Chapter 4

“You see Serepta has been embittered by the trials that politics, corrupt legislation have brought right onto her. She didn’t want nothin’ to do with ’em, but they come onto her onexpected and onbeknown, and she feels that she must do everything she can to alter matters. She wants to help make the laws that have such a overpowerin’ influence over her. She believes they can’t be much worse than they are now, and may be a little better.”

“Ah,” interrupted the Senator, “if Serepta wishes to change political affairs, let her influence her children, her boys, and they will carry her benign and noble influence forward into the centuries.”

“But the law took her boy, her little boy and girl, away from her. Through the influence of the Whiskey Ring, of which her husband wuz a shinin’ member, he got possession of her boy. And so the law has made it perfectly impossible for her to mould it indirectly through him, what Serepta duz she must do herself.”

“Ah! my dear woman. A sad thing for Serepta; I trust _you_ have no grievance of this kind, I trust that your estimable husband is, as it were, estimable.”

“Yes, Josiah Allen is a good man, as good as men can be. You know men or wimmen can’t be only jest about so good anyway. But he’s my choice, and he don’t drink a drop.”

“Pardon me, madam, but if you are happy in your married relations, and your husband is a temperate good man, why do you feel so upon this subject?”

“Why, good land! if you understood the nature of a woman you would know my love for him, my happiness, the content and safety I feel about him and our boy, makes me realize the sufferin’s of Serepta in havin’ her husband and boy lost to her; makes me realize the depth of a wife’s and mother’s agony when she sees the one she loves goin’ down, down so low she can’t reach him; makes me feel how she must yearn to help him in some safe sure way.

“High trees cast long shadows. The happier and more blessed a woman’s life is, the more duz she feel for them that are less blessed than she. Highest love goes lowest, like that love that left Heaven and descended to earth, and into it that He might lift up the lowly. The pityin’ words of Him who went about pleasin’ not Himself, hants me and inspires me; I’m sorry for Serepta, sorry for the hull wimmen race of the nation, and for the men too. Lots of ’em are good creeters, better than wimmen, some on ’em. They want to do right, but don’t exactly see the way to do it. In the old slavery times some of the masters wuz more to be pitied than the slaves. They could see the injustice, feel the wrong they wuz doin’, but old chains of Custom bound ’em, social customs and idees had hardened into habits of thought.

“They realized the size and heft of the evil, but didn’t know how to grapple with it, and throw it. So now, many men see the evils of this time, want to help, but don’t know the best way to lay holt of ’em. Life is a curious conundrum anyway, and hard to guess. But we can try to git the right answer to it as fur as we can. Serepta feels that one of the answers to the conundrum is in gittin’ her rights. I myself have got all the rights I need or want, as fur as my own happiness is concerned. My home is my castle (a story and a half wooden one, but dear). My towers elevate me, the companionship of my friends give social happiness, our children are prosperous and happy. We have property enough for all the comforts of life. And above all other things my Josiah is my love and my theme.”

“Ah, yes!” sez he, “love is a woman’s empire, and in that she should find her full content—her entire happiness and thought. A womanly woman will not look outside that lovely and safe and beautious empire.”

Sez I firmly, “If she hain’t a idiot she can’t help it. Love is the most beautiful thing on earth, the most holy and satisfyin’. But I do not ask you as a politician, but as a human bein’, which would you like best, the love of a strong, earnest tender nature, for in man or woman ‘the strongest are the tenderest, the loving are the daring,’ which would you like best, the love and respect of such a nature full of wit, of tenderness, of infinite variety, or the love of a fool?

“A fool’s love is wearin’, it is insipid at best, and it turns to vinegar. Why, sweetened water must turn to vinegar, it is its nater. And if a woman is bright and true-hearted, she can’t help seein’ through an injustice. She may be happy in her own home. Domestic affection, social enjoyments, the delights of a cultured home and society, and the companionship of the man she loves and who loves her, will, if she is a true woman, satisfy her own personal needs and desires, and she would far ruther for her own selfish happiness rest quietly in that love, that most blessed home.

