University of Virginia Library

“THE STRUGGLES OF A CONSERVATIVE WITH
THE WOMAN QUESTION.”

A LECTURE

DELIVERED IN MUSIC HALL, BOSTON, DEC. 16, 1868.

I am by nature a Conservative, for I was born one. In my
infancy I was rocked in an old-fashioned cradle, for my parents
would have nothing whatever to do with new-fashioned gimcracks
on springs. Whatever they used must be that which
had the sanction of years. When my infantile stomach was
agonized, I was soothed with Godfrey's Cordial. At the beginning,
paregoric was the favorite anodyne; but my mother
one day happening to discover in a household book that her
grandmother used Godfrey's Cordial, that was immediately
substituted as being undoubtedly the best. Godfrey's Cordial
was counted the most efficacious, because the bottles which
contained it were quaint and old-fashioned, and the labels were
printed in the characters and upon the paper used a century
ago. It was good enough for the stomachs of my ancestors,
and why not for mine? It has been ever since a rule in our
family that it is better for babies to die with Godfrey's Cordial
than to live with any other remedy. One brother of mine,
whose head differed in shape from the others of the family, in
being largest in front of the ears, suggested that the world
had progressed since Godfrey's day, and that possibly science
had produced a better combination. He was ordered to leave
the house instantly. As a rebuke to him, my infant sister was
given a double dose of Godfrey, and my father prayed earnestly
against innovators and presumptuous men, and erased his

name from the family Bible. The little sister died before
morning; my brother went away and invented an improvement
in steam engines, thus fiendishly inflicting a stab at the
horse interest. But I cannot dwell upon family matters. I
have much to say, and life is short and uncertain. I know
that's so, for a life insurance man told me so yesterday.

I grew up with reverence for everything old. I am not the
man who caught hold of the coat-tail of Progress, and yelled
“Whoa!” I do not believe there ever was such a man. Progress
does not wear a coat; he rushes by in his shirt sleeves;
and, besides, your true Conservative, of whom I am which,
never gets awake in time to see Progress whistle by.

I never think, for there's no necessity for thinking. All the
trouble the world has ever seen has proceeded from pestiferous
thinkers. I am content that men who departed this life some
centuries ago, and were decently buried, and had their obituaries
published in the newspapers, and their tombstones erected,
with as many virtues cut upon them as their administrators
had money to pay for — I am content that these men, deceased
as they are, should do my thinking for me. I study these
men, and take their action as safe precedent to follow. With
such men as I am, the thing that has been done is the right
thing to do; and the thing that has never been done, must
therefore never be done.

We have a poor opinion of ourselves. We, of the United
States, believe that all the wisdom of the country died with the
last member of the Continental Congress, and that our only
hope is in following closely in the footsteps of the members of
that body. Therefore we opposed the abolition of slavery,
because they left us slavery. We opposed all attempts to suppress
intemperance, because intemperance was; and such of
us as professed Christianity, opposed Sunday schools, because
Paul was not a superintendent of one, and because we could
nowhere find it recorded that Luke had a Bible, or Martha an
infant class.

Irreverent men, it is true, puzzle our Christian Conservatives,
by insisting that if all old things are good things, then we
must all rush into murder, that cheerful vice being almost contemporary
with creation.

But we do not allow that to shake us. Conservatives are
not, as a rule, logicians. They have an anchor in precedent,
which holds them fast, while logic is a ship that sails out into
unexplored seas. By doing only that which has been done,
we hold fast to our ancestors; and if they were not respectable
people, who were?

I adore woman. I recognize the importance of the sex, and
lay at its feet my humble tribute. But for woman, where
would we have been? Who in our infancy washed our faces,
fed us soothing syrup, and taught us “How doth the little
busy bee?” Woman! To whom did we give red apples in
our boyhood? for whom did we part our hair behind, and wear
No. 7 boots when No. 10's would have been more comfortable?
and WITH WHOM did we sit up nights, in the hair-oil period of
our existence? And finally, whom did we marry? But for
woman what would the novelists have done? What would
have become of Sylvanus Cobb, Jr., if he had had no women
to make heroines of? And without Sylvanus Cobb, Bonner
could not have made the Ledger a success; Everett would be
remembered not as the man who wrote for the Ledger, but
merely as an orator and statesman; Beecher never would have
written Norwood, and Dexter might to-day have been chafing
under the collar in a dray! But for woman George Washington
would not have been the father of his country, the Sunday
school teachers would have been short the affecting story
of the little hatchet and the cherry tree, and half the babies
in the country would have been named after some one else.
Possibly they might have all been Smiths. But for woman
Andrew Johnson never would have been, and future generations
would have lost the most awful example of depravity the
world has ever seen. I adore woman, but I want her to keep
her place. I don't want woman to be the coming man!

In considering this woman question I occupy the Conservative
standpoint. I find that from the most gray-headed times
one half of the human race have lived and moved by the grace
and favor of the other half. From the beginning woman has
occupied a dependent position, and has been only what man
has made her. The Turks, logical fellows, denied her a soul,
and made of her an object of barter and sale; the American

Indians made of her a beast of burden. In America, since we
extended the area of civilization by butchering the Indians,
we have copied both. In the higher walks of life she is a toy
to be played with, and is bought and sold; in the lower strata
she bears the burdens and does the drudgery of servants, without
the ameliorating conditions that make other servitude
tolerable and possible to be borne. But I am sure that her
present condition is her proper condition, for it always has
been so.

Adam subjugated Eve at the beginning, and following precedent
Cain subjugated his wife. Mrs. Cain, not being an
original thinker, imitated her mother-in-law, who probably lived
with them, and made it warm for her, as is the custom of
mothers-in-law, and the precedent being established, it has been
so ever since. I reject with scorn the idea advanced by a
schoolmistress, that Eve was an inferior woman, and therefore
submitted; and that Eve's being an inferior woman was no
reason for classing all her daughters with her. “Had I been
Eve,” she remarked, “I would have made a different precedent!”
and I rather think she would.

