the American Anti-Slavery Society he was a Professor in Harvard
University, honored for his genius, learning, and estimable character.
His love of liberty and hatred of oppression led him to seek an
interview with Garrison and express his sympathy with him. Soon after,
he attended a meeting of the New England Anti-Slavery Society. An able
speech was made by Rev. A. A. Phelps, and a letter of mine addressed to
the Secretary of the Society was read. Whereupon he rose and stated that
his views were in unison with those of the Society, and that after
hearing the speech and the letter, he was ready to join it, and abide
the probable consequences of such an unpopular act. He lost by so doing
his professorship. He was an able member of the Executive Committee of
the American Anti-Slavery Society. He perished in the ill-fated steamer
Lexington, which was burned on its passage from New York, January 13,
1840. The few writings left behind him show him to have been a profound
thinker of rare spiritual insight.

Friend of my soul! as with moist eye
I look up from this page of thine,
Is it a dream that thou art nigh,
Thy mild face gazing into mine?

That presence seems before me now,
A placid heaven of sweet moonrise,
When, dew-like, on the earth below
Descends the quiet of the skies.

The calm brow through the parted hair,
The gentle lips which knew no guile,
Softening the blue eye's thoughtful care
With the bland beauty of their smile.

Ah me! at times that last dread scene
Of Frost and Fire and moaning Sea
Will cast its shade of doubt between
The failing eyes of Faith and thee.

Yet, lingering o'er thy charmed page,
Where through the twilight air of earth,
Alike enthusiast and sage,
Prophet and bard, thou gazest forth,

Lifting the Future's solemn veil;
The reaching of a mortal hand
To put aside the cold and pale
Cloud-curtains of the Unseen Land;

Shall these poor elements outlive
The mind whose kingly will, they wrought?
Their gross unconsciousness survive
Thy godlike energy of thought?

In thoughts which answer to my own,
In words which reach my inward ear,
Like whispers from the void Unknown,
I feel thy living presence here.

The waves which lull thy body's rest,
The dust thy pilgrim footsteps trod,
Unwasted, t