Volume I Part 51 (1/2)

I found in this new friend a woman emanc.i.p.ated from all faith in man-made creeds, from all fear of his denunciations. Nothing was too sacred for her to question, as to its rightfulness in principle and practice. ”Truth for authority, not authority for truth,” was not only the motto of her life, but it was the fixed mental habit in which she most rigidly held herself. It seemed to me like meeting a being from some larger planet, to find a woman who dared to question the opinions of Popes, Kings, Synods, Parliaments, with the same freedom that she would criticise an editorial in the _London Times_, recognizing no higher authority than the judgment of a pure-minded, educated woman.

When I first heard from the lips of Lucretia Mott that I had the same right to think for myself that Luther, Calvin, and John Knox had, and the same right to be guided by my own convictions, and would no doubt live a higher, happier life than if guided by theirs, I felt at once a new-born sense of dignity and freedom; it was like suddenly coming into the rays of the noon-day sun, after wandering with a rushlight in the caves of the earth. When I confessed to her my great enjoyment in works of fiction, dramatic performances, and dancing, and feared from underneath that Quaker bonnet (I now loved so well) would come some plat.i.tudes on the demoralizing influence of such frivolities, she smiled, and said, ”I regard dancing a very harmless amus.e.m.e.nt”; and added, ”the Evangelical Alliance that so readily pa.s.sed a resolution declaring dancing a sin for a church member, tabled a resolution declaring slavery a sin for a bishop.”

Sitting alone one day, as we were about to separate in London, I expressed to her my great satisfaction in her acquaintance, and thanked her for the many religious doubts and fears she had banished from my mind. She said, ”There is a broad distinction between religion and theology. The one is a natural, human experience common to all well-organized minds. The other is a system of speculations about the unseen and the unknowable, which the human mind has no power to grasp or explain, and these speculations vary with every sect, age, and type of civilization. No one knows any more of what lies beyond our sphere of action than thou and I, and we know nothing.” Everything she said seemed to me so true and rational, that I accepted her words of wisdom with the same confiding satisfaction that did the faithful Crito those of his beloved Socrates. And yet this pure, grand woman was shunned and feared by the Orthodox Friends throughout England. While in London a rich young Quaker of bigoted tendencies, who made several breakfast and tea parties for the American delegates, always omitted to invite Mrs. Mott. He very politely said to her on one occasion when he was inviting others in her presence, ”Thou must excuse me, Lucretia, for not inviting thee with the rest, but I fear thy influence on my children!!”

On several occasions when we all met at social gatherings in London, Elizabeth Fry studiously avoided being in the same apartment with Lucretia Mott. If Mrs. Mott was conversing with a circle of friends on the lawn, Mrs. Fry would glide into the house. If Mrs. Mott entered at one door, Mrs. Fry walked out the other. She really seemed afraid to breathe the same atmosphere. On another occasion, at William Ball's, at Tottenham, when more circ.u.mscribed quarters made escape impossible, it was announced that Mrs. Fry felt a concern to say something to those present. When all was silent she knelt and prayed, pouring forth a solemn Jeremiad against the apostasy and infidelity of the day in language so pointed and personal, that we all felt that Mrs. Mott was the special subject of her pet.i.tion. She accepted the intercession with all due humility, and fortunately for the harmony of the occasion was not moved to pray for Mrs. Fry, that she might have more love and charity for those who honestly differed with her on unimportant points of theology. How hateful such bigotry looks to those capable of getting outside their own educational prejudices. How pitiable, that even good people should thus allow themselves to ostracise and persecute those who hold different opinions from their own. Elizabeth Fry was not afraid to mingle in Newgate prison with the sc.u.m of the earth, but she was afraid to touch the hem of Lucretia Mott's garment.

If Mrs. Fry felt that she had a higher truth, how did she know that she might not influence Mrs. Mott for good? Lucretia was never afraid of anybody. Nothing would have pleased her better than to compare her pearls of thought and faith with Elizabeth Fry.

Visiting in many Quaker families during our travels in England, I was amazed to hear Mrs. Mott spoken of as a most dangerous woman. Again and again I was warned against her influence. She was spoken of as an infidel, a heretic, a disturber, who had destroyed the peace in the Friends Society in Pennsylvania, and thrown a firebrand into the World's Convention, and that in a recent speech in London she quoted sentiments from Mary Wollstonecroft and Thomas Paine. Having just learned to wors.h.i.+p Lucretia Mott as the embodiment of all that was n.o.ble and charming in womanhood, the terrible fear that she inspired among English ”Friends” filled me with sorrow and surprise. I never ventured to mention her name in their homes unless they first introduced it.