The first record we have of man and woman is in the first
chapter of Genesis. “So God created man in his own image.
And he made man of the dust of the earth.” In the second
chapter we have a record of the making of woman by taking
a rib from man. Man, it will be observed, was created first,
showing conclusively that he was intended to take precedence
of woman. This woman, to whom I referred a moment since,
denied the correctness of the conclusion. Man was made first,
woman afterwards, — isn't it reasonable to suppose that the
last creation was the best? “If there is anything in being
first,” she continued, “man must acknowledge the supremacy
of the goose, for the fowl is first mentioned.” And she argued
further: “Man was made of the dust of the earth, the lowest
form of matter; woman was made of man, the highest and
most perfect form. It is clear that woman must be the better,
for she was made of better material!” But, of course, I look
upon this as mere sophistry.

I attempted to trace the relative condition of the sexes from
the creation down to the fall of man, but the Bible is silent

upon the subject, and the files of the newspapers of the period
were doubtless all destroyed in the flood. I have not been
able to find that any have been preserved in the public libraries
of the country. But it is to be presumed that they lived
upon precisely the terms that they do now. I shall assume
that Eve was merely the domestic servant of Adam — that
she rose in the morning, careful not to disturb his slumbers
— that she cooked his breakfast, called him affectionately
when it was quite ready, waited upon him at table, arranged
his shaving implements ready to his hand, saw him properly
dressed — after which she washed the dishes, and amused herself
darning his torn fig leaves till the time arrived to prepare
dinner, and so on till nightfall, after which time she improved
her mind, and, before master Cain was born, slept. She did
not even keep a kitchen girl; at least I find no record of anything
of the kind. Probably at that time the emigration from
Ireland was setting in other directions, and help was hard to
get. That she was a good wife and a contented one I do not
doubt. I find no record in the Scriptures of her throwing
tea-pots, or chairs, or brooms, or anything of the sort at Adam's
head, nor is it put down that at any time she intimated a desire
for a divorce, which proves conclusively that the Garden
of Eden was not located in the State of Indiana. But I judge
that Adam was a good, kind husband. He did not go to his
club at night, for, as near as I can learn, he had no club. His
son Cain had one, however, as his other son, Abel, discovered.

I am certain that he did not insist on smoking cigars in the
back parlor, making the curtains smell. I do not know that
these things are so; but as mankind does to-day what mankind
did centuries ago, it is reasonable to assume, when we
don't know anything about it, that what is done to-day was
done centuries ago. The bulk of mankind have learned nothing
since Adam's time. Eve's duties were not as trying as
those piled upon her daughters. As compared with the fashionable
women of to-day, her lot was less perplexing. Society
was not so exacting in her time. She had no calls to make,
or parties to give and attend. Her toilet was much simpler,
and did not require the entire resources of her intellect. If
her situation is compared with that of the wives of poorer

men, it will be found to be better. They had no meat to dress,
flour to knead, or bread to bake. The trees bore fruit, which
were to be had for the picking; and as they were strict vegetarians,
it sufficed. I have wished that her taste in fruit had
been more easily satisfied, for her unfortunate craving after
one particular variety brought me into trouble. But I have
forgiven her. I shall never reproach her for this. She is
dead, alas! and let her one fault lie undisturbed in the grave
with her. It is well that Eve died when she did. It would
have broken her heart had she lived to see how the most of her
family turned out.

I insist, however, that what labor of a domestic nature was
done, she did. She picked the fruit, pared it and stewed it,
like a dutiful wife. She was no strong-minded female, and
never got out of her legitimate sphere. I have searched the
book of Genesis faithfully, and I defy any one to find it recorded
therein that Eve ever made a public speech, or
expressed any desire to preach, practise law or medicine, or
sit in the legislature of her native State. What a crushing,
withering, scathing, blasting rebuke to the Dickinsons, Stantons,
Blackwells, and Anthonys of this degenerate day.

I find in the Bible many arguments against the equality of
woman with man in point of intellectual power. The serpent
tempted Eve, not Adam. Why did he select Eve? Ah, why,
indeed! Whatever else may be said of Satan, no one will, I
think, question his ability! I do not stand here as his champion
or even apologist; in fact, I am willing to admit that in
many instances his behavior has been ungentlemanly, but no
one will deny that he is a most consummate judge of character,
and that he has never failed to select for his work the most fitting
instruments. In this, as in all other respects, save ability,
A. Johnson was very like him. When America was to be betrayed
the first time, Satan selected Arnold; when the second
betrayal of the Republic was determined upon, he knew where
Jefferson Davis, Floyd, and Buchanan lived; and when he had
other dirty work to do, with unfailing instinct, he clapped his
claw on the shoulders of Chief Justice Chase, as he had before
drafted Seward and Doolittle. When there is a fearful piece
of jobbery to get through Congress or the New York legislature,

he never fails to select precisely the right persons for
the villany. Possibly he is not entitled to credit for discrimination
in these last-mentioned bodies, for he could not very
well go wrong. He could find instruments in either, with
both hands tied and blindfolded. But this is a digression.
Why did Satan select Eve? Because he knew that Eve the
woman, was weaker than Adam the man, and therefore best
for his purpose. This reckless female insisted that Satan approached
Eve first, because he knew that woman was not
afraid of the devil; but I reject this explanation as irrelevant,

At this point, however, we must stop. Should we go on, we
would find that Eve, the weak woman, tempted Adam, the
strong man, with distinguished success, which would leave us
in this predicament: Satan, stronger than Eve, tempted her to
indulge in fruit. Eve's weakness was demonstrated by her
falling a victim to temptation. Eve tempted Adam; Adam
yielded to Eve; therefore, if Eve was weak in yielding to
Satan, how much weaker was Adam in yielding to Eve? If
Satan had been considerate of the feelings of the conservatives,
his best friends, by the way, in all ages, he would have
tempted Adam first, and caused Adam to tempt Eve. This
would have afforded us the eddifying spectacle of the strong man
leading the weak woman, which would be in accordance with
our idea of the eternal fitness of things. But now that I look
at it again, this would'nt do; for it is necessary to our argument
that the woman should be tempted first, to prove that she
was the weaker of the two. I shall dismiss Adam and Eve with
the remark, that notwithstanding the respect one ought always
to feel for his ancestors, those whose blood is the same as that
running in his veins, I cannot but say that Adam's conduct in
this transaction was weak. If Adam's spirit is listening to me
to-night, I can't help it. I presume he will feel badly to hear
me say it, but truth is truth. Instead of saying boldly, “I
ate!” he attempted to clear his skirts by skulking behind
those of his wife's. “The woman thou gavest me tempted
me and I did eat,” he said, which was paltry. Had Adam been
stronger minded he would have refused the tempting bite, and
then only woman would have been amenable to the death
penalty that followed. This would have killed the legal profession

in Chicago, for what man who was to live forever would
get a divorce from his wife who could live but eighty or
ninety years at best?

