the "Burroak Banner" (which you will find
among your exchanges, as the editor publishes your prospectus for six
weeks every year, and sends no bill to you) my name will not be that of
a stranger. Let me throw aside all affectation of humility, and say that
I hope it is already and not unfavorably familiar to you. I am informed
by those who claim to know that the manuscripts of obscure writers are
passed over by you editors without examination--in short, that I must
first have a name, if I hope to make one. The fact that an article of
three hundred and seventy-five pages, which I sent, successively, to the
"North American Review," the "Catholic World," and the "Radical," was in
each case returned to me with MY knot on the tape by which it was tied,
convinces me that such is indeed the case. A few years ago I should not
have meekly submitted to treatment like this; but late experiences have
taught me the vanity of many womanly dreams.

You are acquainted with the part I took (I am SURE you must have seen
it in the "Burroak Banner" eight years ago) in creating that public
sentiment in our favor which invested us with all the civil and
political rights of men. How the editors of the "Revolution," to which
I subscribe, and the conventions in favor of the equal rights of women,
recently held in Boston and other cities, have failed to notice our
noble struggle, is a circumstance for which I will not try to account. I
will only say--and it is a hint which SOME PERSONS will understand--that
there are other forms of jealousy than those which spring from love.

It is, indeed, incredible that so little is known, outside the State of
Atlantic, of the experiment--I mean the achievement--of the last eight
years. While the war lasted, we did not complain that our work was
ignored; but now that our sisters in other States are acting as if in
complete unconsciousness of what WE have done--now that we need their
aid and they need ours (but in different ways), it is time that somebody
should speak. Were Selina Whiston living, I should leave the task to
her pen; she never recovered from the shock and mortification of her
experiences in the State Legislature, in '64--but I will not anticipate
the history. Of all the band of female iconoclasts, as the Hon. Mr.
Screed called us in jest--it was no jest afterwards, HIS image being the
first to go down--of all, I say, "some are married, and some are dead,"
and there is really no one left so famil