In October Hattie went to London, to attend a meeting to form a Woman’s Liberal Federation.  Mrs. Gladstone presided.  The speeches made were simply absurd, asking women to organize themselves to help the Liberal party, which had steadily denied to them the political rights they had demanded for twenty years.  Professor Stuart capped the climax of insult when he urged as “one great advantage in getting women to canvass for the Liberal party was that they would give their services free.”  The Liberals saw what enthusiasm the Primrose Dames had roused for the Tory party, really carrying the election, and they determined to utilize a similar force in their ranks.  But the whole movement was an insult to women.

The one absorbing interest, then, was the Queen’s Jubilee.  Ladies formed societies to collect funds to place at the disposal of the Queen.  Every little village was divided into districts, and different ladies took the rounds, begging pennies at every door of servants and the laboring masses, and pounds of the wealthy people.  One of them paid us a visit.  She asked the maid who opened the door to see the rest of the servants, and she begged a penny of each of them.  She then asked to see the mistress.  My daughter descended; but, instead of a pound, she gave her a lecture on the Queen’s avarice.  When the fund was started the people supposed the Queen was to return it all to the people in liberal endowments of charitable institutions, but her Majesty proposed to build a monument to Prince Albert, although he already had one in London.  “The Queen,” said my daughter, “should celebrate her Jubilee by giving good gifts to her subjects, and not by filching from the poor their pennies.  To give half her worldly possessions to her impoverished people, to give Home Rule to Ireland, or to make her public schools free, would be deeds worthy her Jubilee; but to take another cent from those who are hopelessly poor is a sin against suffering humanity.”  The young woman realized the situation and said:  “I shall go no farther.  I wish I could return every penny I have taken from the needy.”

The most fitting monuments this nation can build are schoolhouses and homes for those who do the work of the world.  It is no answer to say that they are accustomed to rags and hunger.  In this world of plenty every human being has a right to food, clothes, decent shelter, and the rudiments of education.  “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark” when one-tenth of the human family, booted and spurred, ride the masses to destruction.  I detest the words “royalty” and “nobility,” and all the ideas and institutions based on their recognition.  In April the great meeting in Hyde Park occurred—­a meeting of protest against the Irish Coercion Bill.  It was encouraging to see that there is a democratic as well as an aristocratic England.  The London journals gave very different accounts of the meeting.  The Tories said it was a mob of inconsequential cranks.  Reason teaches us, however, that you cannot get up a large, enthusiastic meeting unless there is some question pending that touches the heart of the people.  Those who say that Ireland has no grievances are ignorant alike of human nature and the facts of history.