eans would allow, but at length
became apprehensive that it never would reach a paying basis and, as he
was not a man of wealth, felt unable to advance more money.

From a pecuniary point of view things looked very dark for The
Revolution. Every newspaper, in its early days, swallows up money like
a bottomless well. The Revolution had started on an expensive basis;
its office rent was $1,300 per annum; it was printed on the best of
paper, which at that time was very costly; typesetting commanded the
highest prices. Partly as a matter of pride and partly for the interest
of the paper, Miss Anthony was not willing to reduce expenses. At the
end of the first year The Revolution had 2,000, and at the end of the
second year 3,000 bona fide, paying subscribers, but these could not
sustain it without plenty of advertising, and advertisers never lavish
money on a reform paper. Mr. Pillsbury's valuable services were given
at a minimum price, Mrs. Stanton received no salary and Miss Anthony
drew out only what she was compelled to use for her actual expenses.
She was exhausted in mind and body from the long and relentless
persecution of those who once had been her co-workers, but to the world
she showed still the old indomitable spirit. Her letters to friends and
relatives at this time, appealing for funds to carry on the paper, are
heart-breaking. A dearly loved Quaker cousin, Anson Lapham, of
Skaneateles, loaned her at different times $4,000. To him she wrote:

My paper must not, shall not go down. I am sure you believe in me,
in my honesty of purpose, and also in the grand work which The
Revolution seeks to do, and therefore you will not allow me to ask
you in vain to come to the rescue. Yesterday's mail brought
forty-three subscribers from Illinois and twenty from California.
We only need time to win financial success. I know you will save me
from giving the world a chance to say, "There is a woman's rights
failure; even the best of women can't manage business." If I could
only die, and thereby fail honorably, I would say "amen," but to
live and fail--it would be too terrible to bear.

To Francis G. Shaw, of Staten Island, who sent $100, she wrote: "I
wonder why it is that I must forever feel compelled to take the rough
things of the world. Why can't I excuse myself from the overpowering
and disagreeable struggles? I can not tell, but after such a day as
yesterday, my heart fails me--a