Volume IV Part 51 (2/2)

Haste to the tropics, search the fields of snow, Let the world's gift to her become your quest.

s.h.i.+ne, sun, through prism of the waterfall, And build us here a rainbow arch to span The years, and hold the citadel Of her abiding work for G.o.d and man.

What is the gift, O winds, that ye have brought?

O, sun, what legend s.h.i.+nes your arch above?

Ah, they are one, and all things else are naught, Take them, beloved--they are love, love, love!

Mrs. Blatch spoke eloquently for her mother, saying in part:

I bring to you, Susan B. Anthony, the greetings of your friend and co-worker, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, greetings full of gracious memories. When the cause for which you have worked shall be victorious, then as is the way of the world, will it be forgotten that it ever meant effort or struggle for pioneers; but the friends.h.i.+p of you two women will remain a precious memory in the world's history, unforgotten and unforgettable. Your lives have proved not only that women can work strenuously together without jealousy, but that they can be friends in times of suns.h.i.+ne and peace, of stress and storm. No mere fair-weather friends have you been to each other.

Does not Emerson say that friends.h.i.+p is the slowest fruit in the garden of G.o.d? The fruit of friends.h.i.+p between you two has grown through half a hundred years, each year making it more beautiful, more mellow, more sweet. But you have not been weak echoes of each other; nay, often for the good of each you were thorns in the side. Yet disagreement only quickened loyalty. Supplementing each other, companions.h.i.+p drew out the best in each. You have both been urged to untiring efforts through the sympathy, the help of each other. You have attained the highest achievement in demonstrating a lofty, an ideal friends.h.i.+p. This friends.h.i.+p of you two women is the benediction for our century.

The last and tenderest tribute was offered by the Rev. Anna Howard Shaw who said, in rich, musical accents and with a manner which seemed almost to be inspired, what can only be most inadequately reported:

A little over a hundred years ago there came men who told us what freedom is and what freemen may become. Later women with the same love of it in their hearts said, ”There is no s.e.x in freedom.

Whatever it makes possible for men it will make possible for women.” A few of these daring souls went forth to blaze the path.

Gradually the sunlight of freedom shone in their faces and they encouraged others to follow. They went slowly for the way was hard. They must make the path and it was a weary task. Sometimes darkness settled over them and they must grope their way. Mott, Stanton, Stone, Anthony--not one retraced her footsteps. The two who are left still stand on the summit, great, glorious figures.

We ask, ”Is the way difficult?” They answer, ”Yes, but the sun s.h.i.+nes on us and in the valley they know nothing of its glory.

Their cry we hear and are calling back to those who are still in the valley.”

Leader, comrade, friend, no name can express what you are to us.

You might have led us as commander, and we might have followed and obeyed, but there still might have been wanting the divine force of unchanging love. We look up to the sunlight where you stand and say, ”We are coming.” When we shall be fourscore we shall still be calling to you, ”We are coming,” for you will still be beckoning us on as you climb still loftier heights.

Souls like yours can never rest in all the eternities of G.o.d.

Then a hush fell on the people and all waited for Miss Anthony. During the afternoon she had been sitting in a large armchair that was almost covered by her cloak of royal purple velvet which she had thrown over it, the white satin lining forming a lovely background for her finely-shaped head with its halo of silver hair. No one ever had seen her so moved as on this occasion when her memory must have carried her back to the days of bare halls, hostile audiences, ridicule, abuse, loneliness and ostracism by all but a very few staunch friends. ”Would she be able to speak?” many in the audience asked themselves, but the nearest friends waited calmly and without anxiety. They never had known her to fail. The result was thus described:

For a moment after gaining her feet, Miss Anthony stood battling with her emotions, but her indomitable courage conquered, and she smiled at the audience as it rose to greet her. She wore a gown of black d.u.c.h.esse satin with vest and revers of fine white lace in which were a few modest pinks, while she carried a large bouquet of violets. The moment she began talking the shadow pa.s.sed from her face and she stood erect, with head uplifted, full of her old-time vigor.

”How can you expect me to say a word?” she said. ”And yet I must.

I have reason to feel grateful, for I have received letters and telegrams from all over the world.[134] But the one that has touched me the most is a simple note which came from an old home of slavery, from a woman off of whose hands and feet the shackles fell nearly forty years ago. That letter, my friends, contained eighty cents--one penny for every year. It was all that this aged person had....

I am grateful for the many expressions which I have listened to this afternoon. I have heard the grandson of the great Frederick Dougla.s.s speak to me through his violin. I mention this because I remember so well Frederick Dougla.s.s when he rose at the convention where the first resolution ever presented for woman suffrage had his eloquence to help it....

Among the addresses from my younger co-workers, none has touched me so deeply as that from the one of darker hue.... Nothing speaks so strongly of freedom as the fact that the descendants of those who went through that great agony--which, thank Heaven, has pa.s.sed away--have now full opportunities and can help to celebrate my fifty years' work for liberty. I am glad of the gains the half-century has brought to the women of Anglo-Saxon birth. And I am glad above all else that the time is coming when all women alike shall have the fullest rights of citizens.h.i.+p.

I thank you all. If I have had one regret this afternoon, it is that some whom I have longed to have with me can not be here, especially Mrs. Stanton. I want to impress the fact that my work could have accomplished nothing if I had not been surrounded with earnest and capable co-workers. Then, good friends, I have had a home in which my father and mother, brothers and sisters, one and all, stood at my back and helped me to success. I always have had this co-operation and I have yet one sister left, who makes a home for me and aids my work in every possible way....

I have shed no tears on arriving at a birthday ten years beyond the age set for humanity. I have shed none over resigning the presidency of the a.s.sociation. I am glad to give it up. I do it cheerfully. And even so, when my time comes, I shall pa.s.s on further, and accept my new place and vocation just as cheerfully as I have touched this landmark.

I have pa.s.sed as the leader of the a.s.sociation of which I have been a member for so long, but I am not through working, for I shall work to the end of my time, and when I am called home, if there exist an immortal spirit, mine will still be with you, watching and inspiring you.

Miss Anthony's words and manner thrilled every heart and left the audience in a state of exaltation.

In the evening, the Corcoran Art Gallery, one of the world's beautiful buildings, was thrown open for the birthday reception. A colored orchestra, under the leaders.h.i.+p of Mr. Dougla.s.s, rendered a musical program. President Kauffman, of the Board of Trustees, presented the visitors to the guest of honor, and the birthday committee a.s.sisted in receiving. Although Miss Anthony had attended a business meeting in the morning, and been the central figure in the celebration of the afternoon lasting until 6 o'clock, she was so alert, happy and vivacious during the entire evening as to challenge the admiration of all. There was no picture in all that famous collection more attractive than this white-haired woman, robed in garnet velvet, relieved by antique fichu, collar and cuffs of old point lace. The city press said:

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