“But the bright quick intellect that delights you can’t help seein’ an injustice, can’t help seein’ through shams of all kinds, sham sentiment, sham compliments, sham justice. The tender lovin’ nature that blesses your life can’t help feelin’ pity for them less blessed than herself. She looks down through the love-guarded lattice of her home from which your care would fain bar out all sights of woe and squaler, she looks down and sees the weary toilers below, the hopeless, the wretched. She sees the steep hills they have to climb, carryin’ their crosses, she sees ’em go down into the mire, dragged there by the love that should lift ’em up. She would not be the woman you love if she could restrain her hand from liftin’ up the fallen, wipin’ tears from weepin’ eyes, speakin’ brave words for them that can’t speak for themselves. The very strength of her affection that would hold you up if you were in trouble or disgrace yearns to help all sorrowin’ hearts.

“Down in your heart you can’t help admirin’ her for this, we can’t help respectin’ the one that advocates the right, the true, even if they are our conquerors. Wimmen hain’t angels; now to be candid, you know they hain’t. They hain’t any better than men. Men are considerable likely; and it seems curious to me that they should act so in this one thing. For men ort to be more honest and open than wimmen. They hain’t had to cajole and wheedle and use little trickeries and deceits and indirect ways as wimmen have. Why, cramp a tree limb and see if it will grow as straight and vigorous as it would in full freedom and sunshine.

“Men ort to be nobler than women, sincerer, braver. And they ort to be ashamed of this one trick of theirn, for they know they hain’t honest in it, they hain’t generous. Give wimmen two or three generations of moral and legal freedom and see if men will laugh at ’em for their little deceits and affectations. No, men will be gentler, and wimmen nobler, and they will both come nearer bein’ angels, though most probable they won’t be any too good then, I hain’t a mite afraid of it.”

VI. “CONCERNING MOTH-MILLERS AND MINNY FISH”

The Senator kinder sithed, and that sithe sort o’ brought me down onto my feet agin as it were, and a sense of my duty, and I spoke out agin:

“Can you and will you do Serepta’s errents?”

He evaded a direct answer by sayin’, “As you alluded to the little indirect ways of women, dearest madam, you will pardon me for saying that it is my belief that the soft gentle brains of females are unfitted for the deep hard problems men have to grapple with. They are too doll-like, too angelically and sweetly frivolous.”

“No doubt,” sez I, “some wimmen are frivolous and some men foolish, for as Mrs. Poyser said, ‘God made women to match the men,’ but these few hadn’t ort to disfranchise the hull race of men and wimmen. And as to soft brains, Maria Mitchell discovered planets hid from masculine eyes from the beginnin’ of time, and do you think that wimmen can’t see the black spots on the body politic, that darkens the life of her and her children?

“Madame Curie discovered the light that looks through solid wood and iron, and you think wimmen can’t see through unjust laws and practices, the rampant evils of to-day, and see what is on the other side, see a remedy for ’em. Florence Nightingale could mother and help cure an army, and why hain’t men willin’ to let wimmen help cure a sick legislation, kinder mother it, and encourage it to do better? She might much better be doin’ that, than playin’ bridge-whist, or rastlin’ with hobble skirts, and it wouldn’t devour any more time.”

He sot demute for a few minutes and then he sez, “While on the subject of women’s achievements, dearest madam, allow me to ask you, if they have reached the importance you claim for them, why is it that so few women are made immortal by bein’ represented in the Hall of Fame? And why are the four or five females represented there put away by themselves in a remote unadorned corner with no roof to protect them from the rough winds and storms that beat upon them?”

Sez I, “That’s a good illustration of what I’ve been sayin’. It wuz owin’ to a woman’s gift that America has a Hall of Fame, and it would seem that common courtesy would give wimmen an equally desirable place amongst the Immortals. Do you spoze that if women formed half the committee of selection—which they should since it wuz a woman’s gift that made such a place possible—do you spoze that if she had an equal voice with men, the names of noble wimmen would be tucked away in a remote unroofed corner?

“Edgar Allan Poe’s genius wuz worthy a place among the Immortals, no doubt; his poems and stories excite wonder and admiration. But do they move the soul like Mrs. Stowe’s immortal story that thrilled the world and helped free a race?—yes, two races—for the curse of slavery held the white race in bondage, too. Yet she and her three or four woman companions face the stormy winds in an out-of-the-way corner, while Poe occupies his honorable sightly place among his fifty or more male companions.

