FOOTNOTES:

Priscilla Bright McLaren (Signed: "Your loving friend Priscilla Bright McLaren.")

Autograph: "Cordially yours, Helen Taylor"Saw there five of the seven women members, among them Miss Helen Taylor, stepdaughter of John Stuart Mill, and the senior woman member of the board. Today I spent an hour with Mrs. Lucas, sister of John and Jacob Bright, and this afternoon Rachel and I are going to a Women's Poor Law Guardian meeting, at which Mrs. Lucas is to preside and other ladies to speak....Just back from the meeting. In all England there are thirty-one women poor law guardians. There are 19,000 of the guardians elected and 1,000, mainly clergymen, are honorary. They have over 1,000,000 paupers to look after. The secretary, Mrs. Chamberlain, stated that in her section of London there were 16,000. The guardians overlook everything about the workhouses and asylums, get no pay, and yet the public hesitates to put women on the board. One man stirred up the handful present by saying, "suffrage not only for widows and spinsters, but for married women."June 26.—Well, the ordeal is over and everybody is delighted. Moncure D. Conway said: "I have learned more of American history from your speech than I ever dreamed had been made during the past thirty years." Even the timid ones expressed great satisfaction. Mrs. Stanton gave them the rankest radical sentiments, but all so cushioned they didn't hurt. Mrs. Duncan McLaren came down from Edinburgh and Mrs. Margaret Parker from Dundee. Rachel said I made a good statement of the industrial, legal and political status of women in America. We went to tea with Mrs. Jacob Bright; then I took dinner with Mrs. Stanton at Mrs. Mellen's, getting up from table at 9:15p. m.Autograph: "Most sincerely yours, Jane Cobden"Saturday Rachel and I drove four hours in Miss Müller's carriage and called on Lady Wilde, a bright, quaint woman. Sunday morning I went to Friends' meeting and had a look at John Bright, though I was not sure it was he until after the meeting was over; then he was gone, and I not introduced to him! In the afternoon I called on Miss Jane Cobden, daughter of Richard Cobden, a charming woman. Yesterday I presented her with a set of our History in memory of her noble father, and for her own sake also. I will not foreshadow the coming days but they are busy indeed. You will see that the Central Committee have put both my name and Mrs. Stanton's on the card for the meeting of July 5....

Autograph: "Cordially yours, Helen Taylor"

Saw there five of the seven women members, among them Miss Helen Taylor, stepdaughter of John Stuart Mill, and the senior woman member of the board. Today I spent an hour with Mrs. Lucas, sister of John and Jacob Bright, and this afternoon Rachel and I are going to a Women's Poor Law Guardian meeting, at which Mrs. Lucas is to preside and other ladies to speak....

Just back from the meeting. In all England there are thirty-one women poor law guardians. There are 19,000 of the guardians elected and 1,000, mainly clergymen, are honorary. They have over 1,000,000 paupers to look after. The secretary, Mrs. Chamberlain, stated that in her section of London there were 16,000. The guardians overlook everything about the workhouses and asylums, get no pay, and yet the public hesitates to put women on the board. One man stirred up the handful present by saying, "suffrage not only for widows and spinsters, but for married women."

June 26.—Well, the ordeal is over and everybody is delighted. Moncure D. Conway said: "I have learned more of American history from your speech than I ever dreamed had been made during the past thirty years." Even the timid ones expressed great satisfaction. Mrs. Stanton gave them the rankest radical sentiments, but all so cushioned they didn't hurt. Mrs. Duncan McLaren came down from Edinburgh and Mrs. Margaret Parker from Dundee. Rachel said I made a good statement of the industrial, legal and political status of women in America. We went to tea with Mrs. Jacob Bright; then I took dinner with Mrs. Stanton at Mrs. Mellen's, getting up from table at 9:15p. m.

Autograph: "Most sincerely yours, Jane Cobden"

Saturday Rachel and I drove four hours in Miss Müller's carriage and called on Lady Wilde, a bright, quaint woman. Sunday morning I went to Friends' meeting and had a look at John Bright, though I was not sure it was he until after the meeting was over; then he was gone, and I not introduced to him! In the afternoon I called on Miss Jane Cobden, daughter of Richard Cobden, a charming woman. Yesterday I presented her with a set of our History in memory of her noble father, and for her own sake also. I will not foreshadow the coming days but they are busy indeed. You will see that the Central Committee have put both my name and Mrs. Stanton's on the card for the meeting of July 5....

London, June 28.My Dear Sister: It is now just after luncheon and at 4 o'clock we are to be at Mrs. Jacob Bright's reception, tomorrow evening at one at Mrs. Thomasson's, which she gives to friends for the special purpose of meeting Stantonand Anthony, and Saturday at Frances Power Cobbe's—and so we go. Yesterday morning Miss Frances Lord—a poor law guardian—escorted us through Lambeth workhouse. It has 1,000 inmates and 700 more in the infirmary, and gives out-door relief to 2,000 besides.

London, June 28.

My Dear Sister: It is now just after luncheon and at 4 o'clock we are to be at Mrs. Jacob Bright's reception, tomorrow evening at one at Mrs. Thomasson's, which she gives to friends for the special purpose of meeting Stantonand Anthony, and Saturday at Frances Power Cobbe's—and so we go. Yesterday morning Miss Frances Lord—a poor law guardian—escorted us through Lambeth workhouse. It has 1,000 inmates and 700 more in the infirmary, and gives out-door relief to 2,000 besides.

[Jacob Bright presided over the Prince's Hall meeting, and William Woodall over that at St. James' Hall.[17]All of the prominent newspapers in Great Britain contained editorials on the meetings, and noted especially the addresses of Miss Anthony and Mrs. Stanton, speaking of them in a dignified and respectful manner.]

London, July 13.My Dear Sister: My last letter was mailed the 3d. That afternoon I was at Rebecca Moore's reception. We dined at Miss Müller's and afterwards went to Horn's assembly rooms to a suffrage meeting. Her sister Eva, wife of Walter McLaren, M.P., was one of the speakers.... At 9p. m., we went to a Fourth of July reception at Mrs. Mellen's, given in honor of Mrs. Stanton and Miss Anthony, and a brilliant affair it was. About 150 were there; she had elegant refreshments; and the young American girls gave songs, recitations, violin music, etc. Grace Greenwood recited her "Mistress O'Rafferty"—a woman's rights poem in Irish brogue—very rich and racy; her daughter Annie sang, also Mrs. Carpenter, of Chicago; Kate Hillard, of Brooklyn, Adelaide Detchon, the actress, and Mildred Conway recited; Frank Lincoln impersonated; Nathaniel Mellen sang a negro jubilee melody; Maude Powell played the violin. She is not fifteen yet and is a charming player. The company did not disperse until after one.July 5, drove to Mrs. Mellen's to a 10 o'clock breakfast, and worked on Rachel's report of my Prince's Hall speech—you'll find it in full in theEnglishwoman's Review. In the evening Mrs. Thomasson gave a splendid dinner-party, and afterwards took us all in carriages to the St. James' Hall suffrage demonstration, where there was a fine audience of about 2,000.... Next morning I went to a meeting of the suffrage friends from various towns who had come up for the demonstration. At 8p. m. Mrs. McLaren took me to the House of Commons, to witness Mr. Hugh Mason present the Women's Suffrage Bill; so I heard all the speeches pro and con, up to 1:30a. m., and how tired I was! Mr. Jacob Bright's was the strongest and most earnest.The morning of July 7, at the suffrage rooms, I heard strong protests against the way Mr. Mason disclaimed all intention of enfranchising married women. He carried the matter too far even for the most timid. In the afternoon, we went to the Somerville Club, and Rachel spoke beautifully on the need of union and co-operation among women. I followed her, and Mrs. McLaren moved a vote of thanks.... Rachel left for Antwerp this evening, to meet her mother and sister, and I returned to my room, lonesome enough. Sunday I lunched with Mrs. Lucas and Mrs. McLaren. I had calls from three factory-women, who told a sad story of the impossibility of getting even a dollar ahead by the most frugal and temperate habits.Have I told you that I have a new dark garnet velvet? I wore it with my point lace at Mrs. Mellen's reception on the Fourth, and the India shawl I have worn today for the first time.... Tuesday I went with Mrs. Lucas to the Crystal Palace at Sydenham to a great national temperance demonstration. More than 50,000 people passed the gates at a shilling apiece, and we saw a solid mass of 5,000 boys and girls from all parts of the kingdom seated in a huge amphitheater, singing temperance songs—a beautiful sight. Then in another part of the palace was an audience of 2,000 listening to speeches. Among the speakers was Canon Wilberforce, a grandson of the great Abolitionist but a degenerate one. He said the reason the temperance movement was now progressing so rapidly was because the persons who led it were praying people, and that the Lord had willed it, and all depended on whether it was kept in the Lord's hands—if not, then it would fall back like the old Washingtonian movement in America. Mrs. Lucas was very wroth, and so was I. He never spoke of woman except as "maiden aunt" or "old grandmother," and advised the boys to take a little wine for the stomach's sake.At 6 o'clock we went to Miss Müller's where I remained until today. She took me to the Gaiety Theater to see Sarah Bernhardt. What a magnificent actor! I never saw any man or woman who so absolutely buried self out of sight and became the very being personated. Though I couldn't understand a single word, I enjoyed it all until the curtain fell at half-past eleven. I was tired beyond telling, but felt richly repaid by the seeing. She must be master of her divine art thus to impress one by action alone. Today Mrs. McLaren invites me to dine at her son's, Charles McLaren, M.P. All this is written in a hurry but is perhaps better than nothing. It is so difficult to clutch a moment to write.

London, July 13.

My Dear Sister: My last letter was mailed the 3d. That afternoon I was at Rebecca Moore's reception. We dined at Miss Müller's and afterwards went to Horn's assembly rooms to a suffrage meeting. Her sister Eva, wife of Walter McLaren, M.P., was one of the speakers.... At 9p. m., we went to a Fourth of July reception at Mrs. Mellen's, given in honor of Mrs. Stanton and Miss Anthony, and a brilliant affair it was. About 150 were there; she had elegant refreshments; and the young American girls gave songs, recitations, violin music, etc. Grace Greenwood recited her "Mistress O'Rafferty"—a woman's rights poem in Irish brogue—very rich and racy; her daughter Annie sang, also Mrs. Carpenter, of Chicago; Kate Hillard, of Brooklyn, Adelaide Detchon, the actress, and Mildred Conway recited; Frank Lincoln impersonated; Nathaniel Mellen sang a negro jubilee melody; Maude Powell played the violin. She is not fifteen yet and is a charming player. The company did not disperse until after one.

July 5, drove to Mrs. Mellen's to a 10 o'clock breakfast, and worked on Rachel's report of my Prince's Hall speech—you'll find it in full in theEnglishwoman's Review. In the evening Mrs. Thomasson gave a splendid dinner-party, and afterwards took us all in carriages to the St. James' Hall suffrage demonstration, where there was a fine audience of about 2,000.... Next morning I went to a meeting of the suffrage friends from various towns who had come up for the demonstration. At 8p. m. Mrs. McLaren took me to the House of Commons, to witness Mr. Hugh Mason present the Women's Suffrage Bill; so I heard all the speeches pro and con, up to 1:30a. m., and how tired I was! Mr. Jacob Bright's was the strongest and most earnest.

The morning of July 7, at the suffrage rooms, I heard strong protests against the way Mr. Mason disclaimed all intention of enfranchising married women. He carried the matter too far even for the most timid. In the afternoon, we went to the Somerville Club, and Rachel spoke beautifully on the need of union and co-operation among women. I followed her, and Mrs. McLaren moved a vote of thanks.... Rachel left for Antwerp this evening, to meet her mother and sister, and I returned to my room, lonesome enough. Sunday I lunched with Mrs. Lucas and Mrs. McLaren. I had calls from three factory-women, who told a sad story of the impossibility of getting even a dollar ahead by the most frugal and temperate habits.