As a conservative, I oppose any advancement of woman,
because she is the inferior of man. This fact is recognized in
all civilized countries, and in most heathen nations. The
Hindoos, it is true, in one of their practices, acknowledge a
superiority of woman. In Hindostan, when a man dies, his
widow is immediately burned, that she may follow him, — an
acknowledgement that woman is as necessary to him in the
next world as in this. As men are never burned when their
wives die, it may be taken as admitting that women are abundantly
able to get along alone; or, perchance it may be because
men in that country, as in this, can get new wives easier than
women can get new husbands. The exit from this world by
fire was probably chosen, that the wife might in some measure
be fitted for the climate in which she might expect to find her
husband.

The inferiority of the sex is easy of demonstration. It has
been said that the mother forms the character of the man so
long, that the proposition has become axiomatic. If this be true,
we can crush those who prate of the equality of women, by
holding up to the gaze of the world the inferior men she has
formed. Look at the Congress of the United States. Look at
Garret Davis. By their works ye shall know them. It won't
do to cite me to the mothers of the good and great men whose
names adorn American History. The number is too small.
There's George Washington, Wendell Phillips, Abraham Lincoln,
and one other, whose name all the tortures of the Inquisition
could not make me reveal. Modesty forbids me.

Those who clamor for the extension of the sphere of woman,
point to the names of women illustrious in history, sacred and
profane. I find, to my discomfiture, that some of the sex
really excelled the sterner. There was Mrs. Jezebel Ahab,
for instance. Ahab wanted the vineyard of Naboth, which
Naboth refused to sell, owing to a prejudice he had against
disposing of real estate which he had inherited. Ahab, who
was not an ornament to his sex, went home sick, and took to
his bed like a girl, and turned away his face, and would eat no

bread. Mrs. Ahab was made of sterner stuff. “Arise,” said
Mrs. A.; “be merry. I will give thee the vineyard of Naboth
the Jezrelite.” And she did it. She trapped him as neatly as
David did Uriah. She suborned two sons of Belial (by the
way Belial has had a large family, and the stock has not run
out yet), to bear false witness against him, saying that he had
blasphemed God and the King, and they took him out and
stoned him. Ahab got the vineyard. It is true this lady came
to a miserable end, but she accomplished what she desired.

Miss Pocahontas has been held up as a sample of female
strength of mind. I don't deny that she displayed some
decision of character, but it was fearfully unwomanly. When
her father raised his club over the head of the astonished
Smith, instead of rushing in so recklessly, she should have said,
“Please, pa, don't.” Her recklessness was immense. Suppose
Pocahontas had been unable to stay the blow, where
would our Miss have been then? She never would have
married Rolfe; and what would the first families of Virginia
have done for somebody to descend from? When we remember
that all the people of that proud State claim this woman
as their mother, we shudder, or ought to, when we contemplate
the possible consequences of her rashness.

Delilah, whose other name is not recorded, overcame Samson,
the first and most successful conundrum maker of his age, and
Jael, it will be remembered, silenced Sisera forever. Joan of
Arc conquered the English after the French leaders failed,
and Elizabeth of England was the greatest of English rulers.
I acknowledge all this, but then these women had opportunities
beyond those of women in general. They had as many
opportunities as the men of their respective periods had, and
consequently, if they were mentally as great as men, — no,
that isn't what I mean to say, — if the men of the period
were no greater mentally than they — no — if the circumstances
which surrounded them, gave them opportunities, which,
being mentally as great as men — I have this thing mixed up
somehow, and it don't result as it ought to — but this is true;
Delilah, Elizabeth, Joan of Arc — all and singular, unsexed
themselves, and did things unbecoming ladies of refinement
and cultivation. Joan's place was spinning flax in her father's

hut, and not at the head of armies. Had she followed the
natural mode of feminine life she would not have been burned
at the stake, and the English would not have been interrupted
in their work of reducing France to the condition of an English
province. Had I lived in France, I should have said, “Down
with her! Let us perish under a man rather than be saved by
a woman!” Joan should have been ashamed of herself — I
blush for her. Had Elizabeth been content to entrust her
kingdom to the hands of her cabinet, she would have left it
in the happy condition of the United States at the close of
Buchanan's administration, but she would have been true to
our idea of the womanly life.

There is, in the feminine character, a decisive promptness
which we must admire. Eve ate the apple without a moment's
hesitation, and the characteristic is more beautifully illustrated
in the touching and well reported account of the courtship
and marriage of Rebekah with Isaac. Abraham's servant was
sent, it will be remembered, by such of you as have read the
Bible, to negotiate for a wife for young Isaac among his
kindred, as he had as intense a prejudice against the Canaanites
as have the Democracy of the present day. This servant,
whom we will call Smith, as his name unfortunately has not
been preserved, and Laban, the brother of Rebekah, had almost
arranged the matter. The servant desired to return with the
young lady at once, but the mother and brother desired her
to remain some days, contrary to modern practice, in that the
parents now desire the young lady to get settled in her own
house and off their hands as soon as possible. The servant
insisted, whereupon the mother remarked, “We will call the
damsel and inquire at her mouth.” They called Rebekah and
asked, “Wilt thou go with this man?”

