and invigorating remarks, she introduced Mrs. Stanton, who was robed in quiet black, with an elegant lace shawl over her shoulders and her beautiful white hair modestly ornamented with a ribbon.  Her appearance was very motherly and winning.  Great applause followed her address, and as she took her seat Celia Burleigh read the resolutions adopted on Monday by Sorosis, which were heartily reaffirmed by all present.  After remarks by Miss Anthony, Jenny June Croly, Mrs. Robert Dale Owen, Eleanor Kirk and others, a petition to Governor Hoffman, asking that McFarland be placed in an insane asylum, was enthusiastically endorsed.

So great was the desire that a similar meeting was held in Brooklyn.  These assemblies threw the newspaper’s into convulsions of horror that modest and shrinking women should dare discuss such questions, advocate the same moral standard for both sexes, criticise judge, jury and laws, and demand a different kind of justice from that which men were in the habit of dealing out.  Miss Anthony and Mrs. Stanton came in for their usual lion’s share of censure, but they had so long offered themselves as a vicarious sacrifice that they had learned to take criticism and abuse philosophically.  For weeks afterwards, however, they received letters from unhappy wives in all parts of the country, thanking them for their attitude in this affair, and pouring out the story of their own wretchedness.

Miss Anthony had little time to think about either the reproof or the approval, for the next day after this meeting saw the beginning of one of the most sorrowful tragedies in her life—­the giving up of The Revolution!  The favorable financial auspices under which it was launched have been described, and an imperfect idea given of the storm of opposition it encountered because of the alliance with Mr. Train.  He put into the paper about $3,000 and severed his connection with it after sixteen months.  Mr. Melliss continued his assistance for nearly the same length of time, contributing altogether $7,000.  He was its staunch supporter as long as his means would allow, but at length became apprehensive that it never would reach a paying basis and, as he was not a man of wealth, felt unable to advance more money.

From a pecuniary point of view things looked very dark for The Revolution.  Every newspaper, in its early days, swallows up money like a bottomless well.  The Revolution had started on an expensive basis; its office rent was $1,300 per annum; it was printed on the best of paper, which at that time was very costly; typesetting commanded the highest prices.  Partly as a matter of pride and partly for the interest of the paper, Miss Anthony was not willing to reduce expenses.  At the end of the first year The Revolution had 2,000, and at the end of the second year 3,000 bona fide, paying subscribers, but these could not sustain it without plenty of advertising, and advertisers never lavish money on a reform paper.  Mr. Pillsbury’s