ars of these two
great souls who were the first to recognize the dignity of human
individuality. The domestic life of this couple who set up the
standard of absolute equality of husband and wife was an
exquisite idyl, fragrant with love and tenderness, a poem whose
rhythm was not marred, a divine melody that rose above the
discords and dissensions of domestic life upon the lowlands where
man is the ruler and woman the subject.

In the touching tribute of Miss Laura Clay (Ky.) she said: "Lucy Stone
is one of those who paid what must be paid for liberty or for any high
good of humanity. She made sacrifices and did things that none of us
to-day would be called upon to do, did them bravely, did them without
shrinking, did them almost without knowing that she was doing anything
which would call forth the blessing, the gratitude of the human race."

Mrs. Lillie Devereux Blake (N. Y.) referred more especially to the
domestic qualities, saying:

When the gift of a little child came it was more to her than all
else beside. For a while the world centered in that tiny cradle,
and the hand which rocked that cradle had rather perform this
gentle office than rule the world. It will ever be thus. With the
true woman, dearer than wealth or fame is the touch of baby
hands, sweeter than the applause of multitudes is the ripple of a
baby's laughter. As the years passed by, the mother gave more of
her life to the public, but always with the thought of the young
girl who was growing up beside her and making of her home the
dearest and most sacred spot.

This part of the memorial services appropriately closed with the
tender reminiscences of forty-five years of married life, by the
husband, Mr. Blackwell.

Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton (N. Y.) sent an eloquent tribute to the
memory of Lucy Stone, Leland Stanford, George W. Childs, Elizabeth
Oakes Smith and Elizabeth Peabody. After reciting the contributions of
each in the cause of woman, she closed with these words from The
Prince of India in reference to the last great record: "There is thy
history and mine, and all of little and great and good and bad that
shall befall us in this life. Death does not blot out the records.
Everlastingly writ, they shall be everlastingly read; for the shame of
some, for the glory of others."

Mrs. Lucretia L. Blankenburg of Philadelphia told of the loyalty to
women of