touch the
hem of a garment. Mrs. Mott was to me an entire new revelation of
womanhood. I sought every opportunity to be at her side, and
continually plied her with questions, and I shall never cease to be
grateful for the patience and seeming pleasure with which she fed my
hungering soul. Seeing the lions in London together, on one occasion
with a large party we visited the British Museum, where it is supposed
all people go to see the wonders of the world. On entering, Mrs. Mott
and myself sat down near the door to rest for a few moments, telling
the party to go on, that we would follow. They accordingly explored
all the departments of curiosities, supposing we were slowly following
at a distance; but when they returned, after an absence of three
hours, there we sat in the same spot, having seen nothing but each
other, wholly absorbed in questions of theology and social life. She
had told me of the doctrines and divisions among "Friends," of the
inward light, of Elias Hicks, of Channing, of a religion of practical
life, of Mary Wollstonecroft, her social theories, and her demands of
equality for women. I had been reading Combe's "Constitution of Man"
and "Moral Philosophy," Channing's works, and Mary Wollstonecroft,
though all tabooed by orthodox teachers, but I had never heard a woman
talk what, as a Scotch Presbyterian, I had scarcely dared to think.

On the following Sunday I went to hear Mrs. Mott preach in a Unitarian
church. Though I had never heard a woman speak, yet I had long
believed she had the right to do so, and had often expressed the idea
in private circles; but when at last I saw a woman rise up in the
pulpit and preach as earnestly and impressively as Mrs. Mott always
did, it seemed to me like the realization of an oft-repeated happy
dream. The day we visited the Zoological Gardens, as we were admiring
the gorgeous plumage of some beautiful birds, one of our gentlemen
opponents remarked, "You see, Mrs. Mott, our Heavenly Father believes
in bright colors. How much it would take from our pleasure if all the
birds were dressed in drab." "Yes," said she, "but immortal beings do
not depend on their feathers for their attractions. With the infinite
variety of the human face and form, of thought, feeling, and
affection, we do not need gorgeous apparel to distinguish us.
Moreover, if it is fitting that woman should dress in every color of
the rainbow, why not man also? Clergymen, with their black clothes and
w