After his death, she wrote to a friend, "I do not mourn, but rather
remember my blessings, and the blessing of his long life with me."

For twelve years more she lived and did her various duties. She had
seen the slave freed, and was thankful. The other reforms for which
she labored were progressing. At eighty-five she still spoke in the
great meetings. Each Christmas she carried turkeys, pies, and a gift
for each man and woman at the "Aged Colored Home," in Philadelphia,
driving twenty miles, there and back. Each year she sent a box
of candy to each conductor and brakeman on the North Pennsylvania
Railroad, "Because," she said, "they never let me lift out my bundles,
but catch them up so quickly, and they all seem to know me."

Finally the time came for her to go to meet James. As the end drew
near, she seemed to think that she was conducting her own funeral, and
said, as though addressing an audience, "If you resolve to follow the
Lamb wherever you may be led, you will find all the ways pleasant and
the paths peace. Let me go! Do take me!"

There was a large and almost silent funeral at the house, and at the
cemetery several thousand persons were gathered. When friends were
standing by the open grave, a low voice said, ""Will no one say
anything?" and another responded, "Who can speak? the preacher is
dead!"

Memorial services were held in various cities. For such a woman as
Lucretia Mott, with cultured mind, noble heart, and holy purpose,
there are no sex limitations. Her field is the world.