res: we had a scene, and she called
in Cousin Jane to reason with me. How I detest Cousin Jane! She is
nothing but a mass of orthodox dogmatism. Of course we quarreled over
it, and she ended by telling me I was disgracing the family, and
was no true woman. Well, we shall see which of us has the truer
comprehension of a woman's sphere."

It is three years since I wrote that. Those lectures were my first
step, and, like all first steps, cost me more of a struggle than
anything I have done since. As I look back over these three years, I
see that every hope and aspiration I then cherished has been more than
realized. I can trace the steady progress of my intellect. I can go
back to the days when I started to earn my own living--when I thought
it a great thing to have gained a few dollars by my own labor. Yes, I
am very glad to have this record of the past: it makes me strong and
hopeful of the future. I have never regretted my decision to make an
independent life for myself. I have sought only to do that for which
Nature had gifted me, and from which nothing but custom and prejudice
debarred me; and in claiming my own position I am conscious of having
helped other women, and of having led the way for those who may be
less courageous than I am.

All this might sound very conceited and self-confident to any one who
should read it, but I do not write to be read by other eyes than my
own: my journal is the reflex of my thoughts and feelings; so I may be
frank with myself. And why should I _not_ be proud of my independence,
as well as any other human creature?

But I must prepare my speech for to-morrow. They say they can't do
without me, and I really believe they mean it; for though some women
besides myself have opinions, and can put them into words, they mostly
lack the courage that I certainly possess. What a delicious sense of
freedom and unfettered action I have in my life! I don't think I have
laid down the special powers of my sex in asserting my freedom; but
you must wait, little book, for the confession that is on the tip of
my pen. Work first: that is my motto.

_Nov_. 10. Ten days since I opened my journal, and such busy days as
they have been! Three speeches, and half a pamphlet written! I have
done what people commonly term "a man's work" this week. How I despise
all these time-honored phrases, which, dead letters as they are,
act as links to strengthen the chain that binds women in a state of
inferiority. Why