e of me, as I had my speech written, and I would read it
to her, which I did, and received her approval.

The time arrived for the hearing, and a magnificent audience greeted
us at the Capitol. The bill was read, I made the opening speech, Mrs.
Rose followed. We had asked for the modification of certain statutes
and the passage of others making the laws more equal for man and
woman. Mrs. Mott having listened attentively to all that was said, and
coming to the conclusion that with eighteen different causes for
divorce in the different States, there might as well be no laws at all
on the question, she arose and said, that "she had not thought
profoundly on this subject, but it seemed to her that no laws whatever
on this relation would be better than such as bound pure, innocent
women in bondage to dissipated, unprincipled men. With such various
laws in the different States, and fugitives from the marriage bond
fleeing from one to another, would it not be better to place all the
States on the same basis, and thus make our national laws
homogeneous?" She was surprised on returning to the residence of Lydia
Mott, to hear that her speech was altogether the most radical of the
three. The bold statement of "no laws," however, was so sugar-coated
with eulogies on good men and the sacredness of the marriage relation,
that the press complimented the moderation of Mrs. Mott at our
expense. We have had many a laugh over that occasion.

An amusing incident occurred the first year, 1869, we held a
Convention in Washington. Chaplain Gray, of the Senate, was invited to
open the Convention with prayer. Mrs. Mott and I were sitting close
together, with our heads bowed and eyes closed, listening to the
invocation. As the chaplain proceeded, he touched the garden scene in
Paradise, and spoke of woman as a secondary creation, called into
being for the especial benefit of man, an afterthought with the
Creator. Straightening up, Mrs. Mott whispered to me, "I can not bow
my head to such absurdities." Edward M. Davis, in the audience,
noticed his mother's movements, and knowing that what had struck his
mind had no doubt disturbed hers also, he immediately left the hall,
returning shortly after Bible in hand, that he might confound the
chaplain with the very book he had quoted. He ascended the platform
just as Mr. Gray said "amen," and read from the opening chapter of
Genesis, the account of the simultaneous creation of man and woman, in
which