ise in their own ranks, and that never more would
they come together in the old, fraternal spirit that had bound them so
closely and given them strength to bear the innumerable hardships which
so largely had been their portion.

After the Albany meeting, Miss Anthony at once began preparations for
the National Woman's Rights Convention in New York in May. The date was
set, the Tabernacle secured and many of the speakers engaged, but in
the meantime the affairs of the nation had become more and more
complicated; the threatened secession of the Southern States had been
accomplished; the long-expected, long-dreaded crisis seemed close at
hand; the people were uncertain and bewildered in the presence of the
dreadful catastrophe. All thought, all interest, all action were
centered in the new President. The whole nation was breathlessly
awaiting the declaration of Lincoln's policy. To call any kind of
meeting which had an object other than that relating to the
preservation of the Union seemed almost a sacrilege. Letters poured in
upon Miss Anthony urging her to relinquish all idea of a convention,
but she never had learned to give up. Even after the fall of Sumter and
the President's call for troops, the letters were still insisting that
she declare the meeting postponed; but it was not until the abandonment
of the Anti-Slavery Anniversary, which always took place the same week,
and until she found there were absolutely no speakers to be had, that
she finally yielded.

About this time she takes care of a sister with a baby, and writes Mrs.
Stanton: "O this babydom, what a constant, never-ending, all-consuming
strain! We should never ask anything else of the woman who has to
endure it. I realize more and more that rearing children should be
looked upon as a profession which, like any other, must be made the
primary work of those engaged in it. It can not be properly done if
other aims and duties are pressing upon the mother." And yet so great
was her spirit of self-sacrifice that in this same letter she offers to
take entire charge of Mrs. Stanton's seven children while she makes a
three months' trip abroad. At a later date, when caring for a young
niece, she says: "The dear little Lucy engrosses most of my time and
thoughts. A child one loves is a constant benediction to the soul,
whether or not it helps to the accomplishment of great intellectual
feats."

The watchword of the Abolitionists ever had been "Peace." Under the