It is plain from the wording of the letter that she had never stated the fact to him.  She lived forty years after writing it and putting it under seal; and yet, during all those years, she never gave him the least intimation of her having freed those four slaves and contributed to their support, as she had done.  Even Sarah could not have known anything of it.  Her brother Henry, to whom the bill of sale was made out, as they could not be legally emancipated, was probably the only person who was aware of her generous act.  He became technically their owner, responsible for them to the State, but left them free to live and work for themselves as they pleased.

Angelina’s funeral took place on the 29th of October, and to it came many old friends and veteran co-workers in the anti-slavery cause.  The services were in keeping with the record of the life they commemorated.  They were opened by that beautiful chant, “Thy will be done,” followed by a touching prayer from the Rev. Mr. Morrison, who then briefly sketched the life of her who lay so still and beautiful before them.  He was followed by Elizur Wright, who, overcome by the memories with which she was identified, memories of struggles, trials, perils, and triumphs, that he stood for a moment unable to speak.  Then, only partially conquering his emotion, he told of what she did and what she was in those times which tried the souls of the stoutest.  “There is,” said he, “the courage of the mariner who buffets the angry waves.  There is the courage of the warrior who marches up to the cannon’s mouth, coolly pressing forward amid engines of destruction on every side.  But hers was a courage greater than theirs.  She not only faced death at the hands of stealthy assassins and howling mobs, in her loyalty to truth, duty, and humanity, but she encountered unflinchingly the awful frowns of the mighty consecrated leaders of society, the scoffs and sneers of the multitude, the outstretched finger of scorn, and the whispered mockery of pity, standing up for the lowest of the low.  Nurtured in the very bosom of slavery, by her own observation and thought, of one thing she became certain,—­that it was a false, cruel, accursed relation between human beings.  And to this conviction, from the very budding of her womanhood, she was true; not the fear of poverty, obloquy, or death could induce her to smother it.  Neither wealth, nor fame, nor tyrant fashion, nor all that the high position of her birth had to offer, could bribe her to abate one syllable of her testimony against the seductive system....  Let us hope that South Carolina will yet count this noble, brave, excellent woman above all her past heroes.  She it was, more than all the rest of us put together, who called out what was good and humane in the Christian church to take the part of the slave, and deliver the proud State of her birth from the monster that had preyed on its vitals for a century.  I have no fitting words for a life like hers.  With a mind high