It is related of a damsel in Pike county, Missouri, who was
being wedded to the man whose choice she was, when the
minister officiating asked the usual question, “Wilt thou have
this man to be thy wedded husband?” that dropping her long
eyelashes, she promptly answered, “You bet!” Even so
with Rebekah. She neither fainted, simpered, or blushed.
She did not say that she hadn't a thing fit to put on — that
her clothes weren't home from the dressmakers. No! Using

the Hebrew equivalent for “you bet!” — for Rebekah was a
smart girl, and young as she was, had learned to speak Hebrew
— when the question was put to her, “Wilt thou go with this
man?” she answered, “I will,” — and she went. I don't know
that this proves anything, unless it be that women of that day
took as great risks for husbands as they do now. Miss Rebekah
had scarcely been introduced to her future husband.
It might be interesting to trace the history of this woman,
but I have hardly the time. I will say, however, that she was
a mistress of duplicity. To get the blessing of her husband
for her pet son Jacob, she put false hair upon him to deceive
the old gentleman, and did it. From that day to this, women
in every place but this, have deceived men, young as well as
old, with false hair.

The feminine habit of thought is not such as to entitle them
to privileges beyond those they now enjoy. No woman was
ever a drayman; no woman ever carried a hod; no woman
ever drove horses on the canals of the country; and what is
more to the point, no woman ever shovelled a single wheelbarrow
of earth on the public works. I triumphantly ask, Did
any woman assist in preparing the road bed of the Pacific
Railway? did any woman drive a spike in that magnificent
structure? No woman is employed in the forging department
of any shop in which is made the locomotives that climb
the Sierra Nevada, whose head-lights beam on the valleys of
the Pacific coast — the suns of our commercial system.

Just as I had this arranged in my mind, this disturbing
female, of whom I have spoken once or twice, asked me
whether carrying hods, driving horses on canals, or shovelling
dirt on railways, had been, in the past, considered the best
training for intelligent participation in political privileges?
She remarked, that judging from the character of most of the
legislation of which she had knowledge, these had been the
schools in which Legislators had been trained, but she hardly
believed that I would acknowledge it. “Make these the
qualifications,” said she, “and where would you be, my friend,
who have neither driven a spike, driven a horse, or shovelled
dirt? It would cut out all of my class (she was a teacher) —
indeed I know of but two women in America who would be

admitted. The two women I refer to fought a prize fight in
Connecticut recently, observing all the rules of the English ring,
and they displayed as much gameness as was ever shown by
that muscular lawmaker, the Hon. John Morrissey. These women
ought to vote, and if, in the good time coming, women distribute
honors as men have done, they may go to Congress.”

I answered, that these classes had always voted, and therefore
it was right that they should always vote.

“Certainly they have,” returned she, “and as I have heard
them addressed a score of times as the embodied virtue, honesty,
and intelligence of the country, I have come to the conclusion
that there must be something in the labor they do
which fits them peculiarly for the duties of law-making.”

My friend is learned. She has a tolerable knowledge of
Greek, is an excellent Latin scholar, and as she has read the
Constitution of the United States, she excels in political lore
the great majority of our representatives in Congress. But
nevertheless I protest against her voting for several reasons.

1. She cannot sing bass! Her voice, as Dr. Bushnell justly
observes in his blessed book, is pitched higher than the male
voice, which indicates feminine weakness of mind.

2. Her form is graceful rather than strong.

3. She delights in millinery goods.

4. She can't grow whiskers.

In all of these points nature has made a distinction between
the sexes which cannot be overlooked.

To all of these she plead guilty. She confessed that she had
not the strength necessary to the splitting of rails; she confessed
that she could neither grow a beard or sing bass. She
wished she could grow a beard, as she knew so many men
whose only title to intellect was their whiskers. But she said
she took courage when she observed that the same disparity
was noticeable in men. Within the range of her acquaintance
she knew men who had struggled with mustaches with a perseverance
worthy of a better cause, and whose existence had
been blighted by the consciousness that they could not. Life
was to them, in consequence, a failure. Others she knew who
had no more strength than a girl, and others whose voices
were pitched in a childish treble. If beards, heavy voices,

and physical strength were the qualifications for the ballot, she
would at once betake herself to razors, hair invigorators, and
gymnasiums. She went on thus: —

“In many respects,” she said, “the sexes are alike. Both
are encumbered with stomachs and heads, and both have bodies
to clothe. So far as physical existence is concerned they are
very like. Both are affected by laws made and enacted, and
both are popularly supposed to have minds capable of weighing
the effect of laws. How, thrust into the world as I am,
with a stomach to fill and limbs to clothe, with both hands
tied, am I to live, to say nothing of fulfilling any other end?”

“Woman,” I replied, “is man's angel.”

“Stuff and nonsense,” was her impolite reply. “I am no
angel. I am a woman. Angels, according to our idea of
angels, have no use for clothing. Either their wings are
enough to cover their bodies, or they are so constituted as
not to be affected by heat or cold. Neither do they require
food. I cannot imagine a feminine angel with hoop skirts,
Grecian bend, gaiters and bonnet; or a masculine angel in
tight pantaloons, with a cane and silk hat. Angels do not
cook dinners, but women do. Why do you say angels to us?
It creates angel tastes, without the possibility of their ever
satisfying those tastes. The bird was made to soar in the
upper air, and was therefore provided with hollow bones,
wings, &c. Imagine an elephant or a rhinoceros possessed
with a longing to soar into the infinite ethereal. Could an
elephant, with his physical structure, be possessed with such
a longing, the elephant would be miserable, because he could
not. He would be as miserable as James Fisk, Jr., is, with an
ungobbled railroad; as Bonner would be if Dexter were the
property of another man; and as Salmon P. Chase is with the
Presidency before him. It would be well enough to make
angels of us, if you could keep us in a semi-angelic state; but
the few thus kept only make the misery of those not so
fortunate the more intense. No; treat us rather as human
beings, with all the appetites, wants, and necessities of human
beings, for we are forced to provide for those wants, necessities
and appetites.”

