Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 47, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 July 1884 — WOMEN'S RIGHTS. [ARTICLE]

WOMEN'S RIGHTS.

It was half past twelve before the dozen friends who had been dining with me left the house. The evening began with argument, ■which by degrees, was relieved by light yet bitter banter. Some of the ladies began to make use of those most expensive words, “indeed,” “really,” and “I must say !”or“if you will allow me to say!” etc. And 1 am ashamed to Bay that I myself-— the host—became so animated as to desire to prolong the discussion instead of putting an end to it before anything extreme should be said on either side. My guests were my nearest relations —nephews, nieces, and young cousins. One niece was the wife of a rising young Member of Parliament, a man supposed to have a prosperous future before him. Another was one *f the sweetest young girls I ever-met. One cousin was a Sister of Mercyf who had no home ties left and dedicated herself to God’s poor. And the subject over which we grew so eager was the “Rights of Women. ” To my surprise the wife of the M. P., a more than ordinary agreeable, clever young woman, took the most decided line against her sisters. The Sister of Mercy only sat and listened, and often laughed heartily. The youngest and the weakest, a pale little creature who spent all her time in nursing her children and arranging her fair tangled fringe, was our bitterest enemy, and loud were her compliments against the bitter subject of women; though 1 happen to know that very morning she had gone in tears to her husband to entreat his interference with a refractory nursery maid. But lam old enough now never to be surprised at any thing. I was betrayed into usipg strong expressions myself. I remember asserting that Solomon’s virtuous woman contented herself with giving him a first-rate dinner, and keeping his garments in order, and the children altogether out of sight. ----- Th* argument grew-hotter. Electoral disabilities had to be exhausted, then the vexed question of university honors, medicine and woman’s degrees. Finally I almost shouted: “In my opinion woman’s mission is submission!” After that they left me. I felt too much excited to go to bed at once, so I resorted to the calming influenceofa cigar. My wife died twenty-five years ago. Our married life lasted five years, and when she died I gave up pshaw! It was not that that made me give up the Militia, and Parliament, and Quarter Sessions, and the old schemes for paying off the mortgages and all that to go abroad. The old church is not restored yet. However, this is nothing to the purpose. lam meditating an essay on woman in general, not ■on individuals, and if the world lasts another thousand years, it would never produce again a woman such as she was. The cigar is very soothing. I will* only make a few notes on the back of an envelope —heads of subjects with their consequences arranged like a pedigree under them. I believe with the creation of Eve— a most important point Here my pencil rolled away from me and 1 think I must have fallen asleep, and yet I should be sorry to swear in a court of justice that all which followed was only a dream. My study haw recently added to the house, and the shadows flickered strangely over the wide white plastered wall that faced my great easy chair as I sat by the fire. It became suddenly quite dark, then a circle of light danced into the center of the white wall, and grew larger and brighter, till I saw as if in broad daylight a scene which might have been reflected from a magic lantern. Ring-a-ring-a-ring! Oh! that indescribable sense of hurry—who that has ■ever experienced it does not recognize it? It must be the division bell of the House of Commons. There go the Honorable Members running fast. The scene represents the exterior, two policemen stand at one of the doors. Two or three members hop stiffly out of the way of the Honorable Members. Ring-a-ring-a,-rjng. It has stopped row. Thera is a pause, the pigeons peck about and plume themselves, and the policemen pursue their endless walk. A brougham trots up at a round pace, an anxious face looks out watching; finally a voice calls, to the lootman : “John! Sir Joseph is there." A tall care-worn member of the opposition jumps into the carriage. “Round St. James’ Park," he calls out, and away they go. A lady faked her husband’s hand eagerly and speaks: “H< re are the notes, Joseph. Now, whatever you do, do not forget 65,000, TOO and 66.” j • “You are sure.”

