Though words of love are seldom written or spoken by one of us to the other, there must ever remain the abiding faith that the heart still beats true and fond.  Our family is now so widely separated that our enjoyment must consist in soul communing.  Indeed, I almost believe in the power of affection to draw unto itself the yearning heart of the absent one.  What the modern Spiritualist tells of feeling the presence of departed friends and enjoying their loving ministrations, I sometimes imagine to be true, not of the spirits of those gone hence, but of those still in the body who are separated from us.  I often pass blessed moments in these sweet, silent communings....  Every day brings to me new conceptions of life and its duties, and it is my constant desire that I may be strong and fearless, baring my arm to the encounter and pressing cheerfully forward, though the way is rough and thorny.

I have just returned from the hardest three weeks’ tour of anti-slavery meetings I have had yet, so cold and disheartening.  The masses seem devoid of conscience and looking only for some new expedient to accomplish the desired good; but in every town there are some true spirits who walk in God’s sunlight and do what is right, trusting results to the great Immutable Law....  I wish all the dear ones would write me more often.  Though I am sure of their affection, yet when the soul is burdened and one is surrounded by strangers, a letter from a loved one brings healing to the spirit, and I need it more than I can tell.

There is scarcely a letter to her own family, in the large number preserved, which does not express a longing for love and sympathy, a craving that no public career, no devotion to any cause, however absorbing, ever eradicates from the human soul.

Although so fully occupied, Miss Anthony did not neglect the beloved cause of woman.  This year, however, when she attempted to arrange for the annual convention, she found to her dismay that every one of the speakers whom she always depended upon was unable to be present because of maternal duties.  Some were anticipating an event, others had very young infants, and the older women were kept at home by expected or recently arrived grandchildren.  She was used to overcoming obstacles, but the conditions on this occasion were too much for her and, with feelings which can not well be put into language, she was obliged to give up the national convention, the only one omitted from 1850 to 1861.

Amidst the hard work and many disappointments of the year, there is one gleam of humor in what was known to the family as “Susan’s raspberry experiment.”  During her wanderings she visited her friend Sarah Hallock who had made a great success of raspberry culture, selling 40,000 baskets during the season, and she did not see why she could not do quite as well.  She unfolded her plan to her father, who supported her in that as in everything and gave her