I acknowledge the correctness of her position. They must

live; not that they are of very much account in and of themselves,
but that the nobler sex may be perpetuated to bless
and adorn the earth. Without woman it would take less than
a century to wind up man, and then what would the world
do? This difficulty is obviated by marriage. All that we have
to do is to marry each man to one woman, and demand of each
man that he care for and cherish one woman, and the difficulty
is got along with. And got along with too, leaving things as
we desire them, namely, with the woman dependent upon the
man. We proceed upon the proposition that there are just as
many men as there are women in the world; that all men will
do their duty in this particular, and at the right time; that
every Jack will get precisely the right Jill, and that every Jill
will be not only willing, but anxious, to take the Jack the Lord
sends her, asking no questions.

If there be one woman more than there are men, it's bad
for that woman. I don't know what she can do, unless she
makes shirts for the odd man, at twelve and a half cents each,
and lives gorgeously on the proceeds of her toil. If one man
concludes that he won't marry at all, it's bad for another
woman, unless some man's wife dies and he marries again.
That might equalize it, but for two reasons: It compels the
woman to wait for a husband till she possibly concludes it isn't
worth while; and furthermore, husbands die as fast as wives,
which brings a new element into the field — widows; and pray
what chance has an inexperienced man against a widow determined
upon a second husband?

I admit, that if there were as many men as women, and if
they should all marry, and the matter be all properly fixed up
at the start, that our present system is still bad for some of
them. She, whose husband gets to inventing flying machines,
or running for office, or any of those foolish or discreditable
employments, would be in a bad situation. Or, when the husband
neglects his duty, and refuses to care for his wife at all;
or, to state a case which no one ever witnessed, suppose one
not only refuses to care for his wife, but refuses to care for
himself! Or, suppose he contracts the injudicious habit of
returning to his home at night in a state of inebriation, and of
breaking chairs, and crockery, and his wife's head, and other

trifles — in such a case I must admit that her position would
be, to say the least, unpleasant, particularly as she couldn't
help herself. She can't very well take care of herself; for to
make woman purely a domestic creature, to ornament our
homes, we have never permitted them to think for themselves,
act for themselves, or do for themselves. We insist upon her
being a tender ivy clinging to the rugged oak — if the oak
she clings to happens to be bass-wood, and rotten at that, it's
not our fault. In these cases it's her duty to keep on clinging,
and to finally go down with it in pious resignation. The
fault is in the system, and as those who made the system are
dead, and as six thousand brief summers have passed over
their tombs, it would be sacrilege in us to disturb it. Customs,
like cheese, grow mitey as they grow old.

Let every woman marry, and marry as soon as possible.
Then she is provided for. Then the ivy has her oak. Then if
her husband is a good man, a kind man, an honest man, a sober
man, a truthful man, a liberal man, an industrious man, a managing
man, and if he has a good business and drives it, and meets
with no misfortunes, and never yields to temptations, why, then,
the maid promoted to be his wife, will be tolerably certain to,
at least, have all that she can eat, and all that she can wear,
as long as he continues so.

This disturbing woman of whom I have spoken once or
twice, remarked that she did not care for those who were
married happily, but she wanted something done for those who
were not married at all, and those who were married unfortunately.
She liked the ivy and the oak-tree idea, but she
wanted the ivy — woman — to have a stiffening of intelligence
and opportunity, that she might stand alone in case the oak
was not competent to sustain it. She demanded, in short, employment
at anything she was capable of doing, and pay precisely
the same that men receive for the same labor, provided
she does it as well.

This is a clear flying in the face of Providence. It is utterly
impossible that any woman can do any work as well as men.
Nature decreed it otherwise. Nature did not give them the
strength. Ask the clerks at Washington, whose muscular
frames, whose hardened sinews, are employed at from twelve

hundred to three thousand dollars per annum, in the arduous
and exhausting labor of writing in books, and counting money,
and cutting out extracts from newspapers, and indorsing papers
and filing them, what they think of that? Ask the
brawny young men whose manly forms are wasted away in the
wearing occupation of measuring tape and exhibiting silks,
what they think of it? Are women, frail as they are, to fill
positions in the government offices? I asked her sternly,
“Are you willing to go to war? Did you shoulder a musket
in the late unpleasantness?”

This did not settle her. She merely asked me if I carried
a musket in the late war. Certainly I did not. I had too
much presence of mind to volunteer. Nor did the majority
of those holding official position. Like Job's charger, they
snuffed the battle afar off — some hundreds of miles — and
slew the haughty Southron on the stump, or by substitute.
But there is this difference: we could have gone, while women
could not. And it is better that it is so. In the event of another
bloody war, — one so desperate as to require all the patriotism
of the country to show itself, — I do not want my wife
to go to the tented field, even though she have the requisite
physical strength. No, indeed! I want her to stay at home
— with me!

In the matter of wages, I do not see how it is to be helped.
The woman who teaches a school, receives, if she has thoroughly
mastered the requirements of the position, say six
hundred dollars per year, while a man occupying the same
position, filling it with equal ability, receives twice that
amount, and possibly three times. But what is this to me?
As a man of business, my duty to myself is to get my children
educated at the least possible expense. As there are but very
few things women are permitted to do, and as for every vacant
place there are a hundred women eager for it, as a matter of
course, their pay is brought down to a very fine point. As I
said some minutes ago, if the men born into the world would
marry at twenty-one, each a maiden of eighteen, and take care
of her properly, and never get drunk, or sick, or anything of
that inconvenient sort, and both would be taken at precisely
the same time with consumption, yellow fever, cholera, or any

