mense hall was
packed with women; a few men were admitted to the gallery at half a
crown apiece. Over five thousand people were present. When a Scotch
audience is thoroughly roused, nothing can equal the enthusiasm. The
arrival of the speakers on the platform was announced with the wildest
applause; the entire audience rising, waving their handkerchiefs, and
clapping their hands, and every compliment paid the people of Scotland
was received with similar outbursts. Mrs. McLaren, a sister of John
Bright, presided, and made the opening speech. I had the honor, on this
occasion, of addressing an audience for the first time in the Old World.
Many others spoke briefly. There were too many speakers; no one had time
to warm up to the point of eloquence.

Our system of conventions, of two or three days' duration, with long
speeches discussing pointed and radical resolutions, is quite unknown in
England. Their meetings consist of one session of a few hours, into
which they crowd all the speakers they can summon. They have a few tame,
printed resolutions, on which there can be no possible difference of
opinion, with the names of those who are to speak appended. Each of
these is read and a few short speeches are made, that may or may not
have the slightest reference to the resolutions, which are then passed.
The last is usually one of thanks to some lord or member of the House of
Commons, who may have condescended to preside at the meeting or do
something for the measure in Parliament. The Queen is referred to
tenderly in most of the speeches, although she has never done anything
to merit the approbation of the advocates of suffrage for women.

From Glasgow quite a large party of the Brights and McLarens went to
Edinburgh, where the Hon. Duncan McLaren gave us a warm welcome to
Newington House, under the very shadow of the Salisbury crags. These and
the Pentland Hills are remarkable features in the landscape as you
approach this beautiful city with its mountains and castles. We passed a
few charming days driving about, visiting old friends, and discussing
the status of woman on both sides of the Atlantic. Here we met Elizabeth
Pease Nichol and Jane and Eliza Wigham, whom I had not seen since we sat
together in the World's Anti-slavery Convention, in London, in 1840. Yet
I knew Mrs. Nichol at once; her strongly marked face was not readily
forgotten.

I went with the family on Sunday to the Friends' meeting, where a most
unusual m