Miss Anthony made a strong speech on “The Power of the Ballot,” which was well received until she came to the peroration.  Her purpose had been to prove false the theory that all women are supported and protected by men.  She had demonstrated clearly the fact that in the life of nearly every woman there came a time when she must rely on herself alone.  She asserted that while she might grant, for the sake of the argument, that every man protected his own wife and daughter, his own mother and sister, the columns of the daily papers gave ample evidence that man did not protect woman as woman.  She gave sundry facts to illustrate this point, among them the experience of Sister Irene, who had established a foundling hospital in New York two years before, and at the close of the first year reported 1,300 little waifs laid in the basket at the door.  These figures, she said, proved that there were at least 1,300 women in that city who had not been protected by men.  She continued impressively:  “If all men had protected all women as they would have their own wives and daughters protected, you would have no Laura Fair in your jail tonight.”

Then burst forth a tremendous hissing, seemingly from every part of the house!  She had heard that sound in the old anti-slavery days and quietly stood until there came a lull, when she repeated the sentence.  Again came a storm of hisses, but this time they were mingled with cheers.  Again she waited for a pause, and then made the same assertion for the third time.  Her courage challenged the admiration of the audience, which broke out into a roar of applause, and she closed by saying:  “I declare to you that woman must not depend upon the protection of man, but must be taught to protect herself, and there I take my stand.”

The next morning, however, she was denounced by the city papers as having vindicated the murder and justified the life which Mrs. Fair had led!  Those who had not heard the lecture believed these reports, and other papers in the State took up the cry.  Even the press of New York and other eastern cities joined in the chorus, but the latter was much more severe on Mrs. Stanton, who in newspaper interviews did not hesitate to declare her sympathy for Mrs. Fair; and yet for some reason, perhaps because Miss Anthony had dared refer boldly to crime in high places in San Francisco, the batteries there were turned wholly upon her.  In her diary she says:  “Never in all my hard experience have I been under such fire.”  So terrific was the onslaught that no one could come to her rescue with a public explanation or defense.  Miss Anthony had cut San Francisco in a sore spot and it did not propose to give her another chance to use the scalpel.  She attempted to speak in adjacent towns but her journal says:  “The shadow of the newspapers hung over me.”  At length she resolved to cancel all her lecture engagements and wait quietly until the storm passed over and the public mind grew calm.  She writes in her diary, a week later:  “Some friends called but the clouds over me are so heavy I could not greet them as I would have liked.  I never before was so cut down.”  She tells the story to her sister Mary, who replies: