In October Hattie went to London， to attend a meeting to form a Woman's Liberal Federation. Mrs. Gladstone presided. The speeches made were simply absurd， asking women to organize themselves to help the Liberal party， which had steadily denied to them the political rights they had demanded for twenty years. Professor Stuart capped the climax of insult when he urged as "one great advantage in getting women to canvass for the Liberal party was that they would give their services free." The Liberals saw what enthusiasm the Primrose Dames had roused for the Tory party， really carrying the election， and they determined to utilize a similar force in their ranks.
But the whole movement was an insult to women.
The one absorbing interest， then， was the Queen's Jubilee. Ladies formed societies to collect funds to place at the disposal of the Queen. Every little village was divided into districts， and different ladies took the rounds， begging pennies at every door of servants and the laboring masses， and pounds of the wealthy people. One of them paid us a visit. She asked the maid who opened the door to see the rest of the servants， and she begged a penny of each of them. She then asked to see the mistress. My daughter descended； but， instead of a pound， she gave her a lecture on the Queen's avarice. When the fund was started the people supposed the Queen was to return it all to the people in liberal endowments of charitable institutions， but her Majesty proposed to build a monument to Prince Albert， although he already had one in London. "The Queen，" said my daughter， "should celebrate her Jubilee by giving good gifts to her subjects， and not by filching from the poor their pennies. To give half her worldly possessions to her impoverished people， to give Home Rule to Ireland， or to make her public schools free， would be deeds worthy her Jubilee； but to take another cent from those who are hopelessly poor is a sin against suffering humanity." The young woman realized the situation and said： "I shall go no farther. I wish I could return every penny I have taken from the needy."
The most fitting monuments this nation can build are schoolhouses and homes for those who do the work of the world. It is no answer to say that they are accustomed to rags and hunger. In this world of plenty every human being has a right to food， clothes， decent shelter， and the rudiments of education. "Something is rotten in the state of Denmark" when one-tenth of the human family， booted and spurred， ride the masses to destruction.
I detest the words "royalty " and "nobility，" and all the ideas and institutions based on their recognition. In April the great meeting in Hyde Park occurred朼 meeting of protest against the Irish Coercion Bill. It was encouraging to see that there is a democratic as well as an aristocratic England. The London journals gave very different accounts of the meeting. The Tories said it was a mob of inconsequential cranks. Reason teaches us， however， that you cannot get up a large， enthusiastic meeting unless there is some question pending that touches the heart of the people. Those who say that Ireland has no grievances are ignorant alike of human nature and the facts of history.
On April 14 I went to Paris， my daughter escorting me to Dover， and my son meeting me at Calais. It was a bright， pleasant day， and I sat on deck and enjoyed the trip， though many of my fellow passengers were pale and limp. Whirling to Paris in an easy car， through the beautiful wheatfields and vineyards， I thought of the old lumbering diligence， in which we went up to Paris at a snail's pace forty years before. I remained in Paris until October， and never enjoyed six months more thoroughly. One of my chief pleasures was ****** the acquaintance of my fourth son， Theodore. I had seen but little of him since he was sixteen years old， as he then spent five years at Cornell University， and as many more in Germany and France.
He had already published two works， "The Life of Thiers，" and "The Woman Question in Europe." To have a son interested in the question to which I have devoted my life， is a source of intense satisfaction. To say that I have realized in him all I could desire， is the highest praise a fond mother can give.
My first experience in an apartment， living on an even plane， no running and down stairs， was as pleasant as it was surprising. I had no idea of the comfort and convenience of this method of keeping house. Our apartment in Paris consisted of drawing room， dining room， library， a good-sized hall， in which stood a large American stove， five bedrooms， bathroom， and kitchen， and a balcony fifty-two feet long and four feet wide. The first few days it made me dizzy to look down from this balcony to the street below. I was afraid the whole structure would give way， it appeared so light and airy， hanging midway between earth and heaven. But my confidence in its steadfastness and integrity grew day by day， and it became my favorite resort， commanding， as it did， a magnificent view of the whole city and distant surroundings.
There were so many Americans in town， and French reformers to be seen， that I gave Wednesday afternoon receptions during my whole visit. To one of our "at homes " came Mlle. Maria Deraismes， the only female Free Mason in France， and the best woman orator in the country； her sister， Mme. Fé；resse-Deraismes， who takes part in all woman movements； M. Lé；on Richer， then actively advocating the civil and political rights of women through the columns of his vigorous journal； Mme. Griess Traut， who makes a specialty of Peace work； Mme. Isabelle Bogelot， who afterward attended the Washington Council of 1888， and who is a leader in charity work； the late Mme. Emilie de Morsier， who afterward was the soul of the International Congress of 1889， at Paris； Mme. Pauline Kergomard， the first woman to be made a member of the Superior Council of public Instruction in France， and Mme. Henri Gré；ville， the novelist.
