ould
bring myself to put anything about them on paper." There are many
references to their calling, escorting her to parties, etc., but
scarcely any expression of her sentiments toward them. One, of whom she
says: "He is a most noble-hearted fellow; I have respected him highly
since our first acquaintance," goes to see a rival, and she writes: "He
is at ----'s this evening. O, may he know that in me he has found a
spirit congenial with his own, and not suffer the glare of beauty to
attract both eye and heart."

Again she says: "Last night I dreamed of being married, queerly enough,
too, for it seemed as if I had married a Presbyterian priest, whom I
never before had seen. I thought I repented thoroughly before the day
had passed and my mind was much troubled." This modest Quaker maiden
writes of receiving a newspaper from a young man: "Its contents were
none of the most polite; a piece of poetry on Love and one called
'Ridin' on a Rail,' and numerous little stories and things equally as
bad. What he means I can not tell, but silence will be the best
rebuke." Another who comes a-wooing she describes as "a real
soft-headed old bachelor," and remarks: "These old bachelors are
perfect nuisances to society." A friend marries a man of rather feeble
intellect, and she comments: "Tis strange, 'tis passing strange, that a
girl possessed of common sense should be willing to marry a
lunatic--but so it is."

Miss Anthony went to New Rochelle as assistant in Eunice Kenyon's
boarding-school, but the principal being ill most of the time, she has
to take entire charge, and the responsibility seems to weigh heavily on
the nineteen-year-old girl. She speaks also of watching night after
night, with only such rest as she gets lying on the floor. She gives
some idea of the medical treatment of those days: "The Doctor came and
gave her a dose of calomel and bled her freely, telling me not to faint
as I held the bowl. Her arm commenced bleeding in the night and she
lost so much blood she fainted. Next day the Doctor came, applied a
blister and gave her another dose of calomel."

She meets some colored girls from the school at Oneida and writes home:
"A strict Presbyterian school it is, but they eat, walk and associate
with the white people. O, what a happy state of things is this, to see
these poor, degraded sons of Afric privileged to walk by our side." On
Sunday she hears Stephen Archer, the great Quaker preacher, who was at
the head of