Have I told you that I have a new dark garnet velvet? I wore it with my point lace at Mrs. Mellen's reception on the Fourth, and the India shawl I have worn today for the first time.... Tuesday I went with Mrs. Lucas to the Crystal Palace at Sydenham to a great national temperance demonstration. More than 50,000 people passed the gates at a shilling apiece, and we saw a solid mass of 5,000 boys and girls from all parts of the kingdom seated in a huge amphitheater, singing temperance songs—a beautiful sight. Then in another part of the palace was an audience of 2,000 listening to speeches. Among the speakers was Canon Wilberforce, a grandson of the great Abolitionist but a degenerate one. He said the reason the temperance movement was now progressing so rapidly was because the persons who led it were praying people, and that the Lord had willed it, and all depended on whether it was kept in the Lord's hands—if not, then it would fall back like the old Washingtonian movement in America. Mrs. Lucas was very wroth, and so was I. He never spoke of woman except as "maiden aunt" or "old grandmother," and advised the boys to take a little wine for the stomach's sake.

At 6 o'clock we went to Miss Müller's where I remained until today. She took me to the Gaiety Theater to see Sarah Bernhardt. What a magnificent actor! I never saw any man or woman who so absolutely buried self out of sight and became the very being personated. Though I couldn't understand a single word, I enjoyed it all until the curtain fell at half-past eleven. I was tired beyond telling, but felt richly repaid by the seeing. She must be master of her divine art thus to impress one by action alone. Today Mrs. McLaren invites me to dine at her son's, Charles McLaren, M.P. All this is written in a hurry but is perhaps better than nothing. It is so difficult to clutch a moment to write.

London, July 19.My Dear Rachel: ... I am to attend a suffrage meeting at the Westminster Palace Hotel Hall this afternoon, and tomorrow at 10:25a. m.I start for Edinburgh with Mrs. Moore. I am bound to suck all the honeypossible out of everybody and everything as they come to me or I go to them. It is such unwisdom, such unhappiness, not to look for and think and talk of the best in all things and all people; so you see at threescore and three I am still trying always to keep the bright and right side up. I am expecting a great ferment at the meeting today, for those who agree with Mrs. Jacob Bright have asked Mrs. Stanton to confer with them about what they shall do now. She advises them to demand suffrage for all women, married and single; but I contend that it is not in good taste for either of us to counsel public opposition to the bill before Parliament....I wrote you about Miss ——. She is settled in the conviction that she never will marry any man—not even the one with whom she has had so close a friendship for the past ten years. She feels that to do the work for the world which she has mapped out she must eschew marriage, accepting platonic friendship but no more. I tell her she is giving her nature a severe trial by allowing herself this one particular friend, that if he does not in the end succeed in getting her to marry him, it will be the first escape I ever have heard of. She is a charming, earnest, conscientious woman, and I feel deeply interested in her experiment.

London, July 19.

My Dear Rachel: ... I am to attend a suffrage meeting at the Westminster Palace Hotel Hall this afternoon, and tomorrow at 10:25a. m.I start for Edinburgh with Mrs. Moore. I am bound to suck all the honeypossible out of everybody and everything as they come to me or I go to them. It is such unwisdom, such unhappiness, not to look for and think and talk of the best in all things and all people; so you see at threescore and three I am still trying always to keep the bright and right side up. I am expecting a great ferment at the meeting today, for those who agree with Mrs. Jacob Bright have asked Mrs. Stanton to confer with them about what they shall do now. She advises them to demand suffrage for all women, married and single; but I contend that it is not in good taste for either of us to counsel public opposition to the bill before Parliament....

I wrote you about Miss ——. She is settled in the conviction that she never will marry any man—not even the one with whom she has had so close a friendship for the past ten years. She feels that to do the work for the world which she has mapped out she must eschew marriage, accepting platonic friendship but no more. I tell her she is giving her nature a severe trial by allowing herself this one particular friend, that if he does not in the end succeed in getting her to marry him, it will be the first escape I ever have heard of. She is a charming, earnest, conscientious woman, and I feel deeply interested in her experiment.

[After being royally entertained in London and making many little trips into the beautiful country around, Miss Anthony left for Edinburgh July 20, carrying with her many pleasant remembrances of friends.]

Edinburgh, July 22.My Dear Sister: Here I am in Huntley Lodge, the delightful home of Mrs. Elizabeth Pease Nichol, whose name we so often used to see in the Liberator and the Anti-Slavery Standard, and of whom we used to hear from Mr. Phillips and others who had visited England. We had a most cordial welcome from Mrs. Nichol—a queenly woman. She is now seventy-seven, and lives in this handsome house, two miles from the center of the city, with only her servants....Mrs. Nichol has gone to her room to rest and Mrs. Moore and I are writing in the little, sunny southeast parlor. I have an elegant suite of three rooms, the same Mr. Garrison occupied when he visited here in 1867 and in 1877. Mrs. Nichol is one of the few left of that historic World's Anti-Slavery Convention of 1840. We are going to a "substantial tea" with Dr. Agnes McLaren, daughter of Duncan McLaren. She is very bright—spent four years in France studying her profession—has a good practice, takes a house by herself, and invites to it her friends. So many young Englishwomen are doing this, and indeed it is a good thing for single women to do.The suffrage society—Eliza Wigham, president, Jessie M. Wellstood, secretary—has invited a hundred or more of the friends to an afternoon tea on Tuesday next in honor of my visit, and I am to make a brief speech, so what to say and how to say it come uppermost with me again....

Edinburgh, July 22.

My Dear Sister: Here I am in Huntley Lodge, the delightful home of Mrs. Elizabeth Pease Nichol, whose name we so often used to see in the Liberator and the Anti-Slavery Standard, and of whom we used to hear from Mr. Phillips and others who had visited England. We had a most cordial welcome from Mrs. Nichol—a queenly woman. She is now seventy-seven, and lives in this handsome house, two miles from the center of the city, with only her servants....

Mrs. Nichol has gone to her room to rest and Mrs. Moore and I are writing in the little, sunny southeast parlor. I have an elegant suite of three rooms, the same Mr. Garrison occupied when he visited here in 1867 and in 1877. Mrs. Nichol is one of the few left of that historic World's Anti-Slavery Convention of 1840. We are going to a "substantial tea" with Dr. Agnes McLaren, daughter of Duncan McLaren. She is very bright—spent four years in France studying her profession—has a good practice, takes a house by herself, and invites to it her friends. So many young Englishwomen are doing this, and indeed it is a good thing for single women to do.

The suffrage society—Eliza Wigham, president, Jessie M. Wellstood, secretary—has invited a hundred or more of the friends to an afternoon tea on Tuesday next in honor of my visit, and I am to make a brief speech, so what to say and how to say it come uppermost with me again....

Elizabeth Pease Nichol (Signed: "Elizabeth Pease Nichol")

The Raven Hotel, Droitwich, August 5.My Dear Friend Susan B. Anthony: I have often wished to write thee since we parted in London, my heart has been so full of loving thought. It has been a greater trial than I can describe that I have been denied the pleasure of receiving thee in my home in Edinburgh. If it had been only for an hour, I should have looked back on that hour as one of great privilege. But even if we should not meet again, I have had a pleasure which seems almost like a dream to me, in having made the personal acquaintance of thyself and dear Mrs. Stanton....That thou shouldst have been on the 1st of August with the Elizabeth Pease of those grand anti-slavery times, revived in me the thought I expressed in moving a vote of thanks to thee and Mrs. Cady Stanton for the noble addresses you gave at the Prince's Hall Meeting in London; ... that you had been brought here to give us the hand of rejoicing fellowship; and that it gave me great faith to believe the God of Justice was leading us on, and had brought England and America together by your presence amongst us at this most critical and hopeful time of our agitation....I have addressed thee in the dear singular person, because it seemed to me in harmony with the noble simplicity of thy character, and also more affectionate—just as I feel toward thee. Believe me, dear friend—I love so to call thee—thine very affectionately,Priscilla Bright McLaren.

The Raven Hotel, Droitwich, August 5.

My Dear Friend Susan B. Anthony: I have often wished to write thee since we parted in London, my heart has been so full of loving thought. It has been a greater trial than I can describe that I have been denied the pleasure of receiving thee in my home in Edinburgh. If it had been only for an hour, I should have looked back on that hour as one of great privilege. But even if we should not meet again, I have had a pleasure which seems almost like a dream to me, in having made the personal acquaintance of thyself and dear Mrs. Stanton....

That thou shouldst have been on the 1st of August with the Elizabeth Pease of those grand anti-slavery times, revived in me the thought I expressed in moving a vote of thanks to thee and Mrs. Cady Stanton for the noble addresses you gave at the Prince's Hall Meeting in London; ... that you had been brought here to give us the hand of rejoicing fellowship; and that it gave me great faith to believe the God of Justice was leading us on, and had brought England and America together by your presence amongst us at this most critical and hopeful time of our agitation....

I have addressed thee in the dear singular person, because it seemed to me in harmony with the noble simplicity of thy character, and also more affectionate—just as I feel toward thee. Believe me, dear friend—I love so to call thee—thine very affectionately,

Priscilla Bright McLaren.

[The diary notes many teas and luncheons in Edinburgh, drives to Melrose Abbey, Holyrood Palace, Roslyn Castle, to the celebrated monuments, the old cathedrals and the university; calls from distinguished professors and those interested in philanthropic movements, visits to public institutions, and lovely gifts from the new friends. Every day of the month was filled with pleasant incidents. The scenery through the lake and mountain regions Miss Anthony found so beautiful that, although there was a steady downpour of rain for days, she sat on the outside of boat or stage in order not to miss a moment of it. She hunted up the old home of Thomas Clarkson but could not find there a person who ever had heard of him. She went also to the Friends' meeting house at Ulverston, presented to the Society by George Fox and completed in 1688. To her such spots as these were more interesting and hallowed than towering castles and vine-clad abbeys.]

Ballachulish Hotel, August 13.My Dear Sister: Miss Julia Osgood and I are here, waiting for sunshine.... While in Edinburgh Mrs. Nichol drove us out to Craigmillar Castle, where I saw the very rooms in which Queen Mary lived. We bought for a shilling a basket of strawberries plucked—no, "pulled"—the old man whosold them said, from the very garden in which berries and vegetables were "pulled" for Queen Mary three hundred years ago. One evening Professor Blackie, of the Edinburgh University, dined with Mrs. Nichol. At my reception he had said he did not want to "see refined, delicate women going down into the muddy pool of politics," and I asked him if he had ever thought that, since the only places which were too filthy for women were those where men alone went, perhaps they might be so from lack of women. At dinner Mrs. Nichol rallied him on the report that he had been converted, and he admitted that it was true; so as he was leaving I said, "Then I am to reckon an Edinboro' professor among my converts?" He seized my hand and kissed it, saying, "I'll seal it with a kiss." Don't be alarmed—he is fully eighty years of age but blithe and frolicsome—sang and acted out a Scotch war-song in the real Gaelic.On August 1 we saw 200 medical students capped—and not a woman among them, because the powers ruled that none should be admitted. That afternoon we called on Professor Masson, a great champion of co-education. We took tea with Mrs. Jane and Miss Eliza Wigham. The stepmother, now eighty-two, was Jane Smeale in 1840. In their house have visited Henry C. Wright, Parker Pillsbury, and of course Mr. Garrison. Mrs. Nichol went with us to Melrose by rail, from which we drove to Abbotsford....Tuesday at 2 o'clock Miss Osgood and I landed at Stirling. At 4:30 we reached Callander, where I found no trunk, and not a man of them could give a guess as to its whereabouts. They give you no check here, but just stick a patch on your trunk. I had expected not to find it at every stop, and now it was gone for sure; but the station-master was certain he could find it and forward it to me, so he wrote out its description and telegraphed in every direction. Meanwhile we went to a hotel for luncheon and there in the hall was my trunk! Nobody knew why or how it got there and all acknowledged our American check system superior. I was raging at their stupidity, and no system at all, but laughingly said, "You ought to send this trunk free a thousand miles to pay for my big scold at you." The man good-naturedly replied, "Where will you have it sent?" I answered "Oban," and he booked it.At 6 o'clock we took the front seat with the driver on a great high stage which we mounted by a ladder—they call the stage the "machine"—and drove a few miles to the Trossachs Hotel, past Loch Achray and Loch Vennachar.... While the rain rested this noon I took a walk up the ravine and it seemed very like going up the mountain at Grandfather Anthony's. Indeed, there is nothing here more beautiful than we have in America, only everything has some historic or poetic association....

