fter that I do not know, as he never said anything in
favor of or against it. He gladly gave me any help I needed, from time
to time, in looking up the laws, and was very desirous that whatever I
gave to the public should be carefully prepared.

Miss Anthony printed twenty thousand copies of this address, laid it on
the desk of every member of the legislature, both in the Assembly and
Senate, and, in her travels that winter, she circulated it throughout
the State. I am happy to say I never felt so anxious about the fate of a
speech since.

The first woman's convention in Albany was held at this time, and we had
a kind of protracted meeting for two weeks after. There were several
hearings before both branches of the legislature, and a succession of
meetings in Association Hall, in which Phillips, Channing, Ernestine L.
Rose, Antoinette L. Brown, and Susan B. Anthony took part. Being at the
capital of the State, discussion was aroused at every fireside, while
the comments of the press were numerous and varied. Every little country
paper had something witty or silly to say about the uprising of the
"strong-minded." Those editors whose heads were about the size of an
apple were the most opposed to the uprising of women, illustrating what
Sidney Smith said long ago: "There always was, and there always will be
a class of men so small that, if women were educated, there would be
nobody left below them." Poor human nature loves to have something to
look down upon!

Here is a specimen of the way such editors talked at that time. The
_Albany Register_, in an article on "Woman's Rights in the Legislature,"
dated March 7, 1854, says:

"While the feminine propagandists of women's rights confined
themselves to the exhibition of short petticoats and long-legged
boots, and to the holding of conventions and speech-making in
concert rooms, the people were disposed to be amused by them, as
they are by the wit of the clown in the circus, or the performances
of Punch and Judy on fair days, or the minstrelsy of gentlemen with
blackened faces, on banjos, the tambourine, and bones. But the joke
is becoming stale. People are getting cloyed with these
performances, and are looking for some healthier and more
intellectual amusement. The ludicrous is wearing away, and disgust
is taking the place of pleasurable sensations, arising from the
novelty of this new phase of hypocrisy and inf