Woman’s Rights Discussed by Mesdames Hooker, Blake, Anthony, and Others.

Washington, January 12, 1871.

After the Judiciary Committee meeting adjournment, the leader of the woman suffrage movement visited the Senate to hear Senator Sumner on the San Domingo muddle; but two hours later found Lincoln Hall invaded, and the inevitable ball set in motion, which Susan B. Anthony says never shall rest until woman is in the possession of every right, both foreign and domestic. The sweet liquid voice of Mrs. Hooker called the meeting to order, and the divine Olympia Brown prayed as only a woman can pray when she is thoroughly in earnest.

Mrs. Paulina Davis was on the platform, one of the most queenly women in the court of intellect, and as beautiful and as exquisite as a winter landscape. This woman is the possessor of great wealth, the highest social position, and, to use her own words to describe her: “I care very little for dress; my tastes are very simple. But this movement is very expensive. Last summer I paid the whole expense of a convention in New York City. It cost me five hundred dollars. I don’t mind that, because in this way I think I am doing the greatest good.”

Susan B. Anthony was in her place, for what would a woman suffrage convention be worth without Susan to give it flavor? And then she is so patient and irrepressible, and has such a wholesome antipathy to men.

Miss Lillie Peckham represented the youth and audacity of Wisconsin, and Miss Kate Stanton the beauty and fire of her illustrious name. The people who had assembled to listen, proved, by personal inspection, to have grown higher in the social scale than those attending last year. Women were present who unmistakably were the heads of families—comely matrons who had left the pot boiling at home. Butterflies spread their wings there in the same way as they would attend any other place of amusement, but the wives and daughters of Congressmen for some reason stayed away.

After the prayer, Mrs. Hooker introduced Mrs. Victoria C. Woodhull, who commenced to say that she was not in the habit of speaking in public meetings—a fact which her manner instantly proved. Although it would seem that a Wall-street experience would fit a woman to face the worst, yet Mrs. Woodhull’s heart went pit-a-pat, and the blood rose and fell from her cheek as fortunes go up and down on ‘change. Mrs. Woodhull read anew her petition to the Judiciary Committee, and this being her solitary ewe lamb, after its presentation there was nothing left to do, and she quietly took a back seat.

Mrs. Devereaux Blake, of New York, was then introduced—a medium-sized woman, rather pretty than otherwise, and very carefully done up in handsome, fashionable clothes. Mrs. Blake, however, had nothing new to offer on the question under discussion. She rehashed the subject of women carrying arms, and proved by the old argument this was not a necessity; and then she told us of women’s sacrifices, and how, in extremest dilemma, they had sacrificed their hair. She said a woman’s life was love, and for this reason it was a great wrong to deprive her of that she loved best.

After other weighty arguments of this kind this speaker melted away to give place to Miss Lillie Peckham, of Wisconsin. This young woman did not attempt the difficult task of striking out a new path, but contentedly ambled along over the old highway; but, nevertheless, she had a very interesting, parrot-like way of expressing herself, and very wonderful, because so difficult to imitate.

As the hour of adjournment drew near, Susan B. Anthony came forward and talked “business.” Oh, the inimitable, the delectable Susan; the woman with a peculiar relish which one has to learn to love; the woman of whom a very small piece goes a great way; the musk among drugs; the acid in the Chemist’s laboratory! Susan has finished and the meeting ends.

The evening session of the woman suffrage convention met at the Congregational Church on Tenth street. Before the hour appointed, there was quite a gathering at the church, and the notables, as fast as they arrived, took their seats on the platform. With those assembled on the topmost round of expectation, the coming woman was seen marching up the aisle, wearing the jolly form of Senator Pomeroy. In the modest aspect of this distinguished man, one could see the embryo of the first female President; and Senator Nye following close behind showed that he meant to come in for the second best time on record. All the lights of the morning were on the platform except Tennie Claflin of the Wall-street firm. Miss Claflin must be one of the most charming little brigands in Wall street, else her peaked hat and chubby face tell a wrong story. Her merry brown eyes twinkle like the peepers of Santa Claus or old Nick; and worst of all she keeps her mouth shut, and this proves the brewing of mischief. Tennie looks like one of the women in the picture of the “Merry Wives of Windsor,” and she seems to be the one above all others fitted to sustain her position in Wall street.

