Fitting Representative of a Distinguished Family.

Washington, January 20, 1870.

Wednesday’s evening session opened with the usual brilliant array of distinguished women on the stage. Among the number might have been seen Mrs. Isabella Beecher Hooker, of Connecticut, another candidate for immortality in this family so widely known to fame. Mrs. Hooker is the beauty of the Beecher constellation. She has a dreamy, poetic face, like the picture of Mrs. Browning, and the early snow has been sprinkled among her curls. Mrs. Hooker is orthodox, and draws inspiration from the old Calvinistic doctrines undefiled. She appears timid almost to awkwardness. She says she intends to be a “speaker,” and an assertion from a member of this family, like some kinds of paper, is worth more than its face.

In the obscurest place on the platform sits the genius of the convention, Jennie Collins, the factory girl of New England, with her sad, hungry face. You can only remember the eyes, which look as if there was something fierce and awful behind them ready to spring out and bite.

The meeting is called to order by Mrs. Stanton, and is followed by a few of her well-chosen words. She had hoped to have a company of distinguished Senators and members, but unfortunately the Congressmen were all hoarse. Two Senators had sent their regrets. Senator Ross pleaded prior engagements, but sent his sympathy. Senator Carpenter regretted that official duties prevented his coming, accompanied with the usual condolence.

Mrs. Stanton proceeded to enlighten the audience on the sixteenth amendment, which is simply striking the obnoxious word “male” out of every statute of the land. She said the future great memorable day would occur in March, because it was in this month that Mr. Julian had offered this amendment to the Constitution. In changing the fifteenth amendment the voice of every person should be heard in the land. If women are not people, what are they? We are building a model Republic and it needs a crowning glory. That glory is a perfected womanhood.

Miss Anthony arose and proposed a vote. Those who demand that Congress shall adopt the sixteenth amendment say “aye.” The ayes had it. Miss Susan said she had been interviewing members, but did not stop to tell the result. She said there was a factory girl on the platform, Miss Jennie Collins, of Boston. The movement was not to benefit those who had fathers and husbands, but those who had to earn their own living.

Miss Collins was then introduced. She said she had not come to make a speech, but to lay her offering at the feet of the imperial Susan. We have a class of women who have not brains enough to comprehend a comic almanac; but if you would have an opinion, go to the working woman. She who has toiled knows her opinion. Why do girls not go into the kitchen? Because no man will marry a woman from the kitchen; but if she goes behind the counter a man will give her his arm. She said the Republican party had accomplished its mission, and was now dead. A new party was coming up from the people. The trades unions will be heard from. These unions were formed around camp-fires to protect each other, and they now girdle the land. She did not look to the politicians for aid; it must come from the working people. What helped the workingman? It was the ballot. Then why would it not help the working women as well? If the Southerner had whipped the slave woman, the New England stockholder would not stop the loom long enough to do the whipping. She painted the hideous lives of the 48,000 factory girls of Massachusetts. Her presence breathed the print of the nails. She made you hear the whir of the machinery, and you could feel the flakes of cotton falling like snow. Miss Collins abused General Grant, abused the Republican party, but the audience was under her spell and did not raise a dissenting voice. A young girl in the audience spoke loud enough to be heard by those around her, “Isn’t she a frightful woman?” It was the savage looking out of the New England factory prison, and the picture is the strongest that has been presented in the convention.

Miss Anthony then announced that the Senate District Committee had agreed to meet the leading women of the movement on Saturday at 10 o’clock a. m.

The meeting now adjourned, and the distinguished women proceeded to the Arlington Hotel, where they had previously announced their intention of holding a reception between the hours of 10 and 12 p. m. This midnight reception was held to accommodate members and Senators who were supposed to be disengaged during these hours. But, alas! Senators one appeared, Pomeroy, of Kansas, whilst the gallant General Logan was the sole representative of the House.

Mrs. Stanton was queenly, as usual, in black velvet; Mrs. Hooker in gray moire antique; whilst Mrs. Wilbour eclipsed all the lesser lights in black silk, embroidered with golden grain. Diamonds glittered, wit and satire flashed, illuminating all the beholders; but the grand dames, the philosophers, the politicians of the capital were not there. If the strong-minded can talk better than the fashionables, they must yet learn to “receive.” Mrs. Hooker held up her moire train as if she were keeping it from the mire. But this must have been owing to the neat training in the “land of steady habits.” Mrs. Stanton “is at home” in the masculine way of doing business. To be sure she had talked sense, but she made one long for a little nonsense; for something upon which the mind could rest after the severe tension of the day.

General Logan was dressed in black pants, not very much the worse for wear, while a claret overcoat, bound in black silk braid, was thrown open before. What his boots lacked in polish was made up by a mental lustre which such insignificant things as bootblacks can neither add to nor take away. He moved about hither and thither with as much apparent ease as he intends to move the capital. Senator Pomeroy wore his ordinary apparel with the exception of his hair. Nellie Hutchinson of the Tribune said the reception was a failure, and the readers of The Press can take her word for it.

Meeting called to order with very few on the stage. The usual prayer was omitted. Mrs. Stanton opened the battle. Daughters should be prepared for every emergency. Cultivate will power, and everything else yields. She said she had visited fashionable women in their luxurious homes and when she talked to them of these great questions, they said they had been so happy they had never thought of these things. She would say to these women, Do you live in Chinese walls? Have you never read Victor Hugo’s “Les Miserables”? What sort of a soul must people have if they can only feel what sacrifices their own flesh? She then told the drunkard’s story, but she always finishes a convention with the same tale. When Mrs. Stanton tells this personal experience she rises to the dignity of a great actress. The pauses, the gestures, one learns by heart. Do the great and good men of the world repeat themselves in the same way?

Miss Anthony having somewhat recovered, read a letter from Hon. Jacob H. Ela, of New Hampshire, and he assured the convention that he was with it hand and glove. During the evening a few members and Senator Sherman were espied in the audience. Miss Anthony was interrupted in her speaking, and Senator Sherman was called on by name to come forward and answer how he stood on the sixteenth amendment. As he did not seem inclined to give an opinion, Miss Anthony bade him, unless he was for it, to say nothing at all.

Judge Woodward (Democrat) was also seen, and his name was called out, but he arose from his seat and went quietly out. With the encroachment upon good taste (for certainly Congressmen have some rights which the public should respect) the convention has lived its brief life, and left its mark upon the age.

Olivia.