majority as to bring the movement into needless contempt.  Even as a matter of “agitation,” I do not think it would pay.  Look over the whole country and see in the present state of public sentiment on the question of woman suffrage what a mighty primary work remains to be done in enlightening the masses, who know nothing and care nothing about it and, consequently, are not at all prepared to cast their vote for any such thing.  I think it is a mistake to look for a favorable consideration of the question on the part of legislators under such circumstances.  More light is needed for the popular mind.

In the early days of the anti-slavery agitation, Mr. Garrison never waited for the popular mind to become prepared but, by the ploughshare of bold, aggressive action, he turned up the soil and made it ready for the seed.  When “more light” was needed, by vigorous effort he stirred up a blaze which illuminated the world.

From Wendell Phillips came the old-time clarion note:  “I think you are on the right track—­the best method to agitate the question—­and I am with you, though, between you and me, I still think the individual States must lead off and that this reform must advance piecemeal, State by State.  But I mean always to help everywhere and every one.”

The convention met in Lincoln Hall, January 16 and 17.  Although there had been but a few weeks for the work, petitions asking a Sixteenth Amendment were received from twenty-six different States, aggregating over 10,000 names.  The History says:  “To Sara Andrews Spencer we are indebted for the great labor of receiving, assorting, counting, rolling-up and planning the presentation of the petitions.  It was by a well-considered coup d’etat that, with her brave coadjutors, she appeared on the floor of the House and gave each member a petition from his own State.  Even Miss Anthony, always calm in the hour of danger, on finding herself suddenly whisked into those sacred enclosures, amid a crowd of stalwart men, spittoons and scrap-baskets, when brought vis-a-vis with our champion, Mr. Hoar, hastily apologized for the intrusion, to which the honorable gentleman promptly replied, ’I hope, madam, yet to see you on this floor in your own right and in business hours too.’”

The spectacle is variously described.[91] The trustworthy correspondent of the Independent, Mary Clemmer, looked at the proceedings with a woman’s eyes and, in her weekly letter, thus vented her indignation: 

A few read the petitions as they would any other, with dignity and without comment; but the majority seemed intensely conscious of holding something unutterably funny in their hands.  They appeared to consider it a huge joke.  The entire Senate presented the appearance of a laughing-school practising side-splitting and ear-extended grins.  Mr. Wadleigh leaned back in his chair and shook with laughter, after portraying to his next neighbor, Pinkney Whyte, of Maryland, the apparition of Pinkney’s