Ballachulish Hotel, August 13.

My Dear Sister: Miss Julia Osgood and I are here, waiting for sunshine.... While in Edinburgh Mrs. Nichol drove us out to Craigmillar Castle, where I saw the very rooms in which Queen Mary lived. We bought for a shilling a basket of strawberries plucked—no, "pulled"—the old man whosold them said, from the very garden in which berries and vegetables were "pulled" for Queen Mary three hundred years ago. One evening Professor Blackie, of the Edinburgh University, dined with Mrs. Nichol. At my reception he had said he did not want to "see refined, delicate women going down into the muddy pool of politics," and I asked him if he had ever thought that, since the only places which were too filthy for women were those where men alone went, perhaps they might be so from lack of women. At dinner Mrs. Nichol rallied him on the report that he had been converted, and he admitted that it was true; so as he was leaving I said, "Then I am to reckon an Edinboro' professor among my converts?" He seized my hand and kissed it, saying, "I'll seal it with a kiss." Don't be alarmed—he is fully eighty years of age but blithe and frolicsome—sang and acted out a Scotch war-song in the real Gaelic.

On August 1 we saw 200 medical students capped—and not a woman among them, because the powers ruled that none should be admitted. That afternoon we called on Professor Masson, a great champion of co-education. We took tea with Mrs. Jane and Miss Eliza Wigham. The stepmother, now eighty-two, was Jane Smeale in 1840. In their house have visited Henry C. Wright, Parker Pillsbury, and of course Mr. Garrison. Mrs. Nichol went with us to Melrose by rail, from which we drove to Abbotsford....

Tuesday at 2 o'clock Miss Osgood and I landed at Stirling. At 4:30 we reached Callander, where I found no trunk, and not a man of them could give a guess as to its whereabouts. They give you no check here, but just stick a patch on your trunk. I had expected not to find it at every stop, and now it was gone for sure; but the station-master was certain he could find it and forward it to me, so he wrote out its description and telegraphed in every direction. Meanwhile we went to a hotel for luncheon and there in the hall was my trunk! Nobody knew why or how it got there and all acknowledged our American check system superior. I was raging at their stupidity, and no system at all, but laughingly said, "You ought to send this trunk free a thousand miles to pay for my big scold at you." The man good-naturedly replied, "Where will you have it sent?" I answered "Oban," and he booked it.

At 6 o'clock we took the front seat with the driver on a great high stage which we mounted by a ladder—they call the stage the "machine"—and drove a few miles to the Trossachs Hotel, past Loch Achray and Loch Vennachar.... While the rain rested this noon I took a walk up the ravine and it seemed very like going up the mountain at Grandfather Anthony's. Indeed, there is nothing here more beautiful than we have in America, only everything has some historic or poetic association....

Bruntsfield Lodge, Whitehouse Loan, Edinburgh, August 23.My Dear Sister: Here am I, back in Edinboro' again, at Dr. Jex-Blake's delightful home—at least one hundred and fifty years old, with an acre or more of garden all enclosed with a six-foot wall. Lodge means a walled-in house; loan means lane, and the street took its name from a white house which two hundred and fifty years ago stood in this road. Every day the doctor has taken me a long and beautiful ride in her basket-carriage, driving her own little pony, White Angel, or her hay horse, while her boy-groom rides in his perch behind. Today she drove me through Lord Rosebery'spark of thousands of acres. It is lovely as a native forest—the roads macadamized all through—and a palace-like residence set deep within....

Bruntsfield Lodge, Whitehouse Loan, Edinburgh, August 23.

My Dear Sister: Here am I, back in Edinboro' again, at Dr. Jex-Blake's delightful home—at least one hundred and fifty years old, with an acre or more of garden all enclosed with a six-foot wall. Lodge means a walled-in house; loan means lane, and the street took its name from a white house which two hundred and fifty years ago stood in this road. Every day the doctor has taken me a long and beautiful ride in her basket-carriage, driving her own little pony, White Angel, or her hay horse, while her boy-groom rides in his perch behind. Today she drove me through Lord Rosebery'spark of thousands of acres. It is lovely as a native forest—the roads macadamized all through—and a palace-like residence set deep within....

Ambleside, August 27.My Dear Sister: Last Thursday I left Edinburgh for Penrith, which has a fine view of the lake and the hills beyond. Next morning I took steamer at Pooley Bridge. The trip the whole length of the lake was beautiful, but can not compare with Lake George—indeed, nothing I have seen equals that—but the hills (mountains, they call them here), the water and the sky all were lovely. At Patterdale I had a cup of tea, with bread and butter and the veritable orange marmalade manufactured at Dundee. Thence I took a stage over Kirkstone Pass, and walked two miles up the hills to a small hotel with a signboard saying it is the highest inhabited house in England, 1,114 feet above the sea—not very much beside Denver's 6,000 and others in Colorado 10,000 or 12,000. Arrived at Ambleside to find the hotel overflowing, so they sent me to a farmer's house where I had a good bed, splendid milk and sweet butter. Saturday morning I went by coach to Coniston, then railway to Furness Abbey, a seven-hundred-year-old ruin of magnificent proportions. After four hours there, I took a train to Lakeside and then steamer up Lake Windermere back to Ambleside. The hotel still being full, "the Boots," as they call the porter or runner, found me lodgings at a private house, where I am now. It is the tiniest little stone cottage, but they have a cow, so I am in clover. My breakfasts consist of a bit of ham, cured by the hostess, a boiled egg, white and graham bread with butter and currant jam, and a cup of tea.Saturday evening I strolled out and entered the gate of Harriet Martineau's home. On the terrace I met the present occupants, Mr. and Mrs. William Henry Hills. They invited me to call in the morning, when they would be happy to show me over the house. In naming the hour they said: "We never go to church—we are Liberal Friends—realFriends." At that I immediately felt at home with them. I called and spent two hours sitting and chatting in the drawing-room where Harriet Martineau received her many distinguished guests, and in the kitchen saw the very same table, chairs and range which were there when she died, and sitting on the doorsill was the same black-and-yellow cat, said to be fourteen years old now. The Hills invited me to 5 o'clock tea, which we took in the library, where Miss Martineau used to sit and study as well as entertain her guests at dinner. It seemed impossible to realize that I was actually in her house. It is not large and is covered with ivy, which grows most luxuriantly everywhere. It fronts on a large field, much lower than the knoll on which it stands, and fine hills stretch off beyond. The old gardener, who has been here more than thirty years, still lives in a little stone cottage just under the terrace.

Ambleside, August 27.

My Dear Sister: Last Thursday I left Edinburgh for Penrith, which has a fine view of the lake and the hills beyond. Next morning I took steamer at Pooley Bridge. The trip the whole length of the lake was beautiful, but can not compare with Lake George—indeed, nothing I have seen equals that—but the hills (mountains, they call them here), the water and the sky all were lovely. At Patterdale I had a cup of tea, with bread and butter and the veritable orange marmalade manufactured at Dundee. Thence I took a stage over Kirkstone Pass, and walked two miles up the hills to a small hotel with a signboard saying it is the highest inhabited house in England, 1,114 feet above the sea—not very much beside Denver's 6,000 and others in Colorado 10,000 or 12,000. Arrived at Ambleside to find the hotel overflowing, so they sent me to a farmer's house where I had a good bed, splendid milk and sweet butter. Saturday morning I went by coach to Coniston, then railway to Furness Abbey, a seven-hundred-year-old ruin of magnificent proportions. After four hours there, I took a train to Lakeside and then steamer up Lake Windermere back to Ambleside. The hotel still being full, "the Boots," as they call the porter or runner, found me lodgings at a private house, where I am now. It is the tiniest little stone cottage, but they have a cow, so I am in clover. My breakfasts consist of a bit of ham, cured by the hostess, a boiled egg, white and graham bread with butter and currant jam, and a cup of tea.

Saturday evening I strolled out and entered the gate of Harriet Martineau's home. On the terrace I met the present occupants, Mr. and Mrs. William Henry Hills. They invited me to call in the morning, when they would be happy to show me over the house. In naming the hour they said: "We never go to church—we are Liberal Friends—realFriends." At that I immediately felt at home with them. I called and spent two hours sitting and chatting in the drawing-room where Harriet Martineau received her many distinguished guests, and in the kitchen saw the very same table, chairs and range which were there when she died, and sitting on the doorsill was the same black-and-yellow cat, said to be fourteen years old now. The Hills invited me to 5 o'clock tea, which we took in the library, where Miss Martineau used to sit and study as well as entertain her guests at dinner. It seemed impossible to realize that I was actually in her house. It is not large and is covered with ivy, which grows most luxuriantly everywhere. It fronts on a large field, much lower than the knoll on which it stands, and fine hills stretch off beyond. The old gardener, who has been here more than thirty years, still lives in a little stone cottage just under the terrace.

Autograph: "Yours affectionately, H. Martineau."

Mr. Hills is a great lover of America and its institutions. He is one of the very few I have met here who really love republicanism. Nearly every oneclings to the caste and class principle, thinks the world can not exist if a portion of the people are not doomed to be servants, and that for the poor to have an ambition to rise and become something more than their parents makes them discontented. "Yes," I answer, "and that is just what I want them to be, because it is only through a wholesome discontent with things as they are, that we ever try to make them any better."...

Mr. Hills is a great lover of America and its institutions. He is one of the very few I have met here who really love republicanism. Nearly every oneclings to the caste and class principle, thinks the world can not exist if a portion of the people are not doomed to be servants, and that for the poor to have an ambition to rise and become something more than their parents makes them discontented. "Yes," I answer, "and that is just what I want them to be, because it is only through a wholesome discontent with things as they are, that we ever try to make them any better."...

Dublin, September 10.My Dear Sister: ... I stayed in Belfast some days, and visited the Giant's Causeway with Miss Isabella Tod, amidst sunshine and drenching showers; still it was a splendid sight, fully equal to Fingal's Cave. The day before, we went nearly one hundred miles into the country to a village where she spoke at a temperance meeting. Here we were guests of the Presbyterian minister—a cousin of Joseph Medill, of the Chicago Tribune—and a cordial greeting he and his bright wife gave me. They have three Presbyterian churches in that one little village. All welcomed the woman speaker most kindly, but not a person could be urged to vote down the whiskey shops, as these are licensed by a justice of the peace, appointed by the Lord Chancellor of Ireland, who receives his appointment from the Queen of England!

Dublin, September 10.

My Dear Sister: ... I stayed in Belfast some days, and visited the Giant's Causeway with Miss Isabella Tod, amidst sunshine and drenching showers; still it was a splendid sight, fully equal to Fingal's Cave. The day before, we went nearly one hundred miles into the country to a village where she spoke at a temperance meeting. Here we were guests of the Presbyterian minister—a cousin of Joseph Medill, of the Chicago Tribune—and a cordial greeting he and his bright wife gave me. They have three Presbyterian churches in that one little village. All welcomed the woman speaker most kindly, but not a person could be urged to vote down the whiskey shops, as these are licensed by a justice of the peace, appointed by the Lord Chancellor of Ireland, who receives his appointment from the Queen of England!

Autograph: "Yours most truly, Isabella M. S. Tod"

So all she could ask was that every one should become a total abstainer. I do not see how they can submit to be thus voiceless as to their own home regulations.Saturday I took tea with Mrs. Haslam, a bright, lovely "come-outer" from the Friends. She had invited some twenty or thirty to be present at eight, and I spoke, they asking questions and I answering. Among them were a son of the Abolitionist Richard D. Webb, and ever so many nephews and nieces. Eliza Wigham's brother Henry and his wife had come ten miles to be there.... This afternoon I am going to the common council meeting with Alfred Webb, who is a member and a strong Home Ruler. The question of electing their own tax collector is to be discussed.

