the
subject nearest his heart, he nobly shared the enforced silence of the
rejected delegates. It was a great act of self-sacrifice that should
never be forgotten by women.

Thomas Clarkson was chosen president of the convention and made a few
remarks in opening, but he soon retired, as his age and many infirmities
made all public occasions too burdensome, and Joseph Sturge, a Quaker,
was made chairman. Sitting next to Mrs. Mott, I said:

"As there is a Quaker in the chair now, what could he do if the spirit
should move you to speak?"

"Ah," she replied, evidently not believing such a contingency possible,
"where the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty."

She had not much faith in the sincerity of abolitionists who, while
eloquently defending the natural rights of slaves, denied freedom of
speech to one-half the people of their own race. Such was the
consistency of an assemblage of philanthropists! They would have been
horrified at the idea of burning the flesh of the distinguished women
present with red-hot irons, but the crucifixion of their pride and
self-respect, the humiliation of the spirit, seemed to them a most
trifling matter. The action of this convention was the topic of
discussion, in public and private, for a long time, and stung many women
into new thought and action and gave rise to the movement for women's
political equality both in England and the United States.

As the convention adjourned, the remark was heard on all sides, "It is
about time some demand was made for new liberties for women." As Mrs.
Mott and I walked home, arm in arm, commenting on the incidents of the
day, we resolved to hold a convention as soon as we returned home, and
form a society to advocate the rights of women. At the lodging house on
Queen Street, where a large number of delegates had apartments, the
discussions were heated at every meal, and at times so bitter that, at
last, Mr. Birney packed his valise and sought more peaceful quarters.
Having strongly opposed the admission of women as delegates to the
convention it was rather embarrassing to meet them, during the intervals
between the various sessions, at the table and in the drawing room.

These were the first women I had ever met who believed in the equality
of the sexes and who did not believe in the popular orthodox religion.
The acquaintance of Lucretia Mott, who was a broad, liberal thinker on
politics, religion, and all questions of reform, opened to me a