“Wimmen have always been admonished to not strive for right and justice but to lean on men’s generosity and chivalry. Here wuz a place where that chivalry would have shone, but it didn’t seem to materialize, and if wimmen had leaned on it, it would have proved a weak staff, indeed.

“Such things as this are constantly occurring and show plain that wimmen needs the ballot to protect her from all sorts of wrongs and indignities. Men take wimmen’s money, as they did here, and use it to uplift themselves, and lower her, like taxin’ her heavily and often unjustly and usin’ this money to help forward unjust laws which she abominates. And so it goes on, and will, until women are men’s equals legally and politically.”

“Ahem—you present things in a new light. I never looked at this matter with your eyes.”

“No, you looked at ’em through a man’s eyes; such things are so customary that men do ’em without thinkin’, from habit and custom, like hushin’ up children’s talk, when they interrupt grown-ups.”

Agin he sot demute for a short space, and then said, “I feel that natural human instinct is aginst the change. In savage races that knew nothin’ of civilization, male force and strength always ruled.”

“Why,” sez I, “history tells us of savage races where wimmen always rule, though I don’t think they ort to—ability and goodness ort to rule.”

“Nature is aginst it,” sez he.

But I sez firmly, “Bees and lots of other insects and animals always have a female for queen and ruler. They rule blindly and entirely, right on through the centuries, but we are enlightened and should not encourage it. In my opinion the male bee has just as good a right to be monarch as his female pardner has, if he is as good and knows as much. I never believed in the female workin’ ones killin’ off the male drones to save winterin’ ’em; they might give ’em some light chores to do round the hive to pay for their board. I love justice and that would be _my_ way.”

Agin he sithed. “Modern history don’t seem to favor the scheme—” But his axent wuz as weak as a cat and his boughten smile seemed crackin’ and wearin’ out; he knowed better.

Sez I, “We won’t argy long on that p’int, for I might overwhelm you if I approved of overwhelmin’, but, will merely ask you to cast one eye on England. Was the rain of Victoria the Good less peaceful and prosperous than that of the male rulers who preceded her? And you can then throw your other eye over to Holland: is their sweet queen less worthy and beloved to-day than other European monarchs? And is her throne more shaky and tottlin’ than theirn?”

He didn’t try to dispute me and bowed his head on his breast in a almost meachin’ way. He knowed he wuz beat on every side, and almost to the end of his chain of rusty, broken old arguments. But anon he brightened up agin and sez, ketchin’ holt of the last shackly link of his argument:

“You seem to place a great deal of dependence on the Bible. The Bible is aginst the idee. The Bible teaches man’s supremacy, man’s absolute power and might and authority.”

“Why, how you talk,” sez I. “In the very first chapter the Bible tells how man wuz turned right round by a woman, tells how she not only turned man round to do as she wanted him to, but turned the hull world over.

“That hain’t nothin’ I approve of; I don’t speak of it because I like the idee. That wuzn’t done in a open honorable manner as things should be done. No, Eve ruled by indirect influence, the gently influencing men way, that politicians are so fond of. And she brought ruin and destruction onto the hull world by it.

“A few years later when men and wimmen grew wiser, when we hear of wimmen rulin’ Israel openly and honestly, like Miriam, Deborah and other likely old four mothers, things went on better. They didn’t act meachin’ and tempt, and act indirect.”

He sithed powerful and sot round oneasy in his chair. And sez he, “I thought wimmen wuz taught by the Bible to serve and love their homes.”

“So they be. And every true woman loves to serve. Home is my supreme happiness and delight, and my best happiness is found in servin’ them I love. But I must tell the truth, in the house or outdoors.”

Sez he faintly, “The Old Testament may teach that women have some strength and power. But in the New Testament in every great undertaken’ and plan men have been chosen by God to carry them through.”

“Why-ee!” sez I, “how you talk! Have you ever read the Bible?”

He said evasively, his grandmother owned one, and he had seen it in early youth. And then he went on in a sort of apologizin’ way. He had always meant to read it, but he had entered political life at an early age where the Bible wuzn’t popular, and he believed that he had never read further than the Epistles of Gulliver to the Liliputians.