“Of course, 65,000, 700 and 66. And it was the Times and Hot the Daily News, remember that, and the date was April 12th. You had put down the 11th. I “And was I accurate about Peel ?” “Yes, I have found his very words. They are just what you want, only I think I would make the other two points first.” “I meant them for a peroration.” “Yes, but don’t you think this one that I have found will do better? See quotation. It will enable you to fulfill the ungrateful duty of annihilating one of our own side withimore grace: "‘You urge me as a judge; but I had rath r You would have bid me argue like a tai hr. Oh! had it bena si rang'r, not my child. To smooth his f..ult I should live bem more mi d. A part al slander sought I to avoid. And in the sentence my own rife xL stroyed. Alas! I looked when some f yon slfoUld say I was too strict t») make mine own away. But you grant I ve to my unwilling tongue Against mv will to do mysel. tills wrong.’”" “It will do.” “Did you notice an inaccuracy in B’s speech last night? Ho said that Lord Palmerston was distinctly of his opinion. Here is Palmerston’s speech on. the same subject. Read it; dear - ” “Bravo, Jennie! you have surpassed yourself to-day. Now we must turn.” “Already! Oh, Jos, I wish I could go to the gallery”! “You could not stay late enough to hear me.” Then in an eager whisper, she said, as the brogham pulled up, “Good-bye, God speed you!” That picture faded away as the little. brogham trotted out of it. The next showed a London drum. . The hostess standing, at the head of the stairs receiving her guests ; a lady, exquisitely dressed; sitting on the sofa, with two or three men around, and~a-buzz of political murmurs. “Best speech of the season! outdid himself; never thought Pelham would come out like this!” “Well, Lady Pelham, I congratulate you heartily. We all look upon Sir Joseph as the rising hope of the party.” “You should have heard the roars of laughter with which’ his Shakspearian quotation was received. Harvard, you can tell Lady Pelham what it was. I do not remember the words, but he took so fatherly a tone to poor W., that from a man of his age the effect was inimitable.” « Two members were talking together in the ante-room. “Best speech of the session! I never believed there was so much in that lazy fellow Pelham.” “It is all his wife’s doing. She has brought out his dormant powers.’— TB *- ♦- ♦ * The shadows are passing over the wall again. I bend forward eagerly. What is it? What a blurred looking picture! It is raining fast, pouring, with the-hissing sound of rain on the pavement. It is so dark that I can only just distinguish a narrow alley, such a den of pestilence as Shoreditch can best show. On the right stands a public house. I see faint lights through the chinks of its dirt-encrusted shutters, and hear loud tones and evil words within. A man reels to the door, and looks out, nothing but rain and black mud, and a horrible stench from the rushing gutters. He shuts the door with an oath and goes in again. “Take care, missus!” A faint glimmer from a lantern shows me J two figures picking their way through mud and filth—a rough looking man, whose old fur cap is drawn low over his brow, and beiiind him a woman, dressed in the coarse gown and white cap of an English Sister of Mercy ; a little black wooden cross on her breast, and a long cloak around her. The face, on which the yellow light shines, is homely with a slightly worn expression, and eyes full of kindly sweetness. ——-- “I am very glad to have arrived,” she says, cheerfully, shutting her cotton umbrella, and about to step into the house. A man from within pushed her back roughly but not unkindly. “Do you know what you undertake, miss?” lie says, “Five of ’em—two brothers, wives and a child. And it’s black smallpox.” “I know; let me pass! Thank you for your warning,” she answered iyThe man mutters something and draws back; She goes in. ♦ * * * * *

I suppose some days, even weeks must have passed in my dreams, for I awoke to find my little circular picture full of daylights. It is the same alley, but a narrow pathway along it is swept clean and dry, and here and there strewn with straw. At the door of the public house stands a group of people surrounding the Sister of Mercy. Two pf them seem as if their hearts were of speech; on the arm of one hangs a weakly woman, the other stands alone, They press her hands, one man raises the rough sleeve of her gown and kisses the hem, with tears raining down his cheeks. Kindly words she says to all, a little practical advice, a little exhortation. They listen as if she were a saint from heaven, and then she goes her way. One old man exclaims as she disappears: “Well, if there be a God, He will hear our blessings on that there Sister.” The shadows gathered so quickly over my picture that I hardly saw her to the end of the street. I leant my head on my hand and tried to make out these vi-ions, but I seemed strangely unable to fix my thoughts. “Exceptional cases, nothing but exceptional cases,” I heard myself mutter, and the words half aroused me. I felt fqr my pencil to make another memorandum, when my attention was again arrested. ♦ * ♦ ♦ *- ♦ Shadows rose up one after another like thin curtains from my magic circle, and a new scene presented itself to my gaze. " A charming boudoir furnished with every luxury, the walls hung with crimson silk, lull of rare pictures and cabinets of precious china. A white bear skin rug before the fire, on which was seated a young lady, who leant her arms on the lap of an older woman reposing in a deep arm chair. , ' They were very like each other, but

