ed in the hollow of God's hand across
the mighty waters, and planted deep beneath the snow and ice of
Plymouth Rock with prayers and thanksgivings. And what grew there? Men
and women who loved liberty better than life. Men and women who
believed that not only in person, but in speech should they be free,
and worship the God who had brought them thus far according to the
dictates of their own conscience. Men and women who, like Daniel of
old, defied the royal lion in his den. Men and women who repudiated
the creeds and codes of despots and tyrants, and declared to a waiting
world that all men are created equal. And for rights like these, the
Fathers fought for seven long years, and we have no record that the
women of that Revolution ever once cried, "hold, enough," till the
invading foe was conquered, and our independence recognized by the
nations of the earth.

And here we are, the grandest nation on the globe. By right no
privileged caste or class. Education free to all. The humblest digger
in the ditch has all the civil, social, and religious rights with the
highest in the land. The poorest woman at the wash-tub may be the
mother of a future President. Here all are heirs-apparent to the
throne. The genius of our institutions bids every man to rise, and use
all the powers that God has given him. It can not be, that for
blessings such as these, the women of the North do not stand ready for
any sacrifice.

A sister of Kossuth, with him an exile to this country, in
conversation one day, called my attention to an iron bracelet, the
only ornament she wore. "In the darkest days of Hungary," said she,
"our noble women threw their wealth and jewels into the public
treasury, and clasping iron bands around their wrists, pledged
themselves that these should be the only jewels they would wear till
Hungary was free." If darker hours than these should come to us, the
women of the North will count no sacrifice too great. What are wealth
and jewels, home and ease, sires and sons, to the birthright of
freedom, secured to us by the heroes of the Revolution? Shall a
priceless heritage like this be wrested now from us by Southern
tyrants, and Northern women look on unmoved, or basely bid our freemen
sue for peace? No! No! The vacant places at our firesides, the void in
every heart says No!! Such sacrifices must not be in vain!! The cloud
that hangs o'er all our Northern homes is gilded with the hope that
through these present suffering