reat demonstration the mere mention of her name had caused, her
lips quivered and her brave old eyes filled with tears. As we looked at
her I think we all realized anew that what the world called stoicism
in Susan B. Anthony throughout the years of her long struggle had been,
instead, the splendid courage of an indomitable soul--while all the time
the woman's heart had longed for affection and recognition. The next
morning the leading Berlin newspaper, in reporting the debate and
describing the spontaneous tribute to Miss Anthony, closed with these
sentences: "The Americans call her 'Aunt Susan.' She is our 'Aunt
Susan,' too!"

Throughout the remainder of Miss Anthony's visit she was the most
honored figure at the International Council. Every time she entered the
great convention-hall the entire audience rose and remained standing
until she was seated; each mention of her name was punctuated by cheers;
and the enthusiasm when she appeared on the platform to say a few words
was beyond bounds. When the Empress of Germany gave her reception to the
officers of the Council, she crowned the hospitality of her people in a
characteristically gracious way. As soon as Miss Anthony was presented
to her the Empress invited her to be seated, and to remain seated,
although every one else, including the august lady herself, was
standing. A little later, seeing the intrepid warrior of eighty-four
on her feet with the other delegates, the Empress sent one of her aides
across the room with this message: "Please tell my friend Miss Anthony
that I especially wish her to be seated. We must not let her grow
weary."

In her turn, Miss Anthony was fascinated by the Empress. She could not
keep her eyes off that charming royal lady. Probably the thing that most
impressed her was the ability of her Majesty as a linguist. Receiving
women from every civilized country on the globe, the Empress seemed to
address each in her own tongue-slipping from one language into the next
as easily as from one topic to another.

"And here I am," mourned "Aunt Susan," "speaking only one language, and
that not very well."

At this Berlin quinquennial, by the way, I preached the Council sermon,
and the occasion gained a certain interest from the fact that I was the
first ordained woman to preach in a church in Germany. It then took on
a tinge of humor from the additional fact that, according to the
German law, as suddenly revealed to us by the police, no clergyma