She is quoted as saying that if she "had pinched herself right hard she would not have fainted." One of the papers remarked that "then she never would have known how much the American people thought of her." Every newspaper had something pleasant to say,[114] many friends wrote letters of sympathy, and scores whom she had not known personally sent their words of admiration. Only her body was weak, her mind was abnormally alert; she appreciated all that was said and done for her, and remarked often that this was the only real rest of her lifetime. A number of relatives came to visit her, and a little later Mrs. Coonley and Mrs. Sewall. Mr. and Mrs. Gross also stopped on their way home, the latter leaving $50 for "the very prettiest wrapper that could be had." From her old anti-slavery co-worker, Samuel May, now eighty-five, came the words:

I suppose there is hardly another person in the United States, man or woman, who has been engaged in actual hard public labor so long as yourself; and is it not a part of your business and a part of your duty—in view of the unattained results—to allow yourself larger spaces of rest and to put upon yourself more moderate and less exhausting tasks? We would not willingly see you retire from the field altogether; therefore we want you to do less of the common soldier's work and take charge of the reserves, keeping watch from your tower of experience, and personally appearing only when and where the enemy rallies in unusual numbers or with unusual craftiness. This does not imply a lessening of your usefulness but an increase, being a wiser application of your strength and resources.

From Parker Pillsbury, the old comrade, aged eighty-six: "We have heard of your late illness, a warning to constant prudence and care for your health as you come down to 'life's latest stage.' Hold on, my dear—our dear—Susan, hold on to the last hour possible. You have seen great and glorious changes, almost revolutions, but yet how much remains to be encountered and accomplished.... We shall hope you may live to see the one grand achievement—the equal civil and political rights of all women before the law. Then you may well say: 'Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace; for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation.'"

Mrs. Stanton wrote: "I never realized how desolate the world would be to me without you until I heard of your sudden illness. Let me urge you with all the strength I have, and all the love I bear you, to stay at home and rest and save your precious self." From Mrs. Cooper this urgent message: "You are too far along in years to work as hard as you do. Take it easy, my beloved friend, and let your young lieutenants bear the heat and burden of the day, while you give directions from the hill-top of survey. Age has the right to be peaceful, as childhood has the right to be playful. You are the youngest of us all, nevertheless nature cries a halt and you must obey her call in order to be with us as our leader for a score of years to come."

There is a long hiatus in the diary, and then for many days the brief entry, "On the mend." In September she began to walk out a little and then to call on the nearest friends, and by the last of the month she attended a few committee meetings. The rumor had been persistently circulated that she was to resign the presidency of the National-American Association and retire to private life. In fact, she never had the slightest intention of giving up active work. She realized that inactivity meant stagnation and hastened both physical and mental decay, and she was determined to keep on and "drop in the harness" when the time came to stop.[115] It was evident, however, that she must have relief in her immense correspondence. This she recognized, and so secured an efficient stenographer and typewriter in Mrs. Emma B. Sweet, who assumed her duties October 1, 1895. The five large files packed with copies of letters sent out during the remaining months of the year show how pressing was the need of her services. Miss Anthony relates in her diary with much satisfaction, that she "managed to have a letter at every State suffrage convention held that fall."

She thought possibly she might have to work a little more moderately for a while, and one of her first letters was written to the head of the Slayton Lecture Bureau: "I should love dearly to say 'yes' to your proposition for a series of lectures at $100 a night. Nothing short of that would tempt me to go on the lyceum platform again, and even to that, for the present, I must say 'nay.' I am resolved to be a home-body the coming year, with the exception of attending the celebration of Mrs. Stanton's eightieth birthday and our regular Washington convention." Among the characteristic short letters is this to Dr. Sarah Hackett Stevenson, of Chicago, who had asked for a word of encouragement in regard to a hospital she was founding for mothers whose children were born out of wedlock:

I hope your beneficent enterprise may succeed. I trust the day will come when there will be no such unfortunate mothers, but until then, it certainly is the duty of society to provide for them. The first step towards bringing that day is to make women not only self-supporting but able to win positions of honor and emolument. Since no disfranchised class of men ever had equal chances in the world, it is fair to conclude that the first requisite to bring them to women is enfranchisement. It is not that all when enfranchised will be capable, honest and chaste, but it is that they will possess the power to control their own conditions and those of society equally with men. Therefore my panacea for the ills which your hospital would fain mitigate is the ballot in the hands of women.

The editor of the Voice wrote for her opinion as to the cause of the prevailing "hard times," and she answered:

The work of my life has been less to find out the causes of men's failure to successfully manage affairs, than to try to show them their one great failure in attempting to make a successful government without the help of women. It used to be said in anti-slavery days that a people who would tacitly consent to the enslavement of 4,000,000 human beings, were incapable of being just to each other, and I believe the same rule holds with regard to the injustice practiced by men towards women. So long as all men conspire to rob women of their citizen's right to perfect equality in all the privileges and immunities of our so-called "free" government, we can not expect these same men to be capable of perfect justice to each other. On the contrary, the inevitable result must be trusts, monopolies and all sorts of schemes to get an undue share of the proceeds of labor. There is money enough in this country today in the hands of the few, if justly distributed, to make "good times" for all.

Reporters were constantly besieging her for her views on "bloomers," which had been re-introduced by the bicycle, and she usually replied in effect: