when Sarah and Angelina Grimke began their crusade, it was an almost unheard of thing for a woman to raise her voice in any but a church prayer-meeting.  During the sittings of the Anti-Slavery Convention in Philadelphia, in 1833, which was attended by a number of women, chiefly Friends, Lucretia Mott, though she had had experience in speaking in Quaker meetings, timidly arose one day, and, in fear lest she might offend, ventured to propose an amendment to a certain resolution.  With rare indulgence and good sense, Beriah Green, the president of the convention, encouraged her to proceed; and May, in his “Recollections,” says:  “She made a more impressive and effective speech than any other that was made in the convention, excepting only the closing address of our president.”

Two other ladies, Esther Moore and Lydia White, emboldened by Mrs. Mott’s example, afterwards said a few words on one or two occasions, but these were the only infringements, during all those early years of agitation, of St. Paul’s oft-quoted injunction.

When Sarah and Angelina Grimke accepted the invitation of the Female Anti-Slavery Society of Boston, to come and labor there, they found friends on every hand—­women of the highest culture and purest religion, eager to hear them, not only concerning what their eyes had witnessed in that land of worse than Egyptian bondage, but ready to be enlightened upon their own duties and rights in the matter of moral reform, and as willing as resolute to perform them.  Without experience, as the sisters were, we can hardly be surprised that they should have been carried beyond their original moorings, and have made what many of their best friends felt was a serious mistake, in uniting the two causes, thus laying upon abolitionists a double burden, and a responsibility to which the great majority of them were as much opposed as were their bitterest enemies.  But no movement in this direction was made for some time.  Indeed, it seems to have grown quite naturally out of, or been forced forward by, the alarm among men, and the means they took to frighten and warn women away from the dangerous topic.

The Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Convention met early in June, 1837.  In writing about it to Jane Smith, Angelina first touches upon the dawning feeling on this woman question.  She says:—­

“We had Stanton and Burleigh, Colver and Birney, Garrison and Goodell, etc.  Their eloquence was no less delightful to the ear than the soundness of their doctrine was comforting to the heart....  A peace resolution was brought up, but this occasioned some difficulty on account of non-resistance here meaning a repudiation of civil government, and of course we cannot expect many to be willing to do this....  At Friend Chapman’s, where we spent a social evening, I had a long talk with the brethren on the rights of women, and found a very general sentiment prevailing that it is time our fetters were broken.  L. Child and Maria Chapman strongly supported this