So all she could ask was that every one should become a total abstainer. I do not see how they can submit to be thus voiceless as to their own home regulations.

Saturday I took tea with Mrs. Haslam, a bright, lovely "come-outer" from the Friends. She had invited some twenty or thirty to be present at eight, and I spoke, they asking questions and I answering. Among them were a son of the Abolitionist Richard D. Webb, and ever so many nephews and nieces. Eliza Wigham's brother Henry and his wife had come ten miles to be there.... This afternoon I am going to the common council meeting with Alfred Webb, who is a member and a strong Home Ruler. The question of electing their own tax collector is to be discussed.

Cork, September 16.My Dear Sister: ... Your heart would break if you were here to see the poverty and rags, and yet the people seem cheerful under it all. Something surely must be wrong at the root to bear such fruit. I have had an awfully "hard side of a board time" of ten hours in a third-class car, paying therefor just as much as I would on the N. Y. Central for a first-class ticket. I not only saved $4.25 by going third-class, but I saw the natives. Men, women, boys and girls who had been to the market towns with their produce were on the train, and to see them as they tumbled in toward evening, at townafter town, one would think that whiskey and tobacco were the main articles they bought. Any number of men and boys, and at least four women, were drunk enough, and they brought bottles with them and added to their puling idiocy as they went on. Nothing short of a pig-sty could match the filth, but it is only in that class of cars that you see anything of the vast number of poor farmers and laborers. If they can not pay exorbitant rates, refined, educated men and women are thrust into pens and seated face to face with the smoking, drinking, carousing rabble. I have everywhere protested against this outrage and urged the women to demand that the railway companies should give them separate cars, with no smoking allowed....

Cork, September 16.

My Dear Sister: ... Your heart would break if you were here to see the poverty and rags, and yet the people seem cheerful under it all. Something surely must be wrong at the root to bear such fruit. I have had an awfully "hard side of a board time" of ten hours in a third-class car, paying therefor just as much as I would on the N. Y. Central for a first-class ticket. I not only saved $4.25 by going third-class, but I saw the natives. Men, women, boys and girls who had been to the market towns with their produce were on the train, and to see them as they tumbled in toward evening, at townafter town, one would think that whiskey and tobacco were the main articles they bought. Any number of men and boys, and at least four women, were drunk enough, and they brought bottles with them and added to their puling idiocy as they went on. Nothing short of a pig-sty could match the filth, but it is only in that class of cars that you see anything of the vast number of poor farmers and laborers. If they can not pay exorbitant rates, refined, educated men and women are thrust into pens and seated face to face with the smoking, drinking, carousing rabble. I have everywhere protested against this outrage and urged the women to demand that the railway companies should give them separate cars, with no smoking allowed....

Leamington, October 1.My Dear Rachel: ... I must have told you of my good times at Belfast with Miss Tod, who gave a reception for me and I had a welcome all round.Miss Osgood met me at Cork, and we went by rail to Macroom. Tuesday morning we visited the convent, nuns' schools, and the poorhouse with 400 helpless mortals, old and young; then took an Irish jaunting-car, and were driven some forty miles through "the Gap" to Glengariff. It rained almost all the way, much to our disgust. Next morning we packed into two great stages with thirty or more others, and started for the lakes of Killarney; but soon the rain poured again, and as we were losing so much of the scenery we stopped half-way at Kenmare. We visited the convent and the Mother Abbess showed us every cranny. Thirty girls were at work on beautiful Irish point and Limerick lace. These nuns have 400 pupils, and give 200 of the poorest their breakfast and lunch—porridge and a bit of bread. At two we took stage again, the sky looked promising, but alas! for half an hour it fairly poured. Then it grew lighter, and we got very fine views of hills and dales. Killarneyislovely....Saturday I sauntered along the streets of Killarney, passed the market, and saw all sorts of poor humanity coming in with their cattle to sell or to buy. Many rode in two-wheeled carts without seat or spring, drawn by little donkeys, and nearly all the women and girls were bareheaded and barefooted. On the bridge I saw some boys looking down. I looked too and there was a spectacle—a ragged, bareheaded, barefooted woman tossing a wee baby over her shoulders and trying to get her apron switched around to hold it fast on her back. I heard her say to herself, "I'll niver do it," so I said, "Boys, one of you run down there and help her." At that instant she succeeded in getting the baby adjusted, and to my horror took up a bundle from the grass and disclosed a second baby! ThenIwent down. I learned that she had just come from the poorhouse, where she had spent six weeks, and before going further had laid her two three-weeks-old boys on the cold, wet grass, while she washed out their clothes in the stream. The clothing was the merest rags, all scrambled up in a damp bundle. She had heard her old mother was ill in Milltown and had "fretted" about her till she could bear it no longer, so had started to walk ten miles to her. I hailed a boy with a jaunting-car—told her to wait and I would take her home—got my luncheon—fed the boy's horse, bought lunch for boy and woman—and off we went, she sitting on one side ofthe car with her two babies, wet bundle, two milk bottles and rubber appendages, bare feet and flying hair, and I on the other, with the boy in front.For a long way both babies cried; they were blue as pigeons, and had on nothing but little calico slips, no socks even. She had four children older than these—a husband who went to fairs selling papers and anything he could to support them all—and an aged father and mother who lived with them. She said if God had given her only one child, she could still help earn something to live on, but now He had given her two, she couldn't. When we reached Milltown I followed her home. It was in a long row of one-room things with a door—but no window. Some peat was smouldering under a hole in the roof called a chimney, and the place was thick with smoke. On the floor in one corner was some straw with a blanket on it, which she said was her bed; in another were some boards fastened into bed-shape, with straw packed in, and this belonged to her father and mother. Where the four other children, with the chickens and the pig, found their places to sleep, I couldn't see. I went to the home of another tenant, and there again was one room, and sitting around a pile of smoking-hot potatoes on the cold, wet ground—not a board or even a flag-stone for a floor—were six ragged, dirty children. Not a knife, fork, spoon or platter was to be seen. The man was out working for a farmer, his wife said, and the evidences were that "God" was about to add a No. 7 to her flock. What a dreadful creature their God must be to keep sending hungry mouths while he withholds the bread to fill them!...I went back to Killarney heart-sick; wrote letters Sunday, and Monday took train for Limerick, where I rushed round for an hour or two.... Then went on to Galway. Tuesday morning took the mail-car to Connemara, and had company all the way—a judge, an Irish M.P., and two Dublin drummers—with whom I talked over the Irish problem. I had meant to make the tour of the western coast up to Londonderry, but my courage failed. It was to be the same soul-sickening sight all the way—only, I was assured, worse than anything yet seen. I took the stage back to Galway, every one saying it was sure to be a fine day, but it proved to be terrific wind and rain, and before I had gone ten miles my seat was a pool of water and it took all my skill to keep my umbrella right side out.... Once while the driver changed horses I stood in front of a big fire on the hearth of the best farmer's house I have seen here. Everything was clean and cheerful—two rooms—a bed made up with a spotless white spread—the old father smoking and the wife cooking dinner. She lifted a wooden cover from a jar and proudly showed me her butter—patted down with her hands, I could see—and near by was another jar with milk. Think of butter being made in a room full of tobacco-smoke! Then I went my last ten out of the fifty miles, having been soaking wet for eight hours. At my hotel I had room and fire on a "double-quick," bath-tub and hot water, and put myself through a regular grooming. In the morning I rode around Galway, saw Queen's College and the bay, and then took train for Belfast.

Leamington, October 1.

My Dear Rachel: ... I must have told you of my good times at Belfast with Miss Tod, who gave a reception for me and I had a welcome all round.

Miss Osgood met me at Cork, and we went by rail to Macroom. Tuesday morning we visited the convent, nuns' schools, and the poorhouse with 400 helpless mortals, old and young; then took an Irish jaunting-car, and were driven some forty miles through "the Gap" to Glengariff. It rained almost all the way, much to our disgust. Next morning we packed into two great stages with thirty or more others, and started for the lakes of Killarney; but soon the rain poured again, and as we were losing so much of the scenery we stopped half-way at Kenmare. We visited the convent and the Mother Abbess showed us every cranny. Thirty girls were at work on beautiful Irish point and Limerick lace. These nuns have 400 pupils, and give 200 of the poorest their breakfast and lunch—porridge and a bit of bread. At two we took stage again, the sky looked promising, but alas! for half an hour it fairly poured. Then it grew lighter, and we got very fine views of hills and dales. Killarneyislovely....

Saturday I sauntered along the streets of Killarney, passed the market, and saw all sorts of poor humanity coming in with their cattle to sell or to buy. Many rode in two-wheeled carts without seat or spring, drawn by little donkeys, and nearly all the women and girls were bareheaded and barefooted. On the bridge I saw some boys looking down. I looked too and there was a spectacle—a ragged, bareheaded, barefooted woman tossing a wee baby over her shoulders and trying to get her apron switched around to hold it fast on her back. I heard her say to herself, "I'll niver do it," so I said, "Boys, one of you run down there and help her." At that instant she succeeded in getting the baby adjusted, and to my horror took up a bundle from the grass and disclosed a second baby! ThenIwent down. I learned that she had just come from the poorhouse, where she had spent six weeks, and before going further had laid her two three-weeks-old boys on the cold, wet grass, while she washed out their clothes in the stream. The clothing was the merest rags, all scrambled up in a damp bundle. She had heard her old mother was ill in Milltown and had "fretted" about her till she could bear it no longer, so had started to walk ten miles to her. I hailed a boy with a jaunting-car—told her to wait and I would take her home—got my luncheon—fed the boy's horse, bought lunch for boy and woman—and off we went, she sitting on one side ofthe car with her two babies, wet bundle, two milk bottles and rubber appendages, bare feet and flying hair, and I on the other, with the boy in front.

For a long way both babies cried; they were blue as pigeons, and had on nothing but little calico slips, no socks even. She had four children older than these—a husband who went to fairs selling papers and anything he could to support them all—and an aged father and mother who lived with them. She said if God had given her only one child, she could still help earn something to live on, but now He had given her two, she couldn't. When we reached Milltown I followed her home. It was in a long row of one-room things with a door—but no window. Some peat was smouldering under a hole in the roof called a chimney, and the place was thick with smoke. On the floor in one corner was some straw with a blanket on it, which she said was her bed; in another were some boards fastened into bed-shape, with straw packed in, and this belonged to her father and mother. Where the four other children, with the chickens and the pig, found their places to sleep, I couldn't see. I went to the home of another tenant, and there again was one room, and sitting around a pile of smoking-hot potatoes on the cold, wet ground—not a board or even a flag-stone for a floor—were six ragged, dirty children. Not a knife, fork, spoon or platter was to be seen. The man was out working for a farmer, his wife said, and the evidences were that "God" was about to add a No. 7 to her flock. What a dreadful creature their God must be to keep sending hungry mouths while he withholds the bread to fill them!...

I went back to Killarney heart-sick; wrote letters Sunday, and Monday took train for Limerick, where I rushed round for an hour or two.... Then went on to Galway. Tuesday morning took the mail-car to Connemara, and had company all the way—a judge, an Irish M.P., and two Dublin drummers—with whom I talked over the Irish problem. I had meant to make the tour of the western coast up to Londonderry, but my courage failed. It was to be the same soul-sickening sight all the way—only, I was assured, worse than anything yet seen. I took the stage back to Galway, every one saying it was sure to be a fine day, but it proved to be terrific wind and rain, and before I had gone ten miles my seat was a pool of water and it took all my skill to keep my umbrella right side out.... Once while the driver changed horses I stood in front of a big fire on the hearth of the best farmer's house I have seen here. Everything was clean and cheerful—two rooms—a bed made up with a spotless white spread—the old father smoking and the wife cooking dinner. She lifted a wooden cover from a jar and proudly showed me her butter—patted down with her hands, I could see—and near by was another jar with milk. Think of butter being made in a room full of tobacco-smoke! Then I went my last ten out of the fifty miles, having been soaking wet for eight hours. At my hotel I had room and fire on a "double-quick," bath-tub and hot water, and put myself through a regular grooming. In the morning I rode around Galway, saw Queen's College and the bay, and then took train for Belfast.

