tle more to her
domestic duties and a little less to those of the great public,
perhaps she would exalt her sex quite as much as she does by
Quixotically fighting windmills in their gratuitous behalf, and she
might possibly set a notable example of domestic felicity. No
married woman can convert herself into a feminine Knight of the
Rueful Visage and ride about the country attempting to redress
imaginary wrongs without leaving her own household in a neglected
condition that must be an eloquent witness against her. As for the
spinsters, we have always said that every woman has a natural and
inalienable right to a good husband and a pretty baby. When, by
proper "agitation," she has secured this right, she best honors
herself and her sex by leaving public affairs behind her, and
endeavoring to show how happy she can make the little world of
which she has just become the brilliant center.

The New York Independent, the great organ of the Congregationalists,
had this breezy editorial:

The Revolution is the martial name of a bristling and defiant new
weekly journal, the first number of which has just been laid on our
table. When we mention that it is edited by Mr. Parker Pillsbury
and Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, all the world will immediately
know what to expect from it. Those two writers can never be accused
of having nothing to say, or of backwardness in saying it. Each has
separately long maintained a striking individuality of tongue and
pen. Working together, they will produce a canvas of the Rembrandt
school--Mrs. Stanton painting the high lights and Mr. Pillsbury the
deep darks. In fact, the new journal's real editors are Hope and
Despair. Beaumont and Fletcher were intellectually something alike;
but Mrs. Stanton and Mr. Pillsbury are totally different. The lady
is a gay Greek, come forth from Athens; the gentleman is a sombre
Hebrew, bound back to Jerusalem. We know of no two more striking,
original, and piquant writers. What keen criticisms, what
knife-blade repartees, what lacerating sarcasms we shall expect
from the one! What solemn, reverberating, sanguinary damnations we
shall hear from the other!

Conspicuous among the new journal's contributors is that great
traveller, hotel-builder, epigrammatist and kite-flyer, Mr. George
Francis Train. So The Revolution, from the st