Altogether the hearing was serious and impressive, and it was evident that the honorable gentlemen had already given the subject a thoughtful consideration. As each member of the Congressional Committee was presented by Senator Hamlin, the ladies had abundant opportunity for learning their individual opinions. Senator Sumner never appeared more genial, and said though he had been in Congress for twenty years, and through the exciting scenes of the Nebraska Act, Emancipation, District of Columbia Suffrage Act, and Reconstruction, he had never seen a committee in which were present so many Senators and Representatives, so many spectators, and so much interest manifested in the subject under discussion.

The following description (in the Hartford Courant) is from the pen of Mrs. Fannie Howland.

Washington, Jan. 22, 1870.

The close of the Woman's Suffrage Convention in this city was marked by an event which, no matter how slowly its logical sequence is developed, must be regarded as initiative.

A committee of ladies appointed by the convention and composed in great part of those well known as leaders in the movement, was received at the Capitol by the committee of the Senate and House (on the District of Columbia) for a formal hearing. The object of that hearing was to request the honorable gentlemen to present a bill to Congress for enfranchising the women of the District, as an experiment preparatory to ultimate acknowledgment of equal rights for all the women of the United States. The ladies were received in one of the larger committee rooms, in order to accommodate a number who wished to be present at this novel interview. After taking their seats, the Hon. Hannibal Hamlin, chairman, presented to them successively the gentlemen of the committee, who certainly greeted their fair appellants with the deferential courtesy due to fellow-sovereigns, albeit unacknowledged and disguised, for the present, under the odium of disfranchisement.

The gentlemen took their seats around a long table in the middle of the room. Mrs. Stanton stood at one end, serene and dignified. Behind her sat a large semi-circle of ladies, and close about her a group of her companions, who would have been remarkable anywhere for the intellectual refinement and elevated expression of their earnest faces. Opposite, at the other end of the table, sat Charles Sumner, looking fatigued and worn, but listening with alert attention. So these two veterans in the cause of freedom were fitly and suggestively brought face to face.

The scene was impressive. It was simple, grand, historic. Women have often appeared in history—noble, brilliant, heroic women; but woman collectively, impersonally, never until now. To-day, for the first time, she asks recognition in the commonwealth—not in virtue of hereditary noblesse—not for any excellence or achievement of individuals, but on the simple ground of her presence in the race, with the same rights, interests, responsibilities as man. There was nothing in this gathering at the Capitol to touch the imagination with illusion, no ball-room splendor of light and fragrance and jewels, none of those graceful enchantments by which women have been content to reign through brief dynasties of beauty over briefer fealties of homage. The cool light of a winter morning, the bare walls of a committee room, the plain costumes of every day use, held the mind strictly to the simple facts which gave that group of representative men and women its moral significance, its severe but picturesque unity. Some future artist, looking back for a memorable illustration of this period, will put this new "Declaration of Independence" upon canvas, and will ransack the land for portraits of those ladies who first spoke for their countrywomen at the Capitol, and of those Senators and Representatives who first gave them audience.

Mrs. Stanton's speech was brief and able, eloquent from the simplicity and earnestness of her heart, logical from the well disciplined vigor of her mind. She was followed by Miss Anthony, morally as inevitable and impersonal as a Greek chorus, but physically and intellectually individual, intense, original, full of humor and good nature—anything but the roaring lioness of newspaper reports some years ago. Mrs. Davis, of Rhode Island, spoke briefly in support of the demand for franchise. Mrs. I. B. Hooker presented the Scriptural argument for the equality of woman in all moral responsibility and duty under the divine law. She spoke very feelingly, and was heard with marked attention. A German lady from Wisconsin who, weighed in any balance, would not be found wanting, struggled to express, in broken English, the ideas for which she came forward as representing many of her countrywomen in the West. Madam Anneke fought by her husband's side in the revolution of 1848; but such an example adds no force to the argument for woman's suffrage, the plea being made, not for distinguished exceptional women, but for the average women of the community.

