In answering all the attacks， we were compelled to study canon and civil law， constitutions， Bibles， science， philosophy， and history， sacred and profane. Now my mind， as well as my hands， was fully occupied， and instead of mourning， as I had done， over what I had lost in leaving Boston， I tried in every way to make the most of life in Seneca Falls. Seeing that elaborate refreshments prevented many social gatherings， I often gave an evening entertainment without any. I told the young people， whenever they wanted a little dance or a merry time， to make our house their rallying point， and I would light up and give them a glass of water and some cake. In that way we had many pleasant informal gatherings. Then， in imitation of Margaret Fuller's Conversationals， we started one which lasted several years. We selected a subject each week on which we all read and thought； each， in turn， preparing an essay ten minutes in length.
These were held， at different homes， Saturday of each week. On coming together we chose a presiding officer for the evening， who called the meeting to order， and introduced the essayist. That finished， he asked each member， in turn， what he or she had read or thought on the subject， and if any had criticisms to make on the essay. Everyone was expected to contribute something. Much information was thus gained， and many spicy discussions followed. All the ladies， as well as the gentlemen， presided in turn， and so became familiar with parliamentary rules. The evening ended with music， dancing， and a general chat. In this way we read and thought over a wide range of subjects and brought together the best minds in the community.
Many young men and women who did not belong to what was considered the first circle，杅or in every little country village there is always a small clique that constitutes the aristocracy，杊ad the advantages of a social life otherwise denied them. I think that all who took part in this Conversation Club would testify to its many good influences.
I had three quite intimate young friends in the village who spent much of their spare time with me， and who added much to my happiness： Frances Hoskins， who was principal of the girls' department in the academy， with whom I discussed politics and religion； Mary Bascom， a good talker on the topics of the day， and Mary Crowninshield， who played well on the piano.
As I was very fond of music， Mary's coming was always hailed with delight.
Her mother， too， was a dear friend of mine， a woman of rare intelligence， refinement， and conversational talent. She was a Schuyler， and belonged to the Dutch aristocracy in Albany. She died suddenly， after a short illness.
I was with her in the last hours and held her hand until the gradually fading spark of life went out. Her son is Captain A. S. Crowninshield of our Navy.
My nearest neighbors were a very agreeable， intelligent family of sons and daughters. But I always felt that the men of that household were given to domineering. As the mother was very amiable and self-sacrificing， the daughters found it difficult to rebel. One summer， after general house-cleaning， when fresh paint and paper had made even the kitchen look too dainty for the summer invasion of flies， the queens of the household decided to move the sombre cookstove into a spacious woodhouse， where it maintained its dignity one week， in the absence of the head of the home. The mother and daughters were delighted with the change， and wondered why they had not made it before during the summer months. But their pleasure was shortlived.
Father and sons rose early the first morning after his return and moved the stove back to its old place. When the wife and daughters came down to get their breakfast (for they did all their own work) they were filled with grief and disappointment. The breakfast was eaten in silence， the women humbled with a sense of their helplessness， and the men gratified with a sense of their power. These men would probably all have said "home is woman's sphere，" though they took the liberty of regulating everything in her sphere. MRS. STANTON AND SON， 1854.
