Mrs. Thomasson， daughter of Mrs. Lucas， gave several parties， receptions， and dinners，杝ome for ladies only，杦here an abundant opportunity was offered for a critical analysis of the idiosyncrasies of the superior sex， especially in their dealings with women. The patience of even such heroic souls as Lydia Becker and Caroline Biggs was almost exhausted with the tergiversations of Members of the House of Commons. Alas for the many fair promises broken， the hopes deferred， the votes fully relied on and counted， all missing in the hour of action！ One crack of Mr. Gladstone's whip put a hundred Liberal members to flight杕embers whom these noble women had spent years in educating. I never visited the House of Commons that I did not see Miss Becker and Miss Biggs trying to elucidate the fundamental principles of just government to some of the legislators. Verily their divine faith and patience merited more worthy action on the part of their alleged representatives！
Miss Henrietta Mü；ller gave a farewell reception to Miss Anthony and me on the eve of our departure for America， when we had the opportunity of meeting once more most of the pleasant acquaintances we had made in London. Although it was announced for the afternoon， we did， in fact， receive all day， as many could not come at the hour appointed. Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell took breakfast with us； Mrs. Fawcett， Mrs. Saville， and Miss Lord were with us at luncheon； Harriet Hosmer and Olive Logan soon after； Mrs. Peter Taylor later， and from three to six o'clock the parlors were crowded.
Returning from London I passed my birthday， November 12， 1883， in Basingstoke.
It was a sad day for us all， knowing that it was the last day with my loved ones before my departure for America. When I imprinted the farewell kiss on the soft cheek of my little granddaughter Nora in the cradle， she in the dawn and I in the sunset of life， I realized how widely the broad ocean would separate us. Miss Anthony met me at Alderly Edge， where we spent a few days with Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Bright. There we found their noble sisters， Mrs. McLaren and Mrs. Lucas， young Walter McLaren and his lovely bride， Eva Mü；ller， whom we had heard several times on the suffrage platform.
We rallied her on the step she had lately taken， notwithstanding her sister's able paper on the blessedness of a single life. While there， we visited Dean Stanley's birthplace， but on his death the light and joy went out.
The old church whose walls had once echoed to his voice， and the house where he had spent so many useful years， seemed sad and deserted. But the day was bright and warm， the scenery beautiful， cows and sheep were still grazing in the meadows， and the grass was as green as in June. This is England's chief charm，杋t is forever green，杙erhaps in compensation for the many cloudy days.
As our good friends Mrs. McLaren and Mrs. Lucas had determined to see us safely on board the Servia， they escorted us to Liverpool， where we met Mrs. Margaret Parker and Mrs. Scatcherd. Another reception was given us at the residence of Dr. Ewing Whittle. Several short speeches were made， and all present cheered the parting guests with words of hope and encouragement for the good cause. Here the wisdom of forming an international association was first considered. The proposition met with such favor from those present that a committee was appointed to correspond with the friends in different nations. Miss Anthony and I were placed on the committee， and while this project has not yet been fully carried out， the idea of the intellectual co-operation of women to secure equal rights and opportunities for their sex was the basis of the International Council of Women， which was held under the auspices of the National Woman Suffrage Association in Washington， D. C.， in March， 1888.
On the Atlantic for ten days we had many opportunities to review all we had seen and heard. Sitting on deck， hour after hour， how often I queried with myself as to the significance of the boon for which we were so earnestly struggling. In asking for a voice in the government under which we live， have we been pursuing a shadow for fifty years？ In seeking political power， are we abdicating that social throne where they tell us our influence is unbounded？ No， no！ the right of suffrage is no shadow， but a substantial entity that the citizen can seize and hold for his own protection and his country's welfare. A direct power over one's own person and property， an individual opinion to be counted， on all questions of public interest， are better than indirect influence， be that ever so far reaching.
Though influence， like the pure white light， is all-pervading， yet it is ofttimes obscured with passing clouds and nights of darkness. Like the sun's rays， it may be healthy， genial， inspiring， though sometimes too direct for comfort， too oblique for warmth， too scattered for any purpose.
But as the prism divides the rays， revealing the brilliant colors of the light， so does individual sovereignty reveal the beauty of representative government， and as the burning-glass shows the power of concentrating the rays， so does the combined power of the multitude reveal the beauty of united effort to carry a grand measure.