From the diary:

Sept. 11.—In Dublin. The Professor of Arabic took me through Trinity College, with its library of 200,000 volumes. Thence to the old Parliament House, now the Bank of Ireland. In the afternoon Alfred Webb went with me to the National League rooms and from there to Thomas Webb's for tea, where I saw the names of Garrison and N. P. Rogers written in 1840. We called on Michael Davitt, the leader of the Irish Land League, who impressed me as an earnest, honest man, deeply-rooted in the principles of freedom and equality, and claiming all for woman that he does for man.Sept. 16.—At Youghal. Visited the home of Sir Walter Raleigh, Lady Hennessy, eighty years old, showing me around. Found in a library Children of the Abbey, and read again the story of Lord Mortimer and Amanda. Once it thrilled my young soul, but now it seems inexpressibly thin.Sept. 20.—While I was talking in the car today with an Irishwoman about the poverty here, another behind me shouted: "It is very ill manners for an American to come over here and abuse the English government."Sept. 29.—In Belfast. O, how I would like to purchaseallthe linen I want for myself and my friends! Have bought as much as I dared and after all perhaps I'm cheated—but it's done, so I won't worry.Sept. 30.—Landed at Fleetwood and went direct to Rugby. Walked all around the famous school, but had not courage to go in and introduce myself to Doctor Jex-Blake, whose sister's guest I had so recently been.Oct. 1.—At Leamington. Went direct to Kenilworth Castle, a grand old ruin; the home of Leicester, where Queen Elizabeth visited him in the olden days.Oct. 2.—Mrs. Mullinor called at our hotel and accompanied us to Warwick Castle, a splendid pile. We lunched with her, and when Mr. M. put fork into the roast he remarked: "Wife asked me what she should order for dinner and I said, 'a leg of mutton, for Americans never see such a thing at home.'" We smiled and ate it with a relish.Oct. 3.—At Stratford on Avon, and we have visited every spot sacred to the memory of Shakespeare, and walked through the meadows and down by the riverside....Oct. 4.—In Oxford. I have visited many of the colleges, and as I saw where all the millions of dollars had been expended for the education of boys alone, I groaned in spirit and betook me to Somerville and St. Margaret's Halls, where at least there is a shelter for girls, and a beginning.Oct. 5.—In London; and how almost like getting home it seems to come back here.

Sept. 11.—In Dublin. The Professor of Arabic took me through Trinity College, with its library of 200,000 volumes. Thence to the old Parliament House, now the Bank of Ireland. In the afternoon Alfred Webb went with me to the National League rooms and from there to Thomas Webb's for tea, where I saw the names of Garrison and N. P. Rogers written in 1840. We called on Michael Davitt, the leader of the Irish Land League, who impressed me as an earnest, honest man, deeply-rooted in the principles of freedom and equality, and claiming all for woman that he does for man.

Sept. 16.—At Youghal. Visited the home of Sir Walter Raleigh, Lady Hennessy, eighty years old, showing me around. Found in a library Children of the Abbey, and read again the story of Lord Mortimer and Amanda. Once it thrilled my young soul, but now it seems inexpressibly thin.

Sept. 20.—While I was talking in the car today with an Irishwoman about the poverty here, another behind me shouted: "It is very ill manners for an American to come over here and abuse the English government."

Sept. 29.—In Belfast. O, how I would like to purchaseallthe linen I want for myself and my friends! Have bought as much as I dared and after all perhaps I'm cheated—but it's done, so I won't worry.

Sept. 30.—Landed at Fleetwood and went direct to Rugby. Walked all around the famous school, but had not courage to go in and introduce myself to Doctor Jex-Blake, whose sister's guest I had so recently been.

Oct. 1.—At Leamington. Went direct to Kenilworth Castle, a grand old ruin; the home of Leicester, where Queen Elizabeth visited him in the olden days.

Oct. 2.—Mrs. Mullinor called at our hotel and accompanied us to Warwick Castle, a splendid pile. We lunched with her, and when Mr. M. put fork into the roast he remarked: "Wife asked me what she should order for dinner and I said, 'a leg of mutton, for Americans never see such a thing at home.'" We smiled and ate it with a relish.

Oct. 3.—At Stratford on Avon, and we have visited every spot sacred to the memory of Shakespeare, and walked through the meadows and down by the riverside....

Oct. 4.—In Oxford. I have visited many of the colleges, and as I saw where all the millions of dollars had been expended for the education of boys alone, I groaned in spirit and betook me to Somerville and St. Margaret's Halls, where at least there is a shelter for girls, and a beginning.

Oct. 5.—In London; and how almost like getting home it seems to come back here.

London, October 7.My Dear Sister: Mrs. Stanton feels that she must stay with Hattie till the baby is a month old, and then have a week for farewell visits in London. Cousins Fannie and Charles Dickinson are here. Today I learned that I should have a chance to see and hear John Bright at a convention of the Liberal Party at Leeds, October 17; all these together have made me put off leaving a little longer. Since yesterday we have been in the midst of a genuine London fog. It is now 10a. m.and even darker than it was two hours ago,when we dressed and breakfasted by gaslight. I saw smoky, foggy days here last March but they could not compare with this, and yet the people say, "O, this is nothing to what November will bring."...

London, October 7.

My Dear Sister: Mrs. Stanton feels that she must stay with Hattie till the baby is a month old, and then have a week for farewell visits in London. Cousins Fannie and Charles Dickinson are here. Today I learned that I should have a chance to see and hear John Bright at a convention of the Liberal Party at Leeds, October 17; all these together have made me put off leaving a little longer. Since yesterday we have been in the midst of a genuine London fog. It is now 10a. m.and even darker than it was two hours ago,when we dressed and breakfasted by gaslight. I saw smoky, foggy days here last March but they could not compare with this, and yet the people say, "O, this is nothing to what November will bring."...

London, October 27.My Dear Sister: Since I last wrote you I have visited Leeds where I was the guest of Mrs. Hannah Ford, who has an elegant home—Adel Grange. There were several other guests who had come to attend the great Liberal demonstration, among them Mrs. Margaret Priestman Tanner, a sister-in-law of John Bright, and his son Albert. Mrs. Alice Scatcherd, of Leeds, was the person who had the sagacity to get women sent as delegates and secure them admission on terms of perfect equality. The amendment was a great triumph. She invited the friends to meet next day at her house, where I saw John Bright's daughter, Mrs. Helen Clark, and Richard Cobden's, Miss Jane Cobden. Both made speeches at the convention, and most fitting it was they should—the daughters of the two leading Radicals of a half century ago.On Saturday, Mrs. Ford took me to Haworth, the home of the Brontë sisters. It is a bleak enough place now, and must have been even more so forty or fifty years ago when those sensitive plants lived there. A most sad day it was to me, as I looked into the little parlor where the sisters walked up and down with their arms around each other and planned their novels, or sat before the fireplace and built air-castles. Then there were the mouldering tombstones of the graveyard which lies in front and at one side of the house, and the old church-pew, directly over the vault where lay their loved mother and two sisters. And later, when Emily and Anne and the erring brother Branwell had joined the others, poor Charlotte sat there alone. The pew had to be removed every time the vault was opened to receive another occupant. Think of those delicate women sitting in that fireless, mouldy church, listening to their old father's dry, hard theology, with their feet on the cold, carpetless stones which covered their loved dead. It was too horrible! Then I walked over the single stone pathway through the fields toward the moor, opened the same wooden gates, and was, and still continue to be, dipped into the depths of their utter loneliness and sadness, born so out of time and place. How much the world of literature has lost because of their short and ill-environed lives, we can guess only from its increased wealth in spite of all their adverse conditions.From Leeds I went to Birmingham to attend an Anti-Contagious Diseases Acts conference, and there heard the serene, lovely Josephine E. Butler.Autograph: "Josephine E. Butler"Miss Müller has invited Mrs. Stanton and me to spend the rest of our time with her. Mrs. Lucas and some others are going to Liverpool to say good-by to us. The cordiality, instead of decreasing, grows greater and greater as the day of departure draws near.... I dread stepping on shipboard, but long to set foot upon my native soil again. Only think, I shall have been gone over nine months when I land in New York!

London, October 27.

My Dear Sister: Since I last wrote you I have visited Leeds where I was the guest of Mrs. Hannah Ford, who has an elegant home—Adel Grange. There were several other guests who had come to attend the great Liberal demonstration, among them Mrs. Margaret Priestman Tanner, a sister-in-law of John Bright, and his son Albert. Mrs. Alice Scatcherd, of Leeds, was the person who had the sagacity to get women sent as delegates and secure them admission on terms of perfect equality. The amendment was a great triumph. She invited the friends to meet next day at her house, where I saw John Bright's daughter, Mrs. Helen Clark, and Richard Cobden's, Miss Jane Cobden. Both made speeches at the convention, and most fitting it was they should—the daughters of the two leading Radicals of a half century ago.

On Saturday, Mrs. Ford took me to Haworth, the home of the Brontë sisters. It is a bleak enough place now, and must have been even more so forty or fifty years ago when those sensitive plants lived there. A most sad day it was to me, as I looked into the little parlor where the sisters walked up and down with their arms around each other and planned their novels, or sat before the fireplace and built air-castles. Then there were the mouldering tombstones of the graveyard which lies in front and at one side of the house, and the old church-pew, directly over the vault where lay their loved mother and two sisters. And later, when Emily and Anne and the erring brother Branwell had joined the others, poor Charlotte sat there alone. The pew had to be removed every time the vault was opened to receive another occupant. Think of those delicate women sitting in that fireless, mouldy church, listening to their old father's dry, hard theology, with their feet on the cold, carpetless stones which covered their loved dead. It was too horrible! Then I walked over the single stone pathway through the fields toward the moor, opened the same wooden gates, and was, and still continue to be, dipped into the depths of their utter loneliness and sadness, born so out of time and place. How much the world of literature has lost because of their short and ill-environed lives, we can guess only from its increased wealth in spite of all their adverse conditions.

From Leeds I went to Birmingham to attend an Anti-Contagious Diseases Acts conference, and there heard the serene, lovely Josephine E. Butler.

Autograph: "Josephine E. Butler"

Miss Müller has invited Mrs. Stanton and me to spend the rest of our time with her. Mrs. Lucas and some others are going to Liverpool to say good-by to us. The cordiality, instead of decreasing, grows greater and greater as the day of departure draws near.... I dread stepping on shipboard, but long to set foot upon my native soil again. Only think, I shall have been gone over nine months when I land in New York!

From the diary:

Oct. 13.—Last evening at Mrs. Rose's I met the daughter of Charles Bradlaugh, a talented young woman, whom the college refused to admit to botany lectures because of her father's atheism.Oct. 18.—At Leeds. Liberal party convention; went this evening to hear John Bright remember to forget to mention the extension of suffrage to women in 1869 and 1870, and the property law for married women in 1882. He did not meet my expectations as a speaker, but far surpasses any other Englishman I have heard. None of them can touch Wendell Phillips.Oct. 28.—Had a four hours' row on the Thames today with some friends. This evening went to hear Mrs. Annie Besant.Nov. 2.—Have been out to Basingstoke to see the new baby. Mrs. Mona Caird lunched with us. Have heard Michael Davitt, Mr. Fawcett and Helen Taylor, all masterly speakers.Autograph: "Sincerely Yours, Frances Power Cobbe"

Oct. 13.—Last evening at Mrs. Rose's I met the daughter of Charles Bradlaugh, a talented young woman, whom the college refused to admit to botany lectures because of her father's atheism.

