silence, be the emblem of despotism, we joyfully take the ever restless ocean for ours, only pure because never still.  To be as good as our fathers, we must be better.  They silenced their fears and subdued their prejudices, inaugurating free speech and equality with no precedent on the file.  Let us rise to their level, crush appetite, and prohibit temptation if it rots great cities; intrench labor in sufficient bulwarks against that wealth which, without the tenfold strength of modern incorporations, wrecked the Grecian and Roman states; and, with a sterner effort still, summon woman into civil life, as re-enforcement to our laboring ranks, in the effort to make our civilization a success.  Sit not like the figure on our silver coin, looking ever backward.

    “’New occasions teach new duties,
     Time makes ancient good uncouth,
    They must upward still and onward,
     Who would keep abreast of truth. 
    Lo! before us gleam her watch fires—­
     We ourselves must pilgrims be,
    Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly
     Through the desperate winter sea,
    Nor attempt the future’s portal
     With the past’s blood-rusted key.’”

That Harvard speech in the face of fashion, bigotry, and conservatism—­so liberal, so eloquent, so brave—­is a model for every young man, who, like the orator, would devote his talents to the best interests of the race, rather than to his personal ambition for mere worldly success.

Toward the end of October, Miss Anthony returned, after a rest of two months, and we commenced work again on the second volume of the History.  November 2 being election day, the Republican carriage, decorated with flags and evergreens, came to the door for voters.  As I owned the house and paid the taxes, and as none of the white males was home, I suggested that I might go down and do the voting, whereupon the gentlemen who represented the Republican committee urged me, most cordially, to do so.  Accompanied by my faithful friend, Miss Anthony, we stepped into the carriage and went to the poll, held in the hotel where I usually went to pay taxes.  When we entered the room it was crowded with men.  I was introduced to the inspectors by Charles Everett, one of our leading citizens, who said:  “Mrs. Stanton is here, gentlemen, for the purpose of voting.  As she is a taxpayer, of sound mind, and of legal age, I see no reason why she should not exercise this right of citizenship.”

The inspectors were thunderstruck.  I think they were afraid that I was about to capture the ballot box.  One placed his arms round it, with one hand close over the aperture where the ballots were slipped in, and said, with mingled surprise and pity, “Oh, no, madam!  Men only are allowed to vote.”  I then explained to him that, in accordance with the Constitution of New Jersey, women had voted in New Jersey down to 1801, when they were forbidden the further exercise of the right by an arbitrary act