Sitting in the World's Convention one day after half the world had been voted out, when Joseph Sturge, a wealthy Quaker, occupied the chair, I suggested to Mrs. Mott a dangerous contingency. Said I, ”Suppose in spite of the vote of excommunication the Spirit should move you to speak, what could the chairman do, and which would you obey? the Spirit or the Convention?” She promptly replied, ”Where the Spirit of G.o.d is, there is liberty.”

Many anecdotes are told of Mrs. Mott's rigid economy, such as sewing together the smallest rags to be woven into carpets, and writing letters on infinitesimal bits of paper; but it must not be inferred from this peculiarity that she was penurious, as she was generous in her charities, and in the support of every good cause. Considering her means and the self-denial she practiced in her personal expenses, her gifts were lavish. Alfred Love, President of the Peace Society, who frequently received letters from Mrs. Mott, says: ”The one before me is two and a half inches wide by two and a quarter inches long, written on both sides, and contains one hundred and forty-one words, and treats of seven distinct matters, and disposes of them in good order, apologizing for her apparent economy of paper, and enclosing a contribution of five dollars for a benevolent object.” Though she always dressed in Quaker costume, she attached no special significance to it as a means of grace. One Sunday morning at a religious meeting, she was in her accustomed seat in the gallery, when a young man, a stranger to many, spoke in behalf of Peace. At the close of the meeting some one who could not see the speaker asked Lucretia Mott his name, and added: ”Does he wear a standing collar and dress plain?” She replied in her happy, cheerful manner, ”Well, really I did not look to see, I was too much interested in what he said to look at the cut of his coat.”

'Mid all the differences, dissensions, and personal antagonisms, through the years we have labored together in the Woman's Rights movement, I can not recall one word or occasion in which Mrs. Mott's influence has not been for harmony, good-will, and the broadest charity. She endured too much persecution herself ever to join in persecuting others. In every reform she stood in the fore-front of the battle. Wherever there was a trying emergency to be met, there you could rely on Lucretia Mott. She never dodged responsibility nor disagreeable occasions. At one time when excitement on the divorce question ran high in New York, and there was a great hue and cry about free love on our platform, I was invited to speak before the Legislature on the bill then pending asking ”divorce for drunkenness.”

We chose the time at the close of one of our Conventions, that Mrs.

Mott might be present, which she readily consented to do, and promised to speak if she felt moved. She charged Ernestine Rose and myself not to take too radical ground, in view of the hostility to the bill, but to keep closely to the merits of the main question. I told her she might feel sure of me, as I had my speech written, and I would read it to her, which I did, and received her approval.

The time arrived for the hearing, and a magnificent audience greeted us at the Capitol. The bill was read, I made the opening speech, Mrs.

Rose followed. We had asked for the modification of certain statutes and the pa.s.sage of others making the laws more equal for man and woman. Mrs. Mott having listened attentively to all that was said, and coming to the conclusion that with eighteen different causes for divorce in the different States, there might as well be no laws at all on the question, she arose and said, that ”she had not thought profoundly on this subject, but it seemed to her that no laws whatever on this relation would be better than such as bound pure, innocent women in bondage to dissipated, unprincipled men. With such various laws in the different States, and fugitives from the marriage bond fleeing from one to another, would it not be better to place all the States on the same basis, and thus make our national laws h.o.m.ogeneous?” She was surprised on returning to the residence of Lydia Mott, to hear that her speech was altogether the most radical of the three. The bold statement of ”no laws,” however, was so sugar-coated with eulogies on good men and the sacredness of the marriage relation, that the press complimented the moderation of Mrs. Mott at our expense. We have had many a laugh over that occasion.