Oct. 18.—At Leeds. Liberal party convention; went this evening to hear John Bright remember to forget to mention the extension of suffrage to women in 1869 and 1870, and the property law for married women in 1882. He did not meet my expectations as a speaker, but far surpasses any other Englishman I have heard. None of them can touch Wendell Phillips.

Oct. 28.—Had a four hours' row on the Thames today with some friends. This evening went to hear Mrs. Annie Besant.

Nov. 2.—Have been out to Basingstoke to see the new baby. Mrs. Mona Caird lunched with us. Have heard Michael Davitt, Mr. Fawcett and Helen Taylor, all masterly speakers.

Autograph: "Sincerely Yours, Frances Power Cobbe"

London, November 6.My Dear Sister: ... As soon as I finish this scribble I am to have 5 o'clock tea with Frances Power Cobbe. Tomorrow I go shopping, Thursday Millicent Garrett Fawcett is to dine with us, and Mrs. Peter Taylor is to call here, and all are to take "substantial tea" with dear, noble Mrs. Lucas, and then go to hear Henry Fawcett on the political issues. Friday afternoon we receive at Miss Müller's. Saturday morning I leave for Bristol to visit Miss Mary Estlin, Mrs. Tanner and the Misses Priestman, three sisters-in-law of John Bright, who give a reception in my honor. The 12th I visit Margaret E. Parker, at Warrington, and the next afternoon Mrs. Stanton and I both go to Alderley Edge, near Manchester, to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Bright.[18]On the 14th we attend the annual meeting of the ManchesterWomen's Suffrage Association, and on the 16th go to Liverpool where a reception will be given us in the afternoon. That evening we shall spend at our hotel with the friends who go to see us off, and on the 17th we give ourselves to old ocean's care in the Cunarder Servia.Autograph: "Believe me, yours very truly, M. G. Fawcett."Don't worry now if you do not hear from me again until I touch Yankee soil; and don't worry if the wind blows or if you learn the vessel is late or lost. If the Servia fail to land me safe and sound, don't repine or stop because I am not, but buckle on a new and stronger harness and do double work for the good cause of woman. You have the best of judgment in our work and are capable of doing much if only you had confidence in yourself, so whatever comes to me, do you be all the more for the less thatIam.

London, November 6.

My Dear Sister: ... As soon as I finish this scribble I am to have 5 o'clock tea with Frances Power Cobbe. Tomorrow I go shopping, Thursday Millicent Garrett Fawcett is to dine with us, and Mrs. Peter Taylor is to call here, and all are to take "substantial tea" with dear, noble Mrs. Lucas, and then go to hear Henry Fawcett on the political issues. Friday afternoon we receive at Miss Müller's. Saturday morning I leave for Bristol to visit Miss Mary Estlin, Mrs. Tanner and the Misses Priestman, three sisters-in-law of John Bright, who give a reception in my honor. The 12th I visit Margaret E. Parker, at Warrington, and the next afternoon Mrs. Stanton and I both go to Alderley Edge, near Manchester, to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Bright.[18]On the 14th we attend the annual meeting of the ManchesterWomen's Suffrage Association, and on the 16th go to Liverpool where a reception will be given us in the afternoon. That evening we shall spend at our hotel with the friends who go to see us off, and on the 17th we give ourselves to old ocean's care in the Cunarder Servia.

Autograph: "Believe me, yours very truly, M. G. Fawcett."

Don't worry now if you do not hear from me again until I touch Yankee soil; and don't worry if the wind blows or if you learn the vessel is late or lost. If the Servia fail to land me safe and sound, don't repine or stop because I am not, but buckle on a new and stronger harness and do double work for the good cause of woman. You have the best of judgment in our work and are capable of doing much if only you had confidence in yourself, so whatever comes to me, do you be all the more for the less thatIam.

Half of Miss Anthony's nine-months' trip abroad had been spent in Great Britain. To her all the other attractions of the old world were as nothing compared with its living, breathing humanity. On the continent she was deprived of any exchange of thought with its people because she spoke no language but her own, and this made her prefer England; but there was another and a stronger interest—the great progressive movement which was going forward in regard to woman. Here she found women of fine intellect and high social position engaged in the same work to which she had given more than thirty years of her own life; and here she met sympathy and recognition which would have been impossible in any other country in Europe. Her central thought in going to Great Britain had been to secure the co-operation of Englishwomen in holding an international suffrage convention. At first her proposition met with no response. The most radical of English women were conservative compared to those ofAmerica, but after they had become thoroughly acquainted with Mrs. Stanton and herself and prejudice had been supplanted by confidence, the idea began to be more favorably regarded. One serious difficulty in the way of the proposed convention lay in the fact that the suffrage women of England and Scotland were not themselves in thorough unison as to plans and purposes. No definite action was taken until the last afternoon of their stay, when, at the reception given in their honor by Dr. Ewing Whittle, in Liverpool, with the hearty concurrence of Mrs. McLaren, Mrs. Lucas, Mrs. Scatcherd and Mrs. Parker, who had accompanied Miss Anthony and Mrs. Stanton to see them safely on board their vessel, a strong committee was formed to promote international organization.

Margaret Bright Lucas (Signed: "Yours affectionately Margaret Bright Lucas")

They sailed from Liverpool on the Servia, November 17, 1883. Among their fellow voyagers were Mrs. Cornelia C. Hussey, of Orange, N. J., to whom the cause of woman suffrage and Miss Anthony personally are deeply indebted; and Mrs. Margaret B. Sullivan, of Chicago, the distinguished editorial writer. There was some lovely weather, which was greatly enjoyed, but heavy fogs impeded the ship and it was just ten days from the time of starting when, on November 27, they steamed into New York harbor and stepped again on the shores of loved America.

FOOTNOTES:[14]The many inquiries and directions in regard to the suffrage work, and the loving messages to friends and relatives at home, are omitted in the extracts made from Miss Anthony's letters; but they are of constant occurrence, and show that these were never absent from her thoughts.[15]While in Florence, Miss Anthony was entertained by the Countess de Resse, daughter of Elizabeth B. Phelps, of New York, and by the Princess Koltzoff-Massalsky, the distinguished author and artist, known through Europe by her pen-name of Dora d'Istria.[16]Miss Anthony occupied some rainy days, while here, in wrapping up papers and writing letters which she put in her official envelopes, bearing the revolutionary mottoes, "No just government can be formed without the consent of the governed," "Taxation without representation is tyranny." After a few days a dignified official appeared at the American legation with a large package of mail bearing the proscribed mottoes, and said, "Such sentiments can not pass through the post-office in Germany." So in modest, uncomplaining wraps the letters and papers started again for the land of the free.—E. C. S.[17]WOMEN'S SUFFRAGE.A Public Meeting will be held inST. JAMES' HALL, PICCADILLY,Thursday, July 5th, 1883,In Support of the Resolution to be moved by Mr. Mason in the House of Commons, on July 6th, for extending the Parliamentary Franchise to Women who possess the qualifications which entitle men to Vote.Doors open at 7. Organ Recital 7 to 8. The Chair will be taken at 8 o'clock byWILLIAM WOODALL, ESQ., M.P.Mrs. Fawcett.W. S. Caine, Esq., M.P.Mrs. Oliver Scatcherd.Dr. Cameron, M.P.Mrs. Fenwick Miller.R. P. Blennerhassett, Esq., M.P.Miss Tod.Arthur Arnold, Esq., M.P.Miss Eliza Sturge.J. P. Thomasson, Esq., M.P.Miss Becker.Thos. Roe, Esq., M.P.Mrs. Beddoe.A. Illingworth, Esq., M.P.J. A. Blake, Esq., M.P.Mrs. E. Cady Stanton.Miss Müller.W. Summers, Esq., M.P.Miss Susan B. Anthony.C. H. Hopwood, Esq., M.P.Thos. Burt, Esq., M.P.Mrs. Ashford, Miss Bewicke, Miss C. A. Biggs, Miss Cobden, Mrs. Cowen, Mrs. Ormiston Chant, Mrs. J. R. Ford, Mrs. Hoggan, M.D., Mrs. Lucas, Miss Frances Lord, Miss Lupton, Mrs. McLaren, Mrs. Paterson, Miss E. Smith, Miss Stacpoole, Mrs. J. P. Thomasson, Miss Laura Waittle, and other Ladies and Gentlemen are expected to be present.Numbered Sofa Stalls, 2s. 6d. Balcony and Reserved Seats, 1s. Body of the Hall and Gallery Free.[18]A pleasant letter was received afterwards from Mrs. Bright, in which she made this playful reference to Miss Anthony's always depreciating herself in favor of Mrs. Stanton:"We have thought of you often and hoped that the wind, which has been rough here, has been tempered on the Atlantic for your sakes. Apropos of the very beautiful allusion you made to Mrs. Cady Stanton's popularity and the effect produced by her personal appearance, I must tell you of a remark made by my little son John immediately after your departure. I found him sitting on the sofa in my bedroom, thinking deeply. 'Mamma,' he said, 'I wish you could get me a photograph of Miss Anthony. I think she has such a fine face. There is something about it so firm and yet so kind.' I said, 'Do you like her better than Mrs. Stanton?' 'Oh dear, yes, much better,' replied Johnnie. So you see she does not monopolize all the admiration!"

[14]The many inquiries and directions in regard to the suffrage work, and the loving messages to friends and relatives at home, are omitted in the extracts made from Miss Anthony's letters; but they are of constant occurrence, and show that these were never absent from her thoughts.

[14]The many inquiries and directions in regard to the suffrage work, and the loving messages to friends and relatives at home, are omitted in the extracts made from Miss Anthony's letters; but they are of constant occurrence, and show that these were never absent from her thoughts.

[15]While in Florence, Miss Anthony was entertained by the Countess de Resse, daughter of Elizabeth B. Phelps, of New York, and by the Princess Koltzoff-Massalsky, the distinguished author and artist, known through Europe by her pen-name of Dora d'Istria.

[15]While in Florence, Miss Anthony was entertained by the Countess de Resse, daughter of Elizabeth B. Phelps, of New York, and by the Princess Koltzoff-Massalsky, the distinguished author and artist, known through Europe by her pen-name of Dora d'Istria.

[16]Miss Anthony occupied some rainy days, while here, in wrapping up papers and writing letters which she put in her official envelopes, bearing the revolutionary mottoes, "No just government can be formed without the consent of the governed," "Taxation without representation is tyranny." After a few days a dignified official appeared at the American legation with a large package of mail bearing the proscribed mottoes, and said, "Such sentiments can not pass through the post-office in Germany." So in modest, uncomplaining wraps the letters and papers started again for the land of the free.—E. C. S.

[16]Miss Anthony occupied some rainy days, while here, in wrapping up papers and writing letters which she put in her official envelopes, bearing the revolutionary mottoes, "No just government can be formed without the consent of the governed," "Taxation without representation is tyranny." After a few days a dignified official appeared at the American legation with a large package of mail bearing the proscribed mottoes, and said, "Such sentiments can not pass through the post-office in Germany." So in modest, uncomplaining wraps the letters and papers started again for the land of the free.—E. C. S.

[17]WOMEN'S SUFFRAGE.A Public Meeting will be held inST. JAMES' HALL, PICCADILLY,Thursday, July 5th, 1883,In Support of the Resolution to be moved by Mr. Mason in the House of Commons, on July 6th, for extending the Parliamentary Franchise to Women who possess the qualifications which entitle men to Vote.Doors open at 7. Organ Recital 7 to 8. The Chair will be taken at 8 o'clock byWILLIAM WOODALL, ESQ., M.P.Mrs. Fawcett.W. S. Caine, Esq., M.P.Mrs. Oliver Scatcherd.Dr. Cameron, M.P.Mrs. Fenwick Miller.R. P. Blennerhassett, Esq., M.P.Miss Tod.Arthur Arnold, Esq., M.P.Miss Eliza Sturge.J. P. Thomasson, Esq., M.P.Miss Becker.Thos. Roe, Esq., M.P.Mrs. Beddoe.A. Illingworth, Esq., M.P.J. A. Blake, Esq., M.P.Mrs. E. Cady Stanton.Miss Müller.W. Summers, Esq., M.P.Miss Susan B. Anthony.C. H. Hopwood, Esq., M.P.Thos. Burt, Esq., M.P.Mrs. Ashford, Miss Bewicke, Miss C. A. Biggs, Miss Cobden, Mrs. Cowen, Mrs. Ormiston Chant, Mrs. J. R. Ford, Mrs. Hoggan, M.D., Mrs. Lucas, Miss Frances Lord, Miss Lupton, Mrs. McLaren, Mrs. Paterson, Miss E. Smith, Miss Stacpoole, Mrs. J. P. Thomasson, Miss Laura Waittle, and other Ladies and Gentlemen are expected to be present.Numbered Sofa Stalls, 2s. 6d. Balcony and Reserved Seats, 1s. Body of the Hall and Gallery Free.