Sez I, “That hain’t Bible, there hain’t no Gulliver in it, and you mean Galatians.”

Well, he said, that might be it, it wuz some man he knew, and he had always heard and believed that man wuz the only worker that God had chosen.

“Why,” sez I, “the one great theme of the New Testament—the salvation of the world through the birth of Christ—no man had anything to do with. Our divine Lord wuz born of God and Woman. Heavenly plan of redemption for fallen humanity. God Himself called woman into that work, the divine work of saving a world, and why shouldn’t she continue in it? God called her. Mary had no dream of publicity, no desire of a world’s work of suffering and renunciation. The soft air of Galilee wropped her about in its sweet content, as she dreamed her quiet dreams in maiden peace—dreamed, perhaps, of domestic love and happiness.

“From that sweetest silence, the restful peace of happy innocent girlhood, God called her to her divine work of helpin’ redeem a world from sin. And did not this woman’s love and willin’ obedience, and sufferin’ set her apart, baptize her for this work of liftin’ up the fallen, helpin’ the weak?

“Is it not a part of woman’s life that she gave at the birth and crucifixion? Her faith, her hope, her sufferin’, her glow of divine pity and joyful martyrdom. These, mingled with the divine, the pure heavenly, have they not for nineteen hundred years been blessin’ the world? The God in Christ would awe us too much; we would shield our eyes from the too blindin’ glory of the pure God-like. But the tender Christ who wept over a sinful city, and the grave of His friend, who stopped dyin’ on the cross to comfort His mother’s heart, provide for her future—it is this womanly element in our Lord’s nature that makes us dare to approach Him, dare to kneel at His feet?

“And since woman wuz so blessed as to be counted worthy to be co-worker with God in the beginnin’ of the world’s redemption; since He called her from the quiet obscurity of womanly rest and peace into the blessed martyrdom of renunciation and toil and sufferin’, all to help a world that cared nothin’ for her, that cried out shame upon her.

“He will help her carry on the work of helpin’ a sinful world. He will protect her in it, she cannot be harmed or hindered, for the cause she loves of helpin’ men and wimmen, is God’s cause too, and God will take care of His own. Herods full of greed and frightened selfishness may try to break her heart by efforts to kill the child she loves, but she will hold it so clost to her bosom he can’t destroy it; and the light of the Divine will go before her, showin’ the way through the desert and wilderness mebby, but she shall bear it into safety.”

“You spoke of Herod,” sez he dreamily, “the name sounds familiar to me. Was not Mr. Herod once in the United States Senate?”

“Not that one,” sez I. “He died some time ago, but I guess he has relatives there now, judgin’ from laws made there. You ask who Herod wuz, and as it all seems a new story to you, I will tell you. When the Saviour of the world wuz born in Bethlehem, and a woman wuz tryin’ to save His life, a man by the name of Herod wuz tryin’ his best out of selfishness and greed to murder Him.”

“Ah! that was not right in Herod.”

“No, it hain’t been called so. And what wuzn’t right in him hain’t right in his relations who are tryin’ to do the same thing to-day. Sellin’ for money the right to destroy the child the mother carries on her heart. Surroundin’ him with temptations so murderous, yet so enticin’ to youthful spirits, that the mother feels that as the laws are now, the grave is the only place of safety that God Himself can find for her boy. But because Herod wuz so mean it hain’t no sign that all men are mean. Joseph wuz as likely as he could be.”

“Joseph?” sez he pensively. “Do you allude to our venerable speaker, Joe Cannon?”

“No,” sez I. “I’m talkin’ Bible—I’m talkin’ about Joseph; jest plain Joseph.”

“Ah! I see. I am not fully familiar with that work. Being so engrossed in politics, and political literature, I don’t git any time to devote to less important publications.”

Sez I candidly, “I knew you hadn’t read it the minute you mentioned the book of Liliputians. But as I wuz sayin’, Joseph wuz a likely man. He had the strength to lead the way, overcome obstacles, keep dangers from Mary, protect her tenderer form with the mantilly of his generous devotion.