one of those cheerful ailments, and employ the same physician,
that they might go out of the world at the same moment, and
become angels with wings and long white robes, it would be
well enough. The men would then take care of the women,
except those who marry milliners, in which case the women
take care of the men, which amounts to the same thing, as the
one dependent upon somebody else is taken care of. But it
don't so happen. Men do not marry as they ought at twenty-one;
they put it off to twenty-five, thirty, or forty, and many
of them are wicked enough not to marry at all; and of those
who do marry there will always be a certain per cent. who
will be dissipated or worthless. What then? I can't deny
that there will be women left out in the cold. There are those
who don't marry, and those who cannot. Possibly the number
thus situated would be lessened if we permitted women to
rush in and seize men, and marry them, nolens volens, but the
superior animal will not brook that familiarity. He must do
the wooing — he must ask the woman in his lordly way. Compelled
to wait to be asked, and forced to marry that they may
have the wherewithal to eat and be clothed, very many of
them take fearful chances. They dare not, as a rule, refuse
to marry. Man must, as the superior being, have the choice
of occupations, and it is a singular fact that, superior as he is
by virtue of his strength, he rushes invariably to the occupations
that least require strength, and which woman might fill
to advantage. They monopolize all the occupations — the
married man has his family to take care of — the single man
has his back hair to support; what is to become of these unfortunate
single women — maids and widows? Live they must.
They have all the necessities of life to supply, and nothing to
supply them with. What shall they do? Why, work of
course. But say they, “We are willing to work, but we must
have wages.” Granted. But how shall we get at the wages —
what shall be the standard? I must get my work done as
cheaply as possible. Now if three women — a widow, we will
say, with five children to support; a girl who has to work or
do worse; and a wife with an invalid husband to feed, clothe,
and find medicine for — if these three come to my door, clamoring
for the love of God for something to do, what shall I, as
a prudent man, do in the matter? There are immutable laws
governing all these things — the law of supply and demand.
Christ, whose mission was with the poor, made other laws, but
Christ is not allowed to have anything to do with business.
Selfishness is older than Christ, and we Conservatives stick
close to the oldest. What do I do? Why, as a man of business,
I naturally ascertain which of the three is burdened with
the most crushing responsibilities and necessities. I ascertain
to a mouthful the amount of food necessary to keep each, and
then the one who will do my work for the price nearest starvation
rates gets it to do. If the poor girl prefers the pittance
I offer her to a life of shame, she gets it. If the wife is
willing to work her fingers nearer the bone than the others,
rather than abandon her husband, she gets it; and speculating
on the love the mother bears her children, I see how much of
her life the widow will give to save theirs, and decide accordingly.
I know very well that these poor creatures cannot saw
wood, wield the hammer, or roll barrels on the docks. I know
that custom bars them out of many employments, and that the
more manly vocations of handling ribbons, manipulating telegraphic
instruments, &c., are monopolized by men. Confined
as they are to a few vocations, and there being so many hundreds
of thousands of men who will not each provide for one,
there are necessarily ten applicants for every vacancy; and
there being more virtue in the sex than the world has ever
given them credit for, of course they accept, not what their
labor is worth to me and the world, but what I and the
world choose to give for it. It is bad, I grant, but it is the
fault of the system. It is a misfortune, we think, that there are
so many women, and we weep over it. I am willing to shed
any amount of tears over this mistake of nature.

But women are themselves to blame for a great part of the
distress they experience. There is work for more of them, if
they would only do it. The kitchens of the country are not
half supplied with intelligent labor, and therein is a refuge for
all women in distress.

I assert that nothing but foolish pride keeps the daughters
of insolvent wealth out of kitchens, where they may have
happy underground homes and three dollars per week, by

merely doing six hours per day more labor than hod-carriers
average.

This is what they would do were it not for pride, which is
sinful. They should strip the jewels off their fingers, the laces
off their shoulders; they should make a holocaust of their
music and drawings, and, accepting the inevitable, sink with
dignity to the washing of dishes, the scrubbing of floors, and
the wash-tub. This their brothers do, and why haven't they
their strength of mind? Young men delicately nurtured and
reared in the lap of luxury, never refuse the sacrifice when
their papas fail in business. They always throw to the winds
their cigars; they abjure canes and gloves, and mount drays,
and shoulder saw-bucks — anything for an honest living. I
never saw one of these degenerate into a sponge upon society
rather than labor with his hands! Did you? I never saw
one of this class get to be a faro dealer, a billiard marker, a
borrower of small sums of money, a lunch-fiend, a confidenceman,
or anything of the sort. Not they! Giving the go by
to everything in the shape of luxuries, they invariably descend
to the lowest grades of manual labor rather than degenerate
into vicious and immoral courses. Failing the kitchen, women
may canvass for books, though that occupation, like a few
others equally profitable, and which also brings them into continual
contact with the lords of creation, has a drawback in
the fact that some men leer into the face of every woman who
strives to do business for herself, as though she were a moral
leper; and failing all these, she may at least take to the needle.
At this last occupation she is certain of meeting no competition,
save from her own sex. In all my experience, and it has been
extensive, I never yet saw a man making pantaloons at twelve
and one half cents per pair. But they will not all submit.
Refusing to acknowledge the position in life nature fixed for
them they rebel, and unpleasantnesses take place. An incident
which fell under my observation recently illustrates this
beautifully. A young lady, named Jane Evans, I believe, had
sustained the loss of both her parents. The elder Evanses
had been convinced by typhoid fever that this was a cold world,
and, piloted by two doctors, had sailed out in search of a better
one. Jane had a brother, a manly lad of twenty, who, rather

than disgrace the ancient lineage of the Evanses by manual
labor, took up the profession of bar-tender. Jane was less
proud, and as her brother did nothing for her, she purchased
some needles, and renting a room in the uppermost part of a
building in a secluded part of the city of New York, commenced
a playful effort to live by making shirts at eighteen
cents each, for a gentleman named Isaacs. She was situated,
I need not say, pleasantly for one of her class. Her room was
not large, it is true, but as she had no cooking-stove or bedstead,
what did she want of a large room? She had a window
which didn't open, but as there was no glass in it, she had
no occasion to open it. This building commanded a beautiful
view of the back parts of other buildings similar in appearance,
and the sash kept out a portion of the smell. Had that
sash not been in that window-frame, I do not suppose that she
could have staid on account of the smell; at least I heard
her say that she got just as much of it as she could endure.
And in this delightful retreat she sat and sat, and sewed and
sewed. Sometimes in her zeal she would sew till late in the
night, and she always was at her work very early in the morning.
She paid rent promptly, for the genial old gentleman of
whom she leased her room had a sportive habit of kicking
girls into the street who did not pay promptly, and she managed
every now and then, did this economical girl, to purchase
a loaf of bread, which she ate.