[17]

WOMEN'S SUFFRAGE.A Public Meeting will be held inST. JAMES' HALL, PICCADILLY,Thursday, July 5th, 1883,

In Support of the Resolution to be moved by Mr. Mason in the House of Commons, on July 6th, for extending the Parliamentary Franchise to Women who possess the qualifications which entitle men to Vote.

Doors open at 7. Organ Recital 7 to 8. The Chair will be taken at 8 o'clock byWILLIAM WOODALL, ESQ., M.P.

Mrs. Fawcett.W. S. Caine, Esq., M.P.Mrs. Oliver Scatcherd.Dr. Cameron, M.P.Mrs. Fenwick Miller.R. P. Blennerhassett, Esq., M.P.Miss Tod.Arthur Arnold, Esq., M.P.Miss Eliza Sturge.J. P. Thomasson, Esq., M.P.Miss Becker.Thos. Roe, Esq., M.P.Mrs. Beddoe.A. Illingworth, Esq., M.P.J. A. Blake, Esq., M.P.Mrs. E. Cady Stanton.Miss Müller.W. Summers, Esq., M.P.Miss Susan B. Anthony.C. H. Hopwood, Esq., M.P.Thos. Burt, Esq., M.P.

Mrs. Ashford, Miss Bewicke, Miss C. A. Biggs, Miss Cobden, Mrs. Cowen, Mrs. Ormiston Chant, Mrs. J. R. Ford, Mrs. Hoggan, M.D., Mrs. Lucas, Miss Frances Lord, Miss Lupton, Mrs. McLaren, Mrs. Paterson, Miss E. Smith, Miss Stacpoole, Mrs. J. P. Thomasson, Miss Laura Waittle, and other Ladies and Gentlemen are expected to be present.

Numbered Sofa Stalls, 2s. 6d. Balcony and Reserved Seats, 1s. Body of the Hall and Gallery Free.

[18]A pleasant letter was received afterwards from Mrs. Bright, in which she made this playful reference to Miss Anthony's always depreciating herself in favor of Mrs. Stanton:"We have thought of you often and hoped that the wind, which has been rough here, has been tempered on the Atlantic for your sakes. Apropos of the very beautiful allusion you made to Mrs. Cady Stanton's popularity and the effect produced by her personal appearance, I must tell you of a remark made by my little son John immediately after your departure. I found him sitting on the sofa in my bedroom, thinking deeply. 'Mamma,' he said, 'I wish you could get me a photograph of Miss Anthony. I think she has such a fine face. There is something about it so firm and yet so kind.' I said, 'Do you like her better than Mrs. Stanton?' 'Oh dear, yes, much better,' replied Johnnie. So you see she does not monopolize all the admiration!"

[18]A pleasant letter was received afterwards from Mrs. Bright, in which she made this playful reference to Miss Anthony's always depreciating herself in favor of Mrs. Stanton:

"We have thought of you often and hoped that the wind, which has been rough here, has been tempered on the Atlantic for your sakes. Apropos of the very beautiful allusion you made to Mrs. Cady Stanton's popularity and the effect produced by her personal appearance, I must tell you of a remark made by my little son John immediately after your departure. I found him sitting on the sofa in my bedroom, thinking deeply. 'Mamma,' he said, 'I wish you could get me a photograph of Miss Anthony. I think she has such a fine face. There is something about it so firm and yet so kind.' I said, 'Do you like her better than Mrs. Stanton?' 'Oh dear, yes, much better,' replied Johnnie. So you see she does not monopolize all the admiration!"

Mostof the newspapers had a welcome for Miss Anthony. In a two-column report in the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle she is quoted as saying:

"I can scarcely tell you of the hospitality extended, the dinners, teas and receptions given in our honor. I had no idea we were so well-known in Great Britain or that there was such cordial feeling toward us. Of course, I met chiefly those known as Liberals and the sympathizers with our cause. Public sentiment there is rapidly growing in our favor. In the discussion I heard in Parliament not a Conservative uttered a word against the suffrage already possessed by women but relied upon the hackneyed argument that when married women were included there would be trouble.""You saw the Queen, I suppose?""No; I thought more of seeing the Bright family than the Queen and I never happened to be near where she was. I really had very little leisure to look around. I am ashamed to say I did not visit Westminster until the morning before I came away, but it was simply for lack of time. The social idea was of more importance to me."

"I can scarcely tell you of the hospitality extended, the dinners, teas and receptions given in our honor. I had no idea we were so well-known in Great Britain or that there was such cordial feeling toward us. Of course, I met chiefly those known as Liberals and the sympathizers with our cause. Public sentiment there is rapidly growing in our favor. In the discussion I heard in Parliament not a Conservative uttered a word against the suffrage already possessed by women but relied upon the hackneyed argument that when married women were included there would be trouble."

"You saw the Queen, I suppose?"

"No; I thought more of seeing the Bright family than the Queen and I never happened to be near where she was. I really had very little leisure to look around. I am ashamed to say I did not visit Westminster until the morning before I came away, but it was simply for lack of time. The social idea was of more importance to me."

The New York Evening Telegram said editorially: "The statement of Miss Susan B. Anthony, in another column, illustrates the superb determination of that champion of woman's political rights. In the struggle which has constituted her life-work she has the rare advantage of not being able to comprehend defeat. Battling under the inspiration of an enthusiast—of a fanatic, some may be disposed to say—she knows no such word as fail. The most disheartening reverses appear to her inspired imagination but steps in an undeviating march of progress. It was enthusiasm such as this that made the careerof Joan of Arc. Without it, not even the broad intellect and strong soul of Miss Anthony could sustain the burden of the struggle which she is called upon to lead." The Washington correspondent of the Cleveland Leader thus began a long interview:

Susan B. Anthony is back from Europe, and is here for the winter's fight in behalf of woman suffrage. She seems remarkably well, and has gained fifteen pounds since she left last spring. She is sixty-three, but looks just the same as twenty years ago. There is perhaps an extra wrinkle in her face, a little more silver in her hair, but her blue eyes are just as bright, her mouth as serious and her step as active as when she was forty. She would attract attention in any crowd. She is of medium height and medium form but her face is wonderfully intellectual, and she moves about like the woman of a purpose that she is. She says she experiences far different treatment by public men now from what she did years ago. The statesman of the past always came to her with a smirk on his face as though he considered woman's rights nonsensical and thought himself wonderfully condescending to take notice of her at all. "Now," says she, "public men look upon our mission as a matter of business, and we are considered from that standpoint."

Susan B. Anthony is back from Europe, and is here for the winter's fight in behalf of woman suffrage. She seems remarkably well, and has gained fifteen pounds since she left last spring. She is sixty-three, but looks just the same as twenty years ago. There is perhaps an extra wrinkle in her face, a little more silver in her hair, but her blue eyes are just as bright, her mouth as serious and her step as active as when she was forty. She would attract attention in any crowd. She is of medium height and medium form but her face is wonderfully intellectual, and she moves about like the woman of a purpose that she is. She says she experiences far different treatment by public men now from what she did years ago. The statesman of the past always came to her with a smirk on his face as though he considered woman's rights nonsensical and thought himself wonderfully condescending to take notice of her at all. "Now," says she, "public men look upon our mission as a matter of business, and we are considered from that standpoint."

The interview closed:

"One question more, Miss Anthony. Will you please tell me what is your highest ideal of the woman of the future?""It is hard to say," was the reply. "The woman of the future will far surpass the one of the present, even as the man of the future will surpass the one of today. The ages are progressive, and I look for a far higher manhood and womanhood than we now have. I think this will come through making the sexes co-equal. When women associate with men in serious matters, as they do now in frivolous, both will grow stronger and the world's work will be better done. I look for the day when the woman who has a political or judicial brain will have as much right to sit in the Senate or on the Supreme Bench as men have; when women will have equal property, business and political rights with men; when the only criterion of excellence or position shall be the ability and character of the individual; and this time will come. All of the Western colleges are now open to women, and send forth more than 2,000 women graduates every year. Think of the effect upon the race to come! The woman of the future will be a better wife, mother and citizen than the woman of today."

"One question more, Miss Anthony. Will you please tell me what is your highest ideal of the woman of the future?"

"It is hard to say," was the reply. "The woman of the future will far surpass the one of the present, even as the man of the future will surpass the one of today. The ages are progressive, and I look for a far higher manhood and womanhood than we now have. I think this will come through making the sexes co-equal. When women associate with men in serious matters, as they do now in frivolous, both will grow stronger and the world's work will be better done. I look for the day when the woman who has a political or judicial brain will have as much right to sit in the Senate or on the Supreme Bench as men have; when women will have equal property, business and political rights with men; when the only criterion of excellence or position shall be the ability and character of the individual; and this time will come. All of the Western colleges are now open to women, and send forth more than 2,000 women graduates every year. Think of the effect upon the race to come! The woman of the future will be a better wife, mother and citizen than the woman of today."

There were, however, some discordant notes in the symphony of pleasant things which by 1883 had become customary in the newspapers. For instance, the Cincinnati Times-Star headed its interview: "Susan Speaks—Miss Anthony Corralledby a Times-Star Correspondent—The Old Lady Wears Good Clothes and Stops at First-class Hotels—Bubbling about the Ballot." The smart reporter described the size of her foot, devoted a paragraph to the question whether her teeth were natural or artificial, and said: "There must be money in being a reformer, for Miss Anthony lives at the Riggs House in good style, and expects to be there all winter, and this, after a summer in Europe, would be a pretty severe drain on any but a long purse." When one thinks of Miss Anthony's uniform kindness and courtesy to reporters, always granting an interview no matter how tired or how busy she might be, and assisting them in every possible way with information and suggestions, it is astonishing that any one of them could indulge in petty, personal criticism and innuendoes.

Miss Anthony had now another friend at court, Col. Halbert S. Greenleaf, of Rochester, having been elected to Congress. Both he and his wife were strong and influential advocates of suffrage, and her warm personal friends. The diary shows that every day of December she was conferring with officials and their wives who were friendly to the cause, making converts wherever possible and co-operating actively with the District committee in all the drudgery of detail necessary to a successful convention. It is only by reading her diary that one can understand what a mental agony it was for Miss Anthony to press this matter upon congressmen, year after year, to be repulsed by those who were opposed and only tolerated by those in favor, who had many other matters on hand which to them seemed of much greater importance. "Oh, if men only could know how hard it is for women to be forever snubbed when they attempt to plead for their rights! It is perfectly disheartening that no member feels any especial interest or earnest determination in pushing this question of woman suffrage, to all men only a side issue," she writes in this little confidant; but not even in her letters is there ever a note of discouragement. To the world at large and to those who were associated with her, she was always brave, bright and hopeful. It causes a keen heartache to reflect upon howshe crucified herself for fifty years, unfaltering and uncomplaining, in order to make conditions better for womankind. To Hon. William D. Kelley, of Pennsylvania, who believed in woman suffrage and voted for it, but did not feel enough interest to push the matter in Congress, she wrote, January 6, 1884:

No one shrinks more from making herself obnoxious than I do, and but for the sake of all women, your darling Florence included, I should never again say a word to you on the subject of using your influence to secure the passage of a Sixteenth Amendment proposition. Last winter you put off my appeal for help with, "This is the short session and the tariff question is of momentous importance." Now, since this is the "long session," will you not take hold of this work, and with the same earnestness that you do other questions?It is cruel for you to leave your daughter, so full of hope and resolve, to suffer the humiliations of disfranchisement she already feels so keenly, and which she will find more and more galling as she grows into the stronger and grander woman she is sure to be. If it were your son who for any cause was denied his right to have his opinion counted, you would compass sea and land to lift the ban from him. And yet the crime of denial in his case would be no greater than in that of your daughter. It is only because men are so accustomed to the ignoring of woman's opinions, that they do not believe women suffer from the injustice as would men; precisely as people used to scout the idea that negroes, whose parents before them always had been enslaved, suffered from that cruel bondage as white men would.Now, will you not set about in good earnest to secure the enfranchisement of woman? Why do not the Republicans push this question? The vote on Keifer's resolution showed almost a party line. Of the 124 nays, only 4 were Republicans; while of the 85 yeas, only 13 were Democrats. Even should you fail to get another committee, the discussion and the vote would array the members and set each man and party in their true places to be seen of all men, and all women too.