Senator Nye arose to open the meeting. He said he had yielded to the pressing invitation of a woman on the platform to preside at the meeting, and had given a reluctant consent. He had never seen a good reason why the mothers of voters should not vote. One thing is certain, as mothers are elevated, so are the children; as women are degraded, the rule holds the same. But he felt that he was out of place in presiding over a meeting of ladies; that he was more in the habit of being presided over by them.

He then introduced Miss Kate Stanton, of Rhode Island, as one of the fairest daughters of the State. Senator Nye added that she had undertaken to work in a field where strong men often fail, but he trusted, in her case, that she would meet with success. Miss Stanton then came forward, half hesitating, her eyes brilliant with excitement and true carnation in her cheek. This was the second time in her life that she had faced an audience, and the ordeal was quite as much as she could bear. She commenced reading her lecture, and when she became accustomed to her own voice she glided along gracefully, as only a truly gifted woman can. Miss Stanton will be one of the stars in the lecture field if she speaks equally well on other subjects as the one at present under discussion. She has a remarkably clear, fine voice, a most pleasing personal presence, an unusually cultivated mind, and the true vim of a young American woman. It is true she did not give us any new ideas about woman suffrage, but she treated the subject in a natural, girlish way; and if sentiment predominated, it seemed a halo around her head, for young people are romantic, and when they are otherwise, the gloss of youth has gone forever. Miss Stanton’s great point in her so-called argument may be summed up in a few words. The laws made by man are fractional. The woman must be added to make the unit.

After Miss Stanton’s logic was finished, Senator Nye introduced Mr. Riddle. The lawyer went over exactly the same ground traversed in the morning before the Judiciary Committee. It is true he enlarged here, cropped off there, but it was the same thing altogether. He commenced by asserting that women were as broadly and deeply citizens as the men of this nation. That the right of government is a natural right. The right to govern is inherent in the people. That there is no right to be conferred, for there is nothing to confer; and that all who stand in the way would have to get out or else get crushed. Mr. Riddle did not make his case clear, and the audience yawned in his presence for applause.

After he had finished, Mrs. Hooker arose and said she did not agree with Mr. Riddle in his denunciation of men; that women equally were to blame for the state of things. “A great many women say they do not wish the ballot, but I can prove to them that they do wish to vote. There are three vital questions equally dear to every woman’s heart: First, there is temperance. Are women indifferent to this? Then, there is education. Are not all women interested in the manner it shall be brought about, whether it shall be secular or religious, or whether education shall be compulsory or otherwise? And there is a third, of most absorbing interest, and this is chastity. The Bible says, ‘The wages of sin is death.’ Sin is sin, no matter who is the sinner. In England, a country governed by a queen, has been the battle-ground of great strife. It has attempted on behalf of the military to pass laws that should make the passage of vice easy, and the wages of sin not death. By some secret iniquity these laws passed Parliament, and then the attempt was made to include the cities with the military, but such women as Harriet Martineau and Florence Nightingale, as well as those belonging to royal families, went to work to prevent this great wrong. Petitions were gotten up, signed by thousands of the workingmen’s wives and daughters, and these petitions were brought to the feet of Parliament and they have, for a time at least, prevented the wrong. France sends word to England that her downfall in a great measure is owing to her social crimes. This subject is now being agitated in our own country. St. Louis and Cincinnati are shaking with doubts. Would you, women of America, have the passage to iniquity and sin made easy for your husbands and sons? These are the great questions upon you which we are obliged to think and speak.” When Mrs. Hooker finished, a kind of awe took possession of her hearers; and whilst this woman dwelt upon this last subject she spoke with all the force of a Beecher and with the purity and delicacy of an angel.

Olivia.