An amusing incident occurred the first year, 1869, we held a Convention in Was.h.i.+ngton. Chaplain Gray, of the Senate, was invited to open the Convention with prayer. Mrs. Mott and I were sitting close together, with our heads bowed and eyes closed, listening to the invocation. As the chaplain proceeded, he touched the garden scene in Paradise, and spoke of woman as a secondary creation, called into being for the especial benefit of man, an afterthought with the Creator. Straightening up, Mrs. Mott whispered to me, ”I can not bow my head to such absurdities.” Edward M. Davis, in the audience, noticed his mother's movements, and knowing that what had struck his mind had no doubt disturbed hers also, he immediately left the hall, returning shortly after Bible in hand, that he might confound the chaplain with the very book he had quoted. He ascended the platform just as Mr. Gray said ”amen,” and read from the opening chapter of Genesis, the account of the simultaneous creation of man and woman, in which dominion was given to both alike over every living thing. After Mr. Davis made a few pertinent remarks on the allegorical character of the second chapter of Genesis, Mrs. Mott followed with a critical a.n.a.lysis of the prayer, and the portion of the Scripture read by her son, showing the eternal oneness and equality of man and woman, the union of the masculine and feminine elements, like the positive and negative magnetism, the centripetal and centrifugal forces in nature, pervading the animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms, the whole world of thought and action, as there could have been no perpetuation of creation without these elements equal and eternal in the G.o.dhead. The press commented on the novelty of reviewing an address to the throne of grace, particularly when uttered by the chaplain of Congress. Mrs.

Mott remarked on these criticisms, ”If we can teach clergymen to be as careful what they say to G.o.d as to man, our Conventions at the capital will be of great service to our representatives.”

As a writer Mrs. Mott was clear and concise; her few published sermons, her charming private letters and diary, with what those who knew her best can remember, are all of her thoughts bequeathed to posterity. As a speaker she was calm, clear, and unimpa.s.sioned; indulged but little in wit, humor, or pathos, but by her good common sense and liberality on all questions, by her earnestness and simplicity, she held the most respectful attention of her audiences.

Hence an occasional touch of humor or sarcasm, or an outburst of eloquent indignation came from her with great power. She had what the Friends call unction; that made the most radical utterances from her lips acceptable. In her conversation she was original and brilliant, earnest and playful. Such was her persuasiveness of voice and manner that opinions received with hisses from another speaker, were applauded when uttered by Mrs. Mott.

Some one has said that ”sagacity, a mental quick-wittedness for meeting an emergency, a sagacity that might have been called shrewdness, had it not been for a pervading heart quality that went with it, was one of her prominent traits.” Perhaps a wise diplomacy might express this quality more nearly. No one knew better than she how to avoid the sharp angles of a character or an occasion, as the many anecdotes told of her so fully ill.u.s.trate.

Returning from England in 1840, in a merchant vessel, a large number of Irish emigrants were on board in the steerage. On the voyage Mrs.

Mott was moved to hold a religious meeting among them, but the matter being broached to them, their Catholic prejudices objected. They would not hear a woman preach, for women priest were not allowed in their Church. But the spirit that was pressing upon the ”woman preacher” for utterance was not to be prevented from delivering its message without a more strenuous effort to remove the obstacle. She asked that the emigrants might be invited to come together to consider with her whether they would have a meeting. This was but fair and right, and they came. She then explained how different her idea of a meeting was from a church service to which they were accustomed; that she had no thought of saying anything derogatory of that service nor of the priests who ministered to them; that her heart had been drawn to them in sympathy, as they were leaving their old homes for new ones in America; and that she had wanted to address them as to their habits and aims in their every-day life in such a way as to help them in the land of strangers to which they were going. And then asking if they would listen (and they were already listening because her gracious voice and words so entranced them they could not help it), she said she would give an outline of what she had wanted to say at the meeting, and so she was drawn on by the silent sympathy she had secured until the Spirit's message was delivered; and only the keenest witted of her Catholic hearers waked up to the fact, as they were going out, that they had got the preachment from the woman priest after all.

Presiding at a woman's convention on one occasion, a speaker painted a very vivid picture in the darkest colors of this nation's injustice to oppressed cla.s.ses, and from the experience of other nations not based upon principle, he foretold the certain downfall of our republic. On rising, he had said that ”he feared he should not be able to do his theme justice, as he had just risen from a bed of sickness,” but warming up with his subject he rivaled Isaiah in his Jeremiad, and left his audience in gloom and despair, the president sharing in the general feeling, for the appeal had been thrilling and terrible. In a moment, however, Mrs. Mott arose, saying: ”I trust our future is not as hopeless as our faithful friend, Parker Pillsbury, has just pictured. We must remember he told us in starting that he had just risen from a bed of sickness, and that may in a measure account for his gloomy forebodings.” The audience burst forth into a roar of applause and laughter, and the president introduced the next speaker, seemingly unconscious that she had stabbed the prophet through and through, and dissipated the effect of his warnings.