No one shrinks more from making herself obnoxious than I do, and but for the sake of all women, your darling Florence included, I should never again say a word to you on the subject of using your influence to secure the passage of a Sixteenth Amendment proposition. Last winter you put off my appeal for help with, "This is the short session and the tariff question is of momentous importance." Now, since this is the "long session," will you not take hold of this work, and with the same earnestness that you do other questions?

It is cruel for you to leave your daughter, so full of hope and resolve, to suffer the humiliations of disfranchisement she already feels so keenly, and which she will find more and more galling as she grows into the stronger and grander woman she is sure to be. If it were your son who for any cause was denied his right to have his opinion counted, you would compass sea and land to lift the ban from him. And yet the crime of denial in his case would be no greater than in that of your daughter. It is only because men are so accustomed to the ignoring of woman's opinions, that they do not believe women suffer from the injustice as would men; precisely as people used to scout the idea that negroes, whose parents before them always had been enslaved, suffered from that cruel bondage as white men would.

Now, will you not set about in good earnest to secure the enfranchisement of woman? Why do not the Republicans push this question? The vote on Keifer's resolution showed almost a party line. Of the 124 nays, only 4 were Republicans; while of the 85 yeas, only 13 were Democrats. Even should you fail to get another committee, the discussion and the vote would array the members and set each man and party in their true places to be seen of all men, and all women too.

The term of the select committee on woman suffrage having expired with the close of the Forty-seventh Congress, a new one was appointed by the Senate of the Forty-eighth. The House committee on rules refused to report such a committee but placed the question in the hands of Representative Warren Keifer, of Ohio, who made a gallant fight for it on the floor, during which he said: "Is not the right of petition a constitutional right? Has not woman, in this country at least, risen above the rim and horizon of servitude, discredit and disgrace, and has she not a right, representing as she does in many instancesgreat questions of property, to present her appeals to this national council and have them wisely and judiciously considered? I think it is due to our wives, daughters, mothers and sisters to afford them an avenue through which they can legitimately and judicially reach the ear of this great nation."

He was ably assisted by Mr. Belford, of Colorado. The measure to appoint this committee was bitterly opposed by Mr. Reagan, of Texas, who said in a long speech: "When woman so far misunderstands her duty as to want to go to working on the roads and making rails and serving in the militia and going into the army, I want to protect her against it." The vote resulted—yeas, 85, nays, 124; absent or not voting, 112.

Immediately after the return of members from the holiday recess, Miss Anthony wrote to each of the 112 asking how he would vote if the question came up again. To these letters 52 replies were received, 26 from Republicans, all of whom would vote yes; 26 from Democrats, 10 of whom would vote yes, 10, no; while 6 did not know how they would vote. As these 36 affirmative votes added to the 85 yeas would so nearly have overcome the adverse majority, John D. White, of Kentucky, at the solicitation of Miss Anthony, made another earnest effort in February to secure the desired committee, but the Democrats refused to allow the question to come to a vote. She was greatly disappointed at the failure to get the select committee, but afterwards became of the opinion that it was more advantageous to return to the old plan of working through the judiciary committee.

Miss Anthony had to be continually on the alert to head off zealous but injudicious women who were determined to commit the suffrage movement to the various ologies and isms of the day, and especially to personal matters. Even a woman so intellectually great as Mrs. Stanton could not be relied upon always to make her individual opinions subserve what was demanded of her position as president of the National Association. In January Miss Anthony received a document which Mrs. Stanton had prepared as an "open letter," to be signedby both of them officially and given to the press, congratulating Frederick Douglass upon his marriage to a white woman and sympathizing with him because of the adverse criticism it had called out! She especially urged that he be given a prominent place on the program at the approaching convention. Miss Anthony replied at once:

I do hope you won't put your foot into the question of intermarriage of the races. It has no place on our platform, any more than the question of no marriage at all, or of polygamy, and, so far as I can prevent it, shall not be brought there. I beg you therefore not to congratulate him publicly. Were there a proposition to punish the woman and leave the man to go scot free, then we should have a protest to make against the invidious discrimination.The question of the amalgamation of the different races is a scientific one, affecting women and men alike. I do not propose to have it discussed on our platform. Our intention at this convention is to make every one who hears or reads believe in the grand principle of equality of rights and chances for women, and if they see on our program the name of Douglass every thought will be turned toward the subject of amalgamation and away from that of woman and her disfranchised. Neither you nor I have the right thus to complicate or compromise our question, and if we take the bits in our teeth in one direction we must expect our compeers to do the same in others. You very well know that if you plunge in, as your letter proposes, your endorsement will be charged upon me and the whole association. Do not throw around that marriage the halo of a pure and lofty duty to break down race lines. Your sympathy has run away with your judgment. Lovingly and fearfully yours.

I do hope you won't put your foot into the question of intermarriage of the races. It has no place on our platform, any more than the question of no marriage at all, or of polygamy, and, so far as I can prevent it, shall not be brought there. I beg you therefore not to congratulate him publicly. Were there a proposition to punish the woman and leave the man to go scot free, then we should have a protest to make against the invidious discrimination.

The question of the amalgamation of the different races is a scientific one, affecting women and men alike. I do not propose to have it discussed on our platform. Our intention at this convention is to make every one who hears or reads believe in the grand principle of equality of rights and chances for women, and if they see on our program the name of Douglass every thought will be turned toward the subject of amalgamation and away from that of woman and her disfranchised. Neither you nor I have the right thus to complicate or compromise our question, and if we take the bits in our teeth in one direction we must expect our compeers to do the same in others. You very well know that if you plunge in, as your letter proposes, your endorsement will be charged upon me and the whole association. Do not throw around that marriage the halo of a pure and lofty duty to break down race lines. Your sympathy has run away with your judgment. Lovingly and fearfully yours.

It is hardly necessary to say that the "open letter" was not published.

Everybody's burdens were laid upon Miss Anthony's shoulders. In looking over the mass of correspondence it seems as if each writer wanted something and looked to her to supply it. All expected her to take the lead, to do the planning, to bear the responsibility, and usually she was equal to the demand, but even her brave spirit could not resist an occasional groan on the pages of the diary. When a new accession to the ranks, from whom she expected great assistance, wrote, "I do not know how to plan but tell me what to do and I will obey," she says, "My heart sinks within me; so few seem to use their brain-power on ways and means." And again:"This drain of helpless women, able and willing to work but utterly ignorant of how to do it, wears me out body and soul." She was greatly distressed because so many of the younger women were frequently incapacitated by illness, and writes: "O, the weak-bodied girls of the present generation, they make me heart-sick!"

But never did the women themselves know of these feelings. To the younger ones she wrote: "Don't give up 'beat' at any of those places till I have dropped my plummet into them.... Your young shoulders will have to learn to bear the crotchets of all sorts of people and not bend or break under them.... Put all the blame on me; they may abuse me but not you.... It makes my heart ache every minute to see you so tired.... Vent all your ill-feelings on me but keep sweet as June roses to everybody else. It does not pay to lose your temper.... You will have to learn to let people pile injustice on you and then trust to time to right it all." If on rare occasions she spoke a word of censure, it was followed by a letter in the next mail, full of sorrow and repentance. She always signed herself, even in the darkest hours, "Yours with love and hope." Beautiful optimism, sublime courage!

Sunday, February 3, 1884, Miss Anthony read in the morning papers of the sudden death of Wendell Phillips. He had been to her always the one being without a peer, the purest, sweetest, best of men. The news overwhelmed her with grief and she wrote at once to Robert Purvis:

How cut down I am at the telegram, "Wendell Phillips is dead," and I know you are equally so. I hope you can go on to Boston to the funeral, and help tenderly to lay away that most precious human clay. Who shall say the fitting word for Wendell Phillips at this last hour as lovingly and beautifully as he has done so many, many times for the grand men and women who have gone before him? There seem none left but you and Parker Pillsbury to pour out your souls' dearest love in his memory. Would that I had the tongue of an angel and could go and bear my testimony to the grandeur of that noblest of God's works! I can think of no one who can rightly and fully estimate that glorious character. What a sad hour for his beloved wife! He said to me on my last visit: "My one wish has come to be that I may live to bury Ann." He doubtless knew of his impending disease of the heart. On whose shoulders will fall the mantle of Wendell Phillips? When will the childrenof men ever listen to such a matchless voice? How poor the world seems! In sorrow I am with you.

How cut down I am at the telegram, "Wendell Phillips is dead," and I know you are equally so. I hope you can go on to Boston to the funeral, and help tenderly to lay away that most precious human clay. Who shall say the fitting word for Wendell Phillips at this last hour as lovingly and beautifully as he has done so many, many times for the grand men and women who have gone before him? There seem none left but you and Parker Pillsbury to pour out your souls' dearest love in his memory. Would that I had the tongue of an angel and could go and bear my testimony to the grandeur of that noblest of God's works! I can think of no one who can rightly and fully estimate that glorious character. What a sad hour for his beloved wife! He said to me on my last visit: "My one wish has come to be that I may live to bury Ann." He doubtless knew of his impending disease of the heart. On whose shoulders will fall the mantle of Wendell Phillips? When will the childrenof men ever listen to such a matchless voice? How poor the world seems! In sorrow I am with you.

She could not stay away and, inclement as was the weather, went to Boston three days later to look for the last time upon the loved face.

At the request of many ladies in Washington the National Convention was held in March, instead of earlier in the winter, to avoid the social distractions which always precede the Lenten season. The ladies were pleasantly received by President Arthur.[19]This was an exceptionally brilliant convention, a noteworthy feature being the large number of letters containing the greetings of the distinguished men and women of Great Britain, whom Miss Anthony and Mrs. Stanton had met and interested during their trip abroad. The following was read from Matthew Simpson, senior bishop in the Methodist church, among his last public utterances, as he died a few months later:

For more than thirty years I have been in favor of suffrage for woman. I was led to this position, not by the consideration of the question of natural rights or of alleged injustice or of inequality before the law, but by what I believed would be her influence on the great moral questions of the day. Were the ballot in the hands of women, I am satisfied that the evils of intemperance would be greatly lessened; and I fear, without that ballot, we shall not succeed against the saloons and kindred evils in large cities. You will doubtless have many obstacles placed in your way; there will be many conflicts to sustain; but I have no doubt that the coming years will see the triumph of your cause, and that our higher civilization and morality will rejoice in the work which enlightened women will accomplish.[20]

For more than thirty years I have been in favor of suffrage for woman. I was led to this position, not by the consideration of the question of natural rights or of alleged injustice or of inequality before the law, but by what I believed would be her influence on the great moral questions of the day. Were the ballot in the hands of women, I am satisfied that the evils of intemperance would be greatly lessened; and I fear, without that ballot, we shall not succeed against the saloons and kindred evils in large cities. You will doubtless have many obstacles placed in your way; there will be many conflicts to sustain; but I have no doubt that the coming years will see the triumph of your cause, and that our higher civilization and morality will rejoice in the work which enlightened women will accomplish.[20]

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