Roland, Frances Power Cobbe, and Victoria Woodhull.  He made a grave mistake in the last names mentioned, as Mrs. Woodhull was a devout believer in the Christian religion, and surely anyone conversant with Miss Cobbe’s writings would never accuse her of skepticism.  His sermon was received with intense indignation, even by the women of his own congregation.  When he found what a whirlwind he had started, he tried to shift his position and explain away much that he had said.  We asked him to let us have the sermon for publication, that we might not do him injustice.  But as he contradicted himself flatly in trying to restate his discourse, and refused to let us see his sermon, those who heard him were disgusted with his sophistry and tergiversation.

However, our labors in this direction are having an effect.  Women are now making their attacks on the Church all along the line.  They are demanding their right to be ordained as ministers, elders, deacons, and to be received as delegates in all the ecclesiastical convocations.  At last they ask of the Church just what they have asked of the State for the last half century—­perfect equality—­and the clergy, as a body, are quite as hostile to their demands as the statesmen.

On my way back to Johnstown I spent ten days at Troy, where I preached in the Unitarian church on Sunday evening.  During this visit we had two hearings in the Capitol at Albany—­one in the Senate Chamber and one in the Assembly, before the Committee on Grievances.  On both occasions Mrs. Mary Seymour Howell, Mrs. Devereux Blake, Mrs. Caroline Gilkey Rogers, and I addressed the Committee.  Being open to the public, the chamber was crowded.  It was nearly forty years since I had made my first appeal in the old Capitol at Albany.  My reflections were sad and discouraging, as I sat there and listened to the speakers and remembered how long we had made our appeals at that bar, from year to year, in vain.  The members of the committee presented the same calm aspect as their predecessors, as if to say, “Be patient, dear sisters, eternity is before us; this is simply a question of time.  What may not come in your day, future generations will surely possess.”  It is always pleasant to know that our descendants are to enjoy life, liberty, and happiness; but, when one is gasping for one breath of freedom, this reflection is not satisfying.

Returning to my native hills, I found the Lenten season had fairly set in, which I always dreaded on account of the solemn, tolling bell, the Episcopal church being just opposite our residence.  On Sunday we had the bells of six churches all going at the same time.  It is strange how long customs continue after the original object has ceased to exist.  At an early day, when the country was sparsely settled and the people lived at great distances, bells were useful to call them together when there was to be a church service.  But now, when the churches are always open on Sunday, and every congregation knows the hour of services and all have clocks, bells are not only useless, but they are a terrible nuisance to invalids and nervous people.  If I am ever so fortunate as to be elected a member of a town council, my first efforts will be toward the suppression of bells.