You are a good judge of character. You have a full development of language devoted rather to accuracy and definiteness of meaning than volubility; and yet I doubt not you talk fast when excited--that belongs to your temperament. Your intellect is active and your mind more naturally runs in the channel of intellect than of feeling. It seeks an intellectual development rather than to be developed through the affections merely. You have fair veneration and spirituality but are nothing remarkable in these respects. Your chief religious elements are conscience and benevolence; these are your working religious organs, and a religion that does not gratify them is to you "as sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal."
Those who know Miss Anthony intimately will readily testify to the accuracy of this analysis. It seems remarkable in view of the fact that the examiner was in utter ignorance of the subject, and that, even if he had known her name, she had not, at the age of thirty-three, developed the characteristics which are now so familiar to the general public.
SUSAN B. ANTHONY. AT THE AGE OF 32, FROM A DAGUERREOTYPE.]
On this trip Miss Anthony was invited to spend an evening with Mr. and Mrs. Greeley and met for the first time Charles A. Dana, Alice and Phoebe Gary, Elizabeth F. Ellet, with a number of other literary men and women of New York. Mr. Greeley himself opened the door for them and sent them hunting through the house for a place to lay their wraps. After awhile Mrs. Greeley came down stairs with a baby in her arms. She had put her apron over its face and would not let the visitors look at it "because their magnetism might affect it unfavorably." During the evening she rang a bell and a man-servant came in. After a few words with her he retired and presently brought in a big dish of cake, one of cheese and a pile of plates, set them on the table and went out. There was a long pause and Mr. Greeley said, "Well, mother, shall I serve the cake?" "Yes, if you want to." So he went over to the table, took a piece of cake and one of cheese in his fingers, putting them on a plate and carrying to each, until all were served. The guests nibbled at them as best they could and after a long time the man brought in a pitcher of lemonade and some glasses and left the room. Mr. Greeley again asked, "Well, mother, shall I serve the lemonade?" "Yes, if you want to," she replied, so he filled the glasses, carried to each separately, and then gathered them up one at a time, instead of all together on a waiter. Both Mr. and Mrs. Greeley were thoroughly cordial and hospitable, both intellectually great, but utterly without social graces. Yet the conversation at their receptions was so brilliant that the most elegantly served refreshments would have been an unwelcome interruption.