When the ladies had finished their remarks, the gentlemen were invited to ask any questions which were suggested by the subject discussed. Either from indifference or chivalrous sentiment, no very grave questions were proposed, nothing which required effort or argument to answer. Probably when the matter comes, as sooner or later it must come, before Congress, we shall hear some well-considered defense of the Salic law, which in this democratic republic, excludes all women from the citizen's prerogative. One of the honorable gentlemen asked how they could be certain that any number of women in the United States desired the ballot. Mrs. Stanton and Miss Anthony recounted their experience at conventions, the numerous signatures to petitions, the many demonstrations here and in England in favor of woman suffrage, but reminded the gentleman that no such separate expression is required from the unwashed, unkempt immigrants upon whom the government makes haste to confer unqualified suffrage, nor from the southern negroes, who are provided for by the XV. Amendment.

The hearing ended about noon, followed by very cordial shaking hands and pleasant chat. I do not know if the ladies were invited to "call again," but am quite sure that Miss Anthony's parting salutation was an "au revoir." There was some quiet by-play as the audience dispersed, a little interchange of knowing nods and condescending smiles, as if to say, "we can keep these absurd pretensions at bay while we live, and after us the deluge." I have no doubt that to some persons it appears an extravagant joke for women to aspire to political equality with the negro. King George thought it a very good joke when his upstart colonists steeped their tea in the salt water of Boston harbor, but the laugh was on their side in the long run. History has no precedents for the elevation of woman to a civic status, but we are making precedents every day in our conduct of popular government. In Athens—where woman was both worshiped and degraded—the protectress of the city was a feminine ideal whose glorious image crowned the Parthenon with consummate beauty. In America, where woman is beloved and respected as nowhere else in the world—if she is only true to the ideals of private and public virtue—if she seeks power only as a means for the highest good of the race, the old fable of the Pellas Athenæ may become real, and the nation acknowledge with grateful joy, that the fathers "builded better than they knew," when they placed the figure of a woman on the dome of their Capitol at Washington.

The second Washington Convention assembled at 10 o'clock, January 19th, 1870, in Lincoln Hall. Mrs. Stanton called the assemblage to order and invited the Rev. Samuel J. May to open the convention with prayer. Letters were read from John Stuart Mill, Robert Purvis, Clara Barton, and others. Miss Barton appealed to her soldier friends in behalf of woman's right of suffrage thus:

Brothers, when you were weak, and I was strong, I toiled for you. Now you are strong, and I am weak because of my work for you, I ask your aid. I ask the ballot for myself and my sex, and as I stood by you, I pray you stand by me and mine.

Mr. Purvis closed his eloquent letter with these sentiments:

Censured as I may be for apparent inconsistency, as a member and an officer of the American Anti-Slavery Society, in approving a movement whose leaders are opposed to the passage of the XV. Amendment, I must be true to my own soul, to my sense of the absolute demands of justice, and hence, I say that, much as I desire (and Heaven knows how deeply through life I have antagonized therefor) the possession of all my rights as an American citizen, were I a woman, black or white, I would resist, by every feeling of self-respect and personal dignity, any and every encroachment of power, every act of tyranny (for such they will be), based upon the impious, false, and infamous assumption of superiority of sex.

Mr. Sinclair Toucey, of New York, wrote a letter in which he said:

The argument of to-day against the legal and political equality of the sexes carries one back to the days of pro-slavery ascendency, and brings vividly to mind the old wail of the non-humanity of the negro, and his lack of capacity for civilizing improvements: and though the opponents of equal rights for both sexes do not go quite so far as to deny the humanity of women, yet one might believe they would, did not such a denial involve their own status.... In a feeble manner I fought the old pro-slavery dogma, and in a feeble manner I am trying to fight its twin—the non-equality of the sexes.... I believe in the brotherhood of man, regardless of sex, color, or birth-place, and that every member of the great family is entitled to equal rights in life's ceaseless struggles.