it wsß doubtful whether the elder lady could ever have been so lovely as her golden-haired child. The girl held out to her mother a clearly written letter, saying in a broken voice, “Mother, I want you to? see what I have written to him.”/ Her lips smiled bravely, while the tears were streaming unheeded down her chdeks. The mother took her letter. I seemed to be reading with her eyes, for 1 heard no voice, yet I know what that letter contain- d: My De,abest Harry:- Y’onr letter came to me this morning, and it is so difficult to answer that I hope you will be patient with me. We have known each other so long, and loved each other so dearly, that it grieves me bitterly to refu’se to marry you. Yes, dearest, it is to refuse that I write, and perhaps you will tliinh Tffehard and pedantic for my reasons, and perhaps unfeeling and unkind. Oh, do not think i&>, for I have been crying all the -tim*-L-Aiave-.been.-writiiig this, andFL. can scarcely see to write.,now. It goes to my hear-t to grieve yon so. And must I, need I tell you why? Harry, .if you do not grow more steady, you will break my heart. I have read your letter over and over again, and tried to believe what you say, that 1 could save you, I am only a girl, and full of faults. I could not hear of my husband gambling, or see him helpless from drink without terror, disgust, horror. I dare not, Harry; your salvation is in higher hands than mine. Do not lean on a broken rfeed. We have no strengthin ourselves. . lam doing this—l am sending you away from me—but it is breakmg my heart. For I love" you, my darling—l love you as I know that you love me. Do not try to see me, or to alter my determination, for it cannot be altered. Good-bye, my darling; I will pray for all God’s blessings on your head. Good-bye, good-bye, Maude. Then the shadows stole lingeringly over the article, folding it softly out of sight. Again I must suppose a lapse of time, perhaps years. It is war time, anxiety/ and trouble are brooding over the land. The shadows flit past.' It is the same room, with the same figures, but difler~ ently occupied. Dressed in deep mourning, mother and daughter havq been picking lint. A little packet of letters lies on the table, and low sobs burst now and then from Maude. There lies her own letter, worn, and yellow, and old. It was found in his breast and sent home with a lock of his chestnut hair, accompanied by a letter from his colonel—full of bitter grief for the young officer whom every one had loved, the steadiest, the best, the bravest, the most zealous, whose influence had raised the whole tone of his command. “Maude—Tell Maude that I owe all to her under God.” Those were the last words ho uttered before he was lad in a soldier’s grave. * * * . * * ♦ See, the shadows are stirring again, moving to and fro in an agitated way. What is coming now? It is dark at first, then slowly, as my eyes got accustomed to the gloom, I saw before me a death bed. Upraised on the white pillow lay an aged woman, her face beaming with a light more divine than of earth, her pale hands crossed on her breast. Round her stood her sons and daughters, and her children’s children, and not one among them who has not wept bitter tears that so soon they should see her face no more. * ♦ • • •

Only one more little glimpse, and light poured over the picture, which disappeared in a golden glow. I hid my dazzled face. “Charley!” A voice spoke my name in tones that thrilled my soul, and a sound of distant music filled the air. I raised my eyes. In the midst o£ the glow stood the form of my wife.. Her robes were as white as snow, hex; golden hair fell like a halo around her, her lips parted in that sweet smile that; never could fade from my heart. “Husband,” she said, “you have seen visions, sent to teach you the secret ofj woman’s mission—influence, the power of the weakest.” “And their rights?” “The reward of their labor. Prayers and blessings, the fruition of self-sacri-fice, gratitude, reverence, love. These are the rights of true women.” The sweet vision passed away, and I was left sitting in my chair with the blank wall opposite to me, and the embers in the grate slowly burning out. Sweet Maudie, energetic Jeanie; my good cousins—we would have thought it of you all ? Well, well! one lives and learns. I wish I had come home soon enough to see my mother once more. They said she for me. In this world all must have its fitting place, and all be adjusted so well that the revolutions of our circular globe do not produce a second chaos.—What were the tree without its leaves or the flower without the stalk? What were women without man, and in Heaven’s name where, were men without woman. —Temple Bar.