“_But she carried the Child on her bosom_; ponderin’ high things in her heart that Joseph never dreamed of. That is what is wanted now, and in the future. The man and the woman walkin’ side by side. He a little ahead, mebby, to keep off dangers by his greater strength and courage. She a-carryin’ the infant Christ of Love, bearin’ the baby Peace in her bosom, carryin’ it into safety from them that seek to destroy it.

“And as I said before, if God called woman into this work, He will enable her to carry it through. He will protect her from her own weaknesses, and the misapprehensions and hard judgments and injustices of a gain-sayin’ world.

“Yes, the star of hope is risin’ in the sky brighter and brighter, and wise men are even now comin’ to the mother of the new Redeemer, led by the star.”

He sot demute. Silence rained for some time; and finally I spoke out solemnly through the rain:

“Will you do Serepta’s errents? Will you give her her rights? And will you break the Whiskey Ring?”

He said he would love to do the errents, I had convinced him that it would be just and right to do ’em, but the Constitution of the United States stood up firm aginst ’em. As the laws of the United States wuz, he could not make any move toward doin’ either of the errents.

Sez I, “Can’t the laws be changed?”

“Be changed? Change the laws of the United States? Tamper with the glorious Constitution that our fore-fathers left us—an immortal sacred legacy.”

He jumped up on his feet and his second-hand smile fell off. He kinder shook as if he wuz skairt most to death and tremblin’ with horrow. He did it to skair me, I knew, but I knowed I meant well towards the Constitution and our old forefathers; and my principles stiddied me and held me firm and serene. And when he asked me agin in tones full of awe and horrow:

“Can it be that I heard my ear aright? Or did you speak of changin’ the unalterable laws of the United States—tampering with the Constitution?”

“Yes, that is what I said. Hain’t they never been changed?”

He dropped that skairful look and put on a firm judicial one. He see that he could not skair me to death; an’ sez he, “Oh, yes, they’ve been changed in cases of necessity.”

Sez I, “For instance durin’ the Oncivil war it wuz changed to make Northern men cheap bloodhounds and hunters.”

“Yes,” he said, “it seemed to be a case of necessity and economy.”

“I know it,” sez I; “men wuz cheaper than any other breed of bloodhounds the slave-holders could employ to hunt men and wimmen with, and more faithful.”

“Yes,” he said, “it wuz a case of clear economy.”

And sez I: “The laws have been changed to benefit liquor dealers.”

“Well, yes,” he said, “it had been changed to enable whiskey dealers to utilize the surplus liquor they import.”

Sez he, gittin’ kinder animated, for he wuz on a congenial and familar theme, “Nobody, the best calculators in drunkards, can exactly calculate how much whiskey will be drunk in a year; and so, ruther than have the whiskey dealers suffer loss, the law had to be changed. And then,” sez he, growin’ still more candid in his excitement, “we are makin’ a powerful effort to change the laws now so as to take the tax off of whiskey, so it can be sold cheaper, and obtained in greater quantities by the masses. Any such great laws would justify a change in the Constitution and the laws; but for any frivolous cause, any trivial cause, madam, we male custodians of the sacred Constitution stand as walls of iron before it, guarding it from any shadow of change. Faithful we will be, faithful unto death.”

Sez I, “As it has been changed, it can be agin. And you jest said I had convinced you that Serepta’s errents wuz errents of truth and justice, and you would love to do ’em.”

“Well, yes, yes—I would love to—as it were—. But, my dear madam, much as I would like to oblige you, I have not the time to devote to the cause of Right and Justice. I don’t think you realize the constant pressure of hard work that is ageing us and wearing us out, before our day.

“As I said, we have to watch the liquor interest constantly to see that the liquor dealers suffer no loss—we have to do that, of course.”

And he continued dreamily, as if losin’ sight of me and talkin’ to himself: “The wealthy Corporations and Trusts, we have to condemn them loudly to please the common people, and help ’em secretly to please ourselves, or our richest perkisits are lost. The Canal Ring, the Indian Agency, the Land Grabbers, the political bosses. In fact, we are surrounded by a host of bandits that we have to appease and profit by; oh, how these matters wear into the gray matter of our brains!”

“Gray matter!” sez I, with my nose uplifted to its extremest height, “I should call it black matter!”