Mrs. Mott was frequently chosen the presiding officer of the early conventions. Though she seldom regarded Cus.h.i.+ng's Manual in her rulings, she maintained order and good feeling by the persuasiveness and serenity of her voice and manner. Emerson says: ”It is not what the man says, but it is the spirit behind it which makes the impression.” It was this subtle magnetism of the true, grand woman, ever faithful to her highest convictions of truth, that made her always respected in every position she occupied. Hers was pure moral power, for in that frail organization there could be but little of what is called physical magnetism. Her placid face showed that she was at peace with herself, the first requisite in a successful leader of reform. That Mrs. Mott could have maintained her sweetness and charity to the end, is a marvel in view of the varied and protracted persecutions she endured.

Rarely have so many different and superior qualities been combined in one woman. She had great personal beauty; her brow and eye were remarkable. Although small in stature, it is said of her as it was of Channing, he too being of diminutive size, that she made you think she was larger than she was. She had a look of command. The amount of will force and intelligent power in her small body was enough to direct the universe; yet she was modest and una.s.suming and had none of the personal airs of leaders.h.i.+p. Her manners were gentle and self-possessed under all circ.u.mstances. Her conversation, though generally serious, earnest and logical, was sometimes playful and always good humored. Her att.i.tude of mind was receptive. She never seemed to think even in her latest years that she had explored all truth. Though she had very clearly defined opinions on every subject that came under her consideration, she never dogmatized.

It was this healthy balance of good qualities that made her great among other women of genius; and the multiplicity of her interests in human affairs that kept her fresh and young to the last. The thinkers, the scholars, the broadest intellects are often the octogenarians, while the narrow selfish souls dry up in their own channels. One of her n.o.ble sisters in reform has truly said, ”Birth made Victoria a queen, but her own pure, sweet life made Lucretia Mott a queen; queen of a realm on which the sun never sets, the realm of humanity. If ever any one inherited the earth it was this blessed Quaker woman.”

s.p.a.ce fails me to tell of all the pleasant memories of our forty years friends.h.i.+p, of the inspiration she has been to those on our platform, of the bond of union to hold us together, of the innumerable conventions over which she has presided, of the many long journeys both North and South to carry the glad tidings of justice, liberty, and equality to all. A missionary who always traveled at her own expense, giving her best thoughts freely, asking nothing in return, neither money, praise, nor honor; for misrepresentation and cruel persecution were the only return she had for years. Both in religion and reform hers was a free gospel to the mult.i.tude.

As division has been the law in politics, religion, and reform, woman suffrage proved no exception. But Lucretia Mott and her n.o.ble sister, Martha O. Wright, remained steadfast with those who had taken the initiative steps in calling the first Convention, and with the larger and more radical division their sympathies remained, both being prominent officers of the National Woman Suffrage a.s.sociation at the time of their death. They fully endorsed the great lesson of the war, National protection for United States citizens, applied to woman as well as to the African race, the doctrine the a.s.sociation to which they belonged has so successfully advocated at Was.h.i.+ngton for twelve years.

Reading the numerous complimentary obituary notices of our long loved friend, so fair, so tender, so full of praise, we have exclaimed, what changes the pa.s.sing years have wrought in the popular estimate of a woman once considered so dangerous an innovator in the social and religious world; and yet the Lucretia Mott of to-day is only the perfected, well-rounded character of half a century ago. But the slowly moving ma.s.ses that feared her then as an infidel, a fanatic, an uns.e.xed woman, have followed her footsteps until a broader outlook has expanded their moral vision. The ”vagaries” of the anti-slavery struggle, in which she took a leading part, have been coined into law; and the ”wild fantasies” of the Abolitionists are now the XIII., XIV., and XV. Amendments to the National Const.i.tution. The prolonged and bitter schisms in the Society of Friends have shed new light on the tyranny of creeds and scriptures. The infidel Hicksite principles that shocked Christendom, are now the corner-stones of the liberal religious movement in this country. The demand for woman's social, civil, and political equality--in which she was foremost--laughed at from the Atlantic to the Pacific, has been recognized in a measure by courts and legislatures, in Great Britain and the United States. The old Blackstone code for woman has received its death-blow, and the colleges, trades, and professions have been opened for her admission.

The name of Lucretia Mott represents more fully than any other in the nineteenth century, the sum of all womanly virtues. As wife, mother, friend, she was marked for her delicate sentiments, warm affections, and steadfast loyalty; as housekeeper, for her rigid economy, cleanliness, order, and exhaustless patience with servants and children; as neighbor, for justice and honor in all her dealings; as teacher, even at the early age of fifteen, for her skill and faithfulness.