gratified with a sense
of their power. These men would probably all have said "home is woman's
sphere," though they took the liberty of regulating everything in her
sphere.

[Illustration: MRS. STANTON AND SON, 1854.]

[Illustration: Susan B. Anthony 1820-Feb. 15, 1858--]

CHAPTER X.

SUSAN B. ANTHONY.

The reports of the conventions held in Seneca Falls and Rochester, N.Y.,
in 1848, attracted the attention of one destined to take a most
important part in the new movement--Susan B. Anthony, who, for her
courage and executive ability, was facetiously called by William Henry
Channing, the Napoleon of our struggle. At this time she was teaching in
the academy at Canajoharie, a little village in the beautiful valley of
the Mohawk.

"The Woman's Declaration of Independence" issued from those conventions
startled and amused her, and she laughed heartily at the novelty and
presumption of the demand. But, on returning home to spend her vacation,
she was surprised to find that her sober Quaker parents and sister,
having attended the Rochester meetings, regarded them as very profitable
and interesting, and the demands made as proper and reasonable. She was
already interested in the anti-slavery and temperance reforms, was an
active member of an organization called "The Daughters of Temperance,"
and had spoken a few times in their public meetings. But the new gospel
of "Woman's Rights," found a ready response in her mind, and, from that
time, her best efforts have been given to the enfranchisement of women.

As, from this time, my friend is closely connected with my narrative
and will frequently appear therein, a sketch of her seems appropriate.

Lord Bacon has well said: "He that hath wife and children hath given
hostages to fortune; for they are impediments to great enterprises
either of virtue or mischief. Certainly the best works, and of greatest
merit for the public, have proceeded from the unmarried or childless
men; which, both in affection and means, have married and endowed the
public."

This bit of Baconian philosophy, as alike applicable to women, was the
subject, not long since, of a conversation with a remarkably gifted
Englishwoman. She was absorbed in many public interests and had
conscientiously resolved never to marry, lest the cares necessarily
involved in matrimony should make inroads upon her time and thought, to
the detriment of the public good. "Unless," said she, "some women
dedicate the