cratic homes. She was entirely untaught in the
schools, but was witty, original, and always suggestive. By her tact and
her gift of song she kept down ridicule, and by her fervor and faith she
won many friends for the anti-slavery cause. As to her name she said:
"And the Lord gave me _Sojourner_ because I was to travel up an' down
the land showin' the people their sins an' bein' a sign unto them.
Afterwards I told the Lord I wanted another name, 'cause everybody else
had two names, an' the Lord gave me _Truth_, because I was to declare
the truth to the people."

On the second day of the convention in Akron, in a corner, crouched
against the wall, sat this woman of care, her elbows resting on her
knees, and her chin resting upon her broad, hard palms.[1] In the
intermission she was employed in selling "The Life of Sojourner Truth."
From time to time came to the presiding officer the request, "Don't let
her speak; it will ruin us. Every newspaper in the land will have
our cause mixed with abolition and niggers, and we shall be utterly
denounced." Gradually, however, the meeting waxed warm. Baptist,
Methodist, Episcopalian, Presbyterian, and Universalist preachers had
come to hear and discuss the resolutions presented. One argued the
superiority of the male intellect, another the sin of Eve, and the
women, most of whom did not "speak in meeting," were becoming filled
with dismay. Then slowly from her seat in the corner rose Sojourner
Truth, who till now had scarcely lifted her head. Slowly and solemnly
to the front she moved, laid her old bonnet at her feet, and turned
her great, speaking eyes upon the chair. Mrs. Gage, quite equal to the
occasion, stepped forward and announced "Sojourner Truth," and begged
the audience to be silent a few minutes. "The tumult subsided at once,
and every eye was fixed on this almost Amazon form, which stood nearly
six feet high, head erect, and eye piercing the upper air, like one in a
dream." At her first word there was a profound hush. She spoke in deep
tones, which, though not loud, reached every ear in the house, and even
the throng at the doors and windows. To one man who had ridiculed the
general helplessness of woman, her needing to be assisted into carriages
and to be given the best place everywhere, she said, "Nobody eber helped
me into carriages, or ober mud puddles, or gibs me any best place"; and
raising herself to her full height, with a voice pitched like rolling
thunder, she