One Saturday night she took her bundle of work to the delightful
Mr. Isaacs. Jane had labored sixteen hours per day
on them, and she had determined, as Sunday was close at
hand, to have for her breakfast, in addition to her bread, a
small piece of mutton. Mutton! Luxurious living destroyed
ancient Rome! But Mr. Isaacs found fault with the making
of these shirts. They were not properly sewed, he said, and
he could not in consequence pay her the eighteen cents each
for making, which was the regular price. Jane then injudiciously
cried about it. Now, Mr. Isaacs was, and is, possessed
of a tender heart. He has a great regard for his feelings, and
as he could not bear to see a woman cry, he forthwith kicked
her out of his store into the snow.

What did this wicked girl do? Did she go back and ask

pardon of the good, kind, tender-hearted Mr. Isaacs? Not
she! On the contrary she clenched her hands, and passing by
a baker's shop, stole a loaf of bread, and, brazen thing that she
was, in pure bravado, she ate it in front of the shop. She said
she was hungry, when it was subsequently proven that she
had eaten within forty hours. Justice was swift upon the
heels of the desperate wretch — it always is, by the way, close
behind the friendless. She was arrested by a policeman, who
was opportunely there, as there was a riot in progress in the
next street at the time, which was providential, for had there
been no riot in the next street, the policeman would have been
in that street, and Jane Evans might have got away with her
plunder. She was conveyed to the city prison; was herded
in a cell in which were other women who had progressed farther
than she had; was afterwards arraigned for petty larceny,
and sent to prison for sixty days. Now see how surely evildoers
come to bad ends. The wretched Jane, — this fearfully
depraved Jane, — unable after such a manifestation of depravity
to hold up her head, fell into bad ways. Remorse for the
stealing of that loaf of bread so preyed upon her that she
wandered about the streets of the city five days, asking for
work, and finally threw herself off a wharf. O, how her
brother, the bar-tender, was shocked at this act! Had she continued
working cheerily for Mr. Isaacs, accepting the situation
like a Christian, taking life, as she found it, would she have
thrown herself off a dock? Never! So you see women who
do not want to steal bread, and be arrested, and go off wharves,
must take Mr. Isaacs' pay as he offers it, and must work
cheerily sixteen hours a day, whether they get anything to
eat or not. Had this wretched girl gone back contentedly to
her room, and starved to death cheerfully, she would not have
stolen bread, she would not have lacerated the feelings of her
brother the bar-tender, and would have saved the city of New
York the expense and trouble of fishing her out of the dock.
Such women always make trouble.

The women who fancy they are oppressed, demand, first,
the ballot, that they may have power to better themselves;
and, second, the change of custom and education, that they
may have free access to whatever employment they have

the strength and capacity to fill, and to which their inclination
leads them.

Most emphatically I object to the giving of them the ballot.
It would overturn the whole social fabric. The social fabric
has been overturned a great many times, it is true — so many
times, indeed, that it seems rather to like it; but I doubt
whether it would be strong enough to endure this. I have
too great, too high, too exalted an opinion of woman. I insist
that she shall not dabble in the dirty pool of politics; that
she shall keep herself sacred to her family, whether she has
one or not; and under no consideration shall she go beyond the
domestic circle of which she is the centre and ornament.
There are those who have an insane yearning to do something
beyond the drudgery necessary to supply the commonest wants
of life, and others who have all of these, who would like to
round up their lives with something beyond dress and the unsatisfactory
trifles of fashionable life. There may be women
turning night into day over the needle, for bread that keeps
them just this side of potter's field, who are unreasonable
enough to repine at the system that compels them to this; and
they may, possibly, in secret wish that they had the power in
their hands that would make men court their influence, as the
hod-carrier's is courted, for the vote he casts. The seamstress,
toiling for a pittance that would starve a dog, no doubt prays
for the power that would compel lawmakers to be as careful of
her interests as they are of the interests of the well-paid male
laborers in the dock-yards, who, finding ten hours a day too
much for them, were permitted by act of Congress to draw
ten hours' pay for eight hours' work. The starved colorer of
lithographs, the pale, emaciated tailoress, balancing death and
virtue; drawing stitches with the picture of the luxurious
brothel held up by the devil before her, where there is light,
and warmth, and food, and clothing, and where death is, at
least, farther off; no doubt this girl wishes at times that she
could have that potent bit of paper between her fingers that
would compel blatant demagogues to talk of the rights of
workingwomen as well as of workingmen.

But woman would lose her self-respect if she mixed with
politicians. Most men do; and how could woman hope to

escape. Think you that any pure woman could be a member
of the New York, New Jersey, or Pennsylvania legislatures, and
remain pure? For the sake of the generations to come, I desire
that one sex, at least, shall remain uncontaminated. Imagine
your wife or your sister accepting a bribe from a lobby member!
Imagine your wife or your sister working a corrupt measure
through the legislature, and becoming gloriously elevated
upon champaign in exultation over the result! No! I insist
that these things shall be confined to man, and man alone.

The mixing of women in politics, as all the writers on the
subject have justly remarked, would lower the character of
the woman without elevating that of the man. Imagine, O,
my hearers, a woman aspiring for office, as men do! Imagine
her button-holing voters, as men do! Imagine her lying gliby
and without scruple, as men do! Imagine her drinking with
the lower classes, as men do! of succeeding by the grossest
fraud, as men do! of stealing public money when elected, as
men do! and finally of sinking into the lowest habits, the vilest
practices, as Dr. Bushnell, in several places in his blessed book
on the subject, asserts that men do! You see that to make
the argument good, that women would immediately fall to a
very deep depth of degradation the moment they vote, we
must show that the act of voting compels men to this evil; at
least that is what Dr. Bushnell proves, if he proves anything.
We must show that the holding of an office by man is proof
positive that he has committed crime enough to entitle him to
a cell in a penitentiary, and that he who votes is in a fair way
thereto. Before reading the doctor's book, I was weak enough
to suppose that there were in the United States some hundreds
of thousands of very excellent men, whose long service
in church and state was sufficient guarantee of their excellence;
whose characters were above suspicion, and who had lived,
and would die, honest, reputable citizens. But as all male
citizens above the age of twenty-one vote, and as voting necessarily
produces these results, why, then we are all drunkards,
tricksters, thieves, and plunderers. This disturbing woman, to
whom I read Dr. Bushnell's book, remarked that if voting
tended to so demoralize men, and as they had always voted, it
would be well enough for all the women to vote just once,

that they might all go to perdition together. I am compelled
to the opinion that the doctor is mistaken. I know of quite a
number of men who go to the polls unmolested, who vote their
principles quietly, and go home the better for having exercised
the right. I believe that, before and since Johnson's administration,
there have been honest men in office. But no woman
could do these things in this way. It would unsex her,
just as it does when a woman labors for herself alone.

