“This reunion was the first general recognition of the debt the present owes to the past.  It was the first effort to show the extent to which later development has been inspired and made possible by the freedom to think and work claimed in that earlier time by women like Lucretia Mott, Lucy Stone, Mrs. Stanton, and many others whose names stand as synonyms of noble service for the race.  To those who looked at the reunion from this point of view it could not fail of inspiration.

“For the followers in lines of philanthropic work to look in the faces and hear the voices of women like Clara Barton and Mary Livermore; for the multitude enlisted in the crowded ranks of literature to feel in the living presence, what literature owes to women like Julia Ward Howe; for the white ribbon army to turn from its one great leader of to-day whose light, spreading to the horizon, does not obscure or dim the glory of the crusade leaders of the past; for art lovers and art students to call to mind sculptors like Harriet Hosmer and Anna Whitney, and remember the days when art was a sealed book to women; for the followers of the truly divine art of healing to honor the Blackwell sisters and the memory of Mme. Clemence Lozier; for the mercy of surgery to reveal itself in the face of Dr. Cushier, who has proved for us that heart of pity and hand of skill need never be divorced; for women lifting their eyes to meet the face of Phebe A. Hanaford and Anna Shaw and other women who to-day in the pulpit, as well as out of it, may use a woman’s right to minister to needy souls; for the ofttime sufferers from unrighteous law to welcome women lawyers; for the throng of working women to read backward through the story of four hundred industries to their beginning in the ‘four,’ and remember that each new door had opened because some women toiled and strove; for all these the exercises were a part of a great thanksgiving paean, each phase of progress striking its own chord, and finding each its echo in the hearts that held it dear.

“To the student of history, or to him who can read the signs of the times, there was such a profound significance in this occasion as makes one shrink from dwelling too much upon the external details.  Yet as a pageant only it was a most inspiring sight, and one truly worthy of a queen.  Indeed as we run the mind back over the pages of history, what queen came to a more triumphant throne in the hearts of a grateful people?  What woman ever before sat silver-crowned, canopied with flowers, surrounded not by servile followers but by men and women who brought to her court the grandest service they had wrought, their best thought crystallized in speech and song.  Greater than any triumphal procession that ever marked a royal passage through a kingdom was it to know that in a score or more of cities, in many a village church on that same night festive fires were lighted, and the throng kept holiday, bringing for tribute not gold and gems but noblest aspirations, truest gratitude, and highest ideals for the nation and the race.