ut hesitation, and, if I might
judge by the applause which followed, with some acceptance. Sir John
Bowring now made my acquaintance, and complimented me upon my speech.
The eloquent French preacher, Athanase Coquerel, also spoke with me. The
occasion was to me a memorable one.

I had already attended the anniversary meeting of the English Peace
Society, and had asked permission to speak, which had been denied me on
the ground that women never had spoken at these meetings. Finding but
little encouragement for my efforts from existing societies in London, I
decided to hire a hall of moderate size, where I myself might speak on
Sunday afternoons. The Freemasons' Tavern presented one just suited to
my undertaking. With the help of a friend, the meeting was properly
advertised, and I betook myself thither on the first Sunday afternoon,
strong in the belief that my effort was of the right sort, but very
uncertain as to its result. Arriving at Freemasons' Tavern, I asked the
doorkeeper whether there was any one in the hall. "Oh, yes! a good
many," he said. I entered and found quite a numerous company. My
procedure was very simple,--a prayer, the reading of a hymn, and a
discourse from a Scripture text. I had prepared this last with
considerable care, and kept the manuscript of it beside me, but my
memory enabled me to give the substance of what I had written without
referring to the paper.

My impression is that I spoke in this way on some five or six Sundays.
Of all these discourses, I remember only the last one, of which the text
was, "I am persuaded that neither height nor depth, nor any other
creature," etc. The attendance was very good throughout, and I cherished
the hope that I had sown some seed which would bear fruit thereafter. I
remember that our own poet, Thomas William Parsons, happening to be in
London at this time, suggested to me a poem of Mrs. Stowe's as very
suitable to be read at one of my Sunday services. It was the one
beginning:--

"When winds are raging o'er the upper ocean,"

and I am glad to remember that I did read it as advised.

My work in London brought me in contact with a number of prominent
workers in various departments of public service. My acquaintance with
Miss Frances Power Cobbe was pleasantly renewed, and I remember
attending an afternoon reception at her house, at which a number of
literary notabilities were present, among them the brilliant historian,
Mr. Froude. I had the pleas