was not only a powerful plea for disfranchised womanhood, but for motherhood. It was now impassioned, now playful, now witty, now pathetic. It was surpassingly eloquent, and apparently convincing, for the boldest and most radical utterances, brought from the great audience the heartiest applause. For this, I love the people. No great, brave, true thought can be uttered before an American audience without bringing a cordial and generous response. All are not ready, of course, to carry into action, into life, legislation, and law the sentiments of liberty and justice they applaud; but they feel that somewhere, in some nameless Utopia far away, such things might be lived out. Thank heaven that Utopia is possible for humanity—a real, practical condition of our mortal life—only a little way before us, perhaps.
Many good, refined people turn a cold shoulder on this cause of woman's rights because their religious sentiment, or their taste, is shocked by the character or appearance of some of its public advocates. They say: "If we were only to see at their conventions that Quaker gentlewoman, Lucretia Mott, with her serene presence; Mrs. Stanton, with her patrician air; Miss Anthony, with her sharp, intellectual fencing; Lucy Stone, with her sweet, persuasive argument and lucid logic—it were very well; but to their free platform, bores, fanatics, and fools are admitted, to elbow them and disgust us." I suppose that such annoyances, to use a mild term, necessarily belong to a free platform, and that freedom of speech is one of the most sacred rights—especially to woman. Yet I think some authority there should be to exclude or silence persons unfit to appear before an intelligent and refined audience—some power to rule out utterly, and keep out, ignorant or insane men and women who realize some of the worst things falsely charged against the leaders of this movement. But to see the three chief figures of this great movement of Woman's Rights sitting upon a stage in joint council, like the three Parcæ or Fates of a new dispensation—dignity and the ever-acceptable grace of scholarly earnestness, intelligence, and beneficence making them prominent—is assurance that the women of our country, bereft of defenders, or injured by false ones, have advocates equal to the great demands of their cause.
Grace Greenwood.
EDITORIAL CORRESPONDENCE.
Washington, Jan. 22, 1869.