Again. I object to giving the ballot to woman, because we
want peace. We don't want divided opinion in our families.
As it is, we must have a most delightful unanimity. An
individual cannot possibly quarrel with himself. As it is
now arranged, man and wife are one, and the man is that one.
In all matters outside the house the wife has no voice, and
consequently there can be no differences. O, what a blessed
thing it would be if the same rule could obtain among men!
Had the Radicals had no votes or voices, there would have
been no war, for the Democracy, having it all their own way,
there would have been nothing to quarrel about. It was
opposition that forced Jefferson Davis to appeal to arms.
True, the following of this idea would dwarf the Republicans
into pygmies, and exalt the Democracy into giants. My misguided
friend, Wendell Phillips, would shrink into a commonplace
man, possibly he would lose all manhood, had he been
compelled to agree with Franklin Pierce or hold his tongue.
It would be bad for Wendell, but there would have been a
calm as profound as stagnation itself. Our present system
may be bad for women, but we, the men, have our own way —
and peace. Our wives and daughters are, I know, driven,
from sheer lack of something greater, to take refuge in disjointed
gabble of bonnets, cloaks, and dresses, and things of
that nature, their souls are dwarfed as well as their bodies,
their minds are diluted — but we have peace.

Once more. It would unbalance society. Starting upon
the assumption that women have no minds of their own, and
would always be controlled by men, we can show wherein the
privilege would work incalculable mischief. Imagine Brigham
Young marching to the polls at the head of a procession of wives
one hundred and seventy-three in number, all of them with

such ballots in their hands as he selects for them! Put
Brigham and his family in a close congressional district and
he would swamp it. Then, again, if they should think for
themselves, and vote as they pleased, they would overthrow
Brigham. In either case the effect would be terrible.

What shall we do with the woman question? It is upon us,
and must be met. I have tried for an hour to be a conservative,
but it won't do. Like poor calico, it won't wash. There
are in the United States some millions of women who desire
something better than the lives they and their mothers have
been living. There are millions of women who have minds and
souls, and who yearn for something to develop their minds
and souls. There are millions of women who desire to have
something to think about, to assume responsibilities, that they
may strengthen their moral natures, as the gymnast lifts
weights to strengthen his physical nature. There are hundreds
of thousands of women who have suffered in silence
worse evils by far than the slaves of the South, who, like the
slaves of the South, have no power to redress their wrongs,
no voice so potent that the public must hear. In the parlor,
inanity and frivolity; in the cottage, hopeless servitude,
unceasing toil; a dark life, with a darker ending. This is
the condition of woman in the world to-day. Thousands starving
physically for want of something to do, with a world calling
for labor; thousands starving mentally, with an unexplored
world before them. One half of humanity is a burden
on the other half.

I know, O, ye daughters of luxury, that you do not desire a
change. There is no need of it for you. Your silks could
not be more costly, your jewels could not flash more brightly,
nor your surroundings be more luxurious. Your life is pleasant
enough. But I would compel you to think, and thinking,
act. I would put upon your shoulders responsibilities
that would make rational beings of you. I would make you
useful to humanity and to yourselves. I would give the
daughters of the poor, as I have helped to give the sons
of the poor, the power in their hands to right their own
wrongs.

There is nothing unreasonable in this demand. The change

is not so great as those the world has endured time and again
without damage. To give the ballot to the women of America
to-day, would not be so fearful a thing as it was ten years ago
to give it to the negro, or as it was a hundred years ago to
give it to the people.

I would give it, and take the chances. The theory of
Republicanism is, that the governing power must rest in the
hands of the governed. There is no danger in truth. If the
woman is governed, she has a right to a voice in the making
of laws. To withhold it is to dwarf her, and to dwarf woman
is to dwarf the race.

I would give the ballot to woman for her own sake, for I
would enlarge the borders of her mind. I would give it to
her for the sake of humanity. I would make her of more use
to humanity by making her more fit to mould humanity. I
would strengthen her, and through her the race. The ballot
of itself would be of direct use to but few, but indirectly its
effects would reach through all eternity. It would compel a
different life. It would compel woman to an interest in life,
would fit her to struggle successfully against its mischances,
and prepare her for a keener, higher, brighter appreciation of
its blessings. Humanity is now one-sided. There is strength
on the one side and weakness on the other. I would have
both sides strong. I would have the two sides equal in
strength, equally symmetrical; differing only as nature made
them, not as man and custom have distorted them. In this
do we outrage custom? Why, we have been overturning
customs six thousand years, and there are yet enough hideous
enormities encumbering the earth to take six thousand years
more to kill. In the beginning, when force was the law, there
were kings. The world tired of kings. There were false
religions. Jesus of Nazareth overturned them. Luther
wrecked a venerable system when he struck the church of
Rome with his iron hand; your fathers and mine stabbed a
hoary iniquity when they overturned kingcraft on this continent,
and Lovejoy, Garrison, and Phillips struck an institution
which ages had sanctioned when they assaulted slavery. The
old is not always the best.

I would have your daughters fitted to grapple with life

alone, for no matter how you may leave them, you know not
what fate may have in store for them. I would make them
none the less women, but stronger women, better women. Let
us take this one step for the sake of humanity. Let us
do this much towards making humanity what the Creator
intended it to be, — like Himself.