Who does not feel sympathy for Susan Anthony?  She has striven long and earnestly to become a man.  She has met with some rebuffs, but has never succumbed.  She has never done any good in the world, but then she doesn’t think so.  She is sweet in the eyes of her own mirror, but her advanced age and maiden name deny that she has been so in the eyes of others.  Boldly she marched, and well, into the presence of 200 horrid male delegates of the Labor Congress, and took somebody’s seat....  Susan felt very much like a grizzly bear unable to get at its tormentor.  She had gone to the length of her chain and couldn’t get her claws into any one’s hair.  She could only sit and glare.

At length Susan’s case came up for consideration, and the congress committed the crowning act of rashness and, without a thought of the consequences, made an everlasting enemy of Susan Anthony by ruling her out of the convention as a delegate.  This was the unkindest cut of all.  “A lone, lorn old critter,” with whom everything “goes contrairie,” was denied the solace of being counted the one-two-hundreth part of a man by a labor convention!  We may well believe that Susan wept with sorrow at the blindness of man, and our sympathy if not our tears is freely offered.  But so goes the world.  This is not the first time that “man’s inhumanity to woman” has made Miss Anthony mourn and, as it is not her first rebuff, we counsel her to seek admission again to the ranks of her sex, and cease to cast reproach upon it by struggling to be a man.

When some of the women remonstrated, the editor replied that he had not supposed there was one woman in Utica who believed in equal rights.

Paulina Wright Davis had been actively arranging for a great convention in New York to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of the first woman’s rights convention in Massachusetts, which was held at Worcester, in October, 1850.  That one had been managed almost wholly by Mrs. Davis and she had presided over its deliberations, therefore it seemed proper for her to be the central figure in celebrating its second decade.  The New England suffrage people declined to take part in this meeting and, for some reason, Mr. Tilton’s Union Society was decidedly averse to it.  Mrs. Davis finally became ill from anxiety and overwork and joined her entreaties to Mrs. Stanton’s that Miss Anthony should drop her lectures and come to New York; so she started for that city September 30, determined that Mrs. Davis’ scheme should not be a failure.  The entries in her journal give some idea of her energetic and unwearied action: