THE CONGRESS OF WOMEN.
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well enough for a parlor album plunges into an exhibit, and dreams of fame through her art, and one with the faintest faculty for situation dashes off a novel which is to bring her name very near to that of George Eliot. While I sincerely, deeply sympathize with every reform which tends to afford a fair field for exertion for those women who are forced to select for themselves a trade or profession, I deprecate everything that allures those who possess the inestimable privilege of a home to desert their fittest sphere of action. You will smile, Kate, when I say that the manhood of man must suffer some loss when woman has appropriated a portion of it; for its nobler attributes are created and evoked by the duty and privilege of ministering to her wants, and fortifying and protecting her. I believe woman is a complement, not a substitute, for man. Is it, my Kate, so beneath the glory of a woman to be one whose society is sought with avidity by the opposite sex, whose most ardent champions are men, at whose bidding men are prompt to respond, and in whose companionship men seem to find peculiar happiness? A woman whose husband will think her adorable, it matters little whether her eyes be large or light, small or dark, her features classic or irregular, whether her tongue be eloquent or she be given to silence, she hides within her being that subtle something which emphasizes the fact that men have some rights which women are bound to respect. I can not express it better than to say that, while she is restful, at the same time she coaxes out ambitions which we never dreamed were ours. She seems to have the grace of leisure. She is never too busy. She would inject a little bit of duncehood into our American life—into this restless desire for study. If she be fortunate enough to possess children, she assimilates the spirit of the age and interprets it to them, and in them evolution seems to take strides swift and sure and forward. Should we give small credit to her who has kept holy and watered with the rain of deep feeling this acrid, dusty highway of civilization, and instructed her nature so that it will bring forth beautiful June blossoms?
“ * Happy he!
With such a mother; faith in womankind Beats with his blood, and truth in all things high Comes easy to him, and though he trip and fall,
He shall not blind his soul with clay! ’
“You spoke, Kate, of securing woman’s alleviating presence in the rude scenes of republicanism. I suppose you have reference to her participation in politics. History tells us that when the contrast between the sexes has been least marked, the tenderer one does not seem to have gained purity or the physically stronger elevation. The Spartan maids who exercised in public unrobed, did not always, as Plato fondly hoped, wear virtue for a garment. The mothers of the Partheniaes doubtlessly acted from patriotism, but less strong-minded women would have considered their honor paramount. The idea of marriage, of the natural choice of each other by one man and one woman, to unite and form one separate family, seems to be as naturally implanted in the human race as does the idea of language or religion, and if the family is one as the United States government is one, then it would be as absurd to send two representatives to the polls as it would be to send two representatives or ministers to Great Britain to act on their individual responsibilities. So long as a woman elects her own husband, and she can sometimes take her choice out of several candidates, it is her own fault if she is not properly represented.’’
“ And have American women, whether married or single, any vital share or interest in this grand free government of ours?'’ asked Kate.
“ With all the emphasis of a profound conviction I answer, yes. Such a touching and intimate interest as no women ever had before in any government under the sun, because the principles embodied in it and represented by it have made her what she is, and they alone can make her what she hopes to be. If it be true that the position of woman in society is a sure test of its civilization, then is our America in the van of progress. Nowhere else in the world is the ideal of womanhood so chivalrously