IN the month of June， 1871， Miss Anthony and I went to California， holding suffrage meetings in many of the chief cities from New York to San Francisco， where we arrived about the middle of July， in time to experience the dry， dusty season.
We tarried， on the way， one week in Salt Lake City. It was at the time of the Godby secession， when several hundred Mormons abjured that portion of the faith of their fathers which authorized polygamy. A decision had just been rendered by the United States Supreme Court declaring the first wife and her children the only legal heirs. Whether this decision hastened the secession I do not know； however， it gave us the advantage of hearing all the arguments for and against the system. Those who were opposed to it said it made slaves of men. To support four wives and twenty children was a severe strain on any husband. The women who believed in polygamy had much to say in its favor， especially in regard to the sacredness of motherhood during the period of pregnancy and lactation； a lesson of respect for that period being religiously taught all Mormons.
We were very thankful for the privilege granted us of speaking to the women alone in the smaller Tabernacle. Our meeting opened at two o'clock and lasted until seven， giving us five hours of uninterrupted conversation. Judge McKeon had informed me of the recent decisions and the legal aspects of the questions， which he urged me to present to them fully and frankly， as no one had had such an opportunity before to speak to Mormon women alone. So I made the most of my privilege. I gave a brief history of the marriage institution in all times and countries， of the matriarchate， when the mother was the head of the family and owned the property and children； of the patriarchate， when man reigned supreme and woman was enslaved； of polyandry， polygamy， monogamy， and prostitution.
We had a full and free discussion of every phase of the question， and we all agreed that we were still far from having reached the ideal position for woman in marriage， however satisfied man might be with his various experiments. Though the Mormon women， like all others， stoutly defend their own religion， yet they are no more satisfied than any other sect. All women are dissatisfied with their position as inferiors， and their dissatisfaction increases in exact ratio with their intelligence and development.
After this convocation the doors of the Tabernacle were closed to our ministrations， as we thought they would be， but we had crowded an immense amount of science， philosophy， history， and general reflections into the five hours of such free talk as those women had never heard before. As the seceders had just built a new hall， we held meetings there every day， discussing all the vital issues of the hour； the Mormon men and women taking an active part.
We attended the Fourth of July celebration， and saw the immense Tabernacle filled to its utmost capacity. The various States of the Union were represented by young girls， gayly dressed， carrying beautiful flags and banners. When that immense multitude joined in our national songs， and the deep-toned organ filled the vast dome the music was very impressive， and the spirit of patriotism manifested throughout was deep and sincere.
As I stood among these simple people， so earnest in making their experiment in religion and social life， and remembered all the persecutions they had suffered and all they had accomplished in that desolate， far-off region， where they had， indeed， made "the wilderness blossom like the rose，" I appreciated， as never before， the danger of intermeddling with the religious ideas of any people. Their faith finds abundant authority in the Bible， in the example of God's chosen people. When learned ecclesiastics teach the people that they can safely take that book as the guide of their lives， they must expect them to follow the letter and the specific teachings that lie on the surface. The ordinary mind does not generalize nor see that the same principles of conduct will not do for all periods and latitudes.
When women understand that governments and religions are human inventions； that Bibles， prayerbooks， catechisms， and encyclical letters are all emanations from the brain of man， they will no longer be oppressed by the injunctions that come to them with the divine authority of "Thus saith the Lord."
That thoroughly democratic gathering in the Tabernacle impressed me more than any other Fourth of July celebration I ever attended. As most of the Mormon families keep no servants， mothers must take their children wherever they go杢o churches， theatres， concerts， and military reviews杄verywhere and anywhere. Hence the low， pensive wail of the individual baby， combining in large numbers， becomes a deep monotone， like the waves of the sea， a sort of violoncello accompaniment to all their holiday performances. It was rather trying to me at first to have my glowing periods punctuated with a rhythmic wail from all sides of the hall； but as soon as I saw that it did not distract my hearers， I simply raised my voice， and， with a little added vehemence， fairly rivaled the babies. Commenting on this trial， to one of the theatrical performers， he replied： "It is bad enough for you， but alas！ imagine me in a tender death scene， when the most profound stillness is indispensible， having my last gasp， my farewell message to loved ones， accentuated with the joyful crowings or impatient complainings of fifty babies." I noticed in the Tabernacle that the miseries of the infantile host were in a measure mitigated by constant draughts of cold water， borne around in buckets by four old men.
The question of the most profound interest to us at that time， in the Mormon experiment， was the exercise of the suffrage by women. Emeline B.
Wells， wife of the Mayor of the city， writing to a Washington convention， in 1894， said of the many complications growing out of various bills before Congress to rob women of this right：
