every tooth in her head as sound as ivory." This reminds me of a young
man who used to put my stoves up for the winter. He told me one day that
he thought of getting married. "Well," I said, "above all things get a
wife with a spine and sound teeth." Stove pipe in hand he turned to me
with a look of surprise, and said: "Do they ever come without spines?"

In July, 1881, sitting under the trees, Miss Anthony and I read and
discussed Wendell Phillips' magnificent speech before the Phi Beta Kappa
Society at Harvard College. This society had often talked of inviting
him, but was afraid of his radical utterances. At last, hoping that
years might have modified his opinions and somewhat softened his speech,
an invitation was given. The élite of Boston, the presidents and college
professors from far and near, were there. A great audience of the wise,
the learned, the distinguished in State and Church assembled. Such a
conservative audience, it was supposed, would surely hold this radical
in check. Alas! they were all doomed, for once, to hear the naked truth,
on every vital question of the day. Thinking this might be his only
opportunity to rouse some liberal thought in conservative minds, he
struck the keynote of every reform; defended labor strikes, the
Nihilists of Russia, prohibition, woman suffrage, and demanded
reformation in our prisons, courts of justice, and halls of legislation.
On the woman question, he said:

"Social science affirms that woman's place in society marks the
level of civilization. From its twilight in Greece, through the
Italian worship of the Virgin, the dreams of chivalry, the justice
of the civil law, and the equality of French society, we trace her
gradual recognition, while our common law, as Lord Brougham
confessed, was, with relation to women, the opprobrium of the age
of Christianity. For forty years earnest men and women, working