Mrs. Paulina Davis read a letter from John Stuart Mill, in which he said he regretted not being able to respond to their kind invitation, but that he thought Americans abundantly able to take care of the cause. He then eulogized his wife, and said she had been the means of converting him.
Senator Pomeroy, the only man from Congress in the hall, followed with a few appropriate remarks. But considering that Mrs. Pomeroy was at home, and did not countenance the meeting with her presence, it looked something like those electioneering dodges which the best of politicians sometimes indulge in. Senator Pomeroy said he was no new convert to the “theme.” The Scotch parson advises young people never to talk about “themes,” but as Senator Pomeroy is no longer young, the advice of the parson cannot be meant for him. The Senator said he would not compel a woman to vote; he would simply remove the impediments in the way. He talked about “the mountains near where God dwells.” He said he had been waiting two months for petitions to be sent in. Mrs. Stanton interrupted him and said she had brought them. He said he was for carrying woman suffrage into the fundamental laws of the land. He would let a Chinese vote, only a Chinese could not be naturalized, and therefore could not vote. If a woman was convicted of crime, she must die. A woman had once been hung in Washington. This is the new year for the rallying question. He only hoped this convention would be a triumphant success.
Susan B. Anthony then came forward and attempted to read a letter from a Jersey “Honorable,” but the writing was so poor that she could not. Then she explained what the man meant, but by what process is known only to Susan herself.
Mrs. Cady Stanton came forward and said if the Republican party did not come forth and champion the cause, the Democrats would, and therefore infuse a new life into their decaying body. She also instanced a case where a Democrat had paid the fare of all the ladies in the omnibus that morning coming from the depot to the hotel.
The beautiful prayer delivered at the opening of the session by the Rev. Mr. May, from Syracuse, was worthy of a better cause. The few remarks which followed by the same man were more creditable to his heart than head; but he was sincere and honest, and one could not help but wish that more men like him could be found in the world.
The audience was made up mostly of women, but not the curled, dainty fashionables of the capital. Sad-faced, sorrowful women were there. A poor woman touched your correspondent on the arm, and asked if they “got places for women to work here.” Queenly Mrs. Davis was reading, regal in diamonds and point lace. The woman added, pointing to the speaker, “Do you think she can help me?”
Olivia.