"I see that you're befogged, my little woman,
Chasing this ignis fatuus of the day!
Leave it, and settle down as woman should.
What has been always, must be to the end.
Always has woman been subordinate
In mind, in body, and in power, to man.
Let rhetoricians rave, and theorists
Spin their fine webs,—bow you to holy Nature,
And plant your feet upon the eternal fact."
"The little lifetime of the human race
You call—eternity! The other day
One of these old eternal wrongs was ended
Rather abruptly; yet good people thought
'Twas impious to doubt it was eternal.
Because abuses have existed always,
May we not prove they are abuses still?
If for antiquity you plead, why not
Tell us the harem is the rule of nature,
The one solution of the woman problem?"
"Does not St. Paul—"
"Excuse me. Beg no questions.
St. Paul to you may be infallible,
But Science is so unaccommodating,
If not irreverent, she'll not accept
His ipse dixit as an axiom.
Here, in our civilized society,
Is an increasing host of single women
Who do not find the means of livelihood
In the employments you call feminine.
What shall be done? And my reply is this:
Let every honest calling be as proper
For woman as for man; throw open all
Varieties of labor, skilled or rough,
To woman's choice and woman's competition.
Let her decide the question of the fitness.
Let her rake hay, or pitch it, if she'd rather
Do that than scrub a floor or wash and iron.
And, above all, let her equality
Be barred not at the ballot-box; endow her
With all the rights a citizen can claim;
Give her the suffrage;[7] let her have—by right
And not by courtesy—a voice in shaping
The laws and institutions of the land.
And then, if after centuries of trial,
All shall turn out a fallacy, a failure,
The social scheme will readjust itself
On the old basis, and the world shall be
The wiser for the great experiment."
"But is sex nothing? Shall we recognize
No bounds that Nature clearly has defined,
Saying, with no uncertain tone, to one,
Do this, and to the other, Do thou that?
The rearing of young children and the care
Of households,—can we doubt where these belong?
Woman is but the complement of man
And not a monstrous contrariety.
Co-worker she, but no competitor!"
"All true, and no one doubts it! But why doubt
That perfect freedom is the best condition
For bringing out all that is best in woman
As well as man? Free culture, free occasion,
Higher responsibility, will make
A higher type of femininity,
Ay, of maternal femininity,—
Not derogate from that which now we have,
And which, through laws and limitations old,
Is artificial, morbid, and distort,
Except where Nature works in spite of all.
'Woman is but the complement of man!'
Granted. But why stop there? And why not add,
Man, too, is but the complement of woman?
And both are free! And Nature never meant,
For either, harder rule than that of Love,
Intelligent, and willing as the sun."
"Ah! were men angels, women something more,
Your plan might work; but now, in married life,
One must be absolute; and who can doubt
That Nature points unerringly to man?"
"Then Nature's pointing is not always heeded.
Marriage should be a partnership of equals:
But now the theory would seem to be,
Man's laws must keep the weaker sex in order!
Man must do all the thinking, even for woman!
I don't believe it; woman, too, can think,
Give her the training and the means of knowledge.
'O no!' cries man, 'the household and the child
Must claim her energies; and all her training
Must be to qualify the wife and mother:
For one force loses when another gains,
Since Nature is a very strict accountant;
And what you give the thinker or the artist,
You borrow from the mother and the wife.'
With equal truth, why not object to man
That what he gives the judge or politician
He borrows from the husband and the father?
The wife and mother best are qualified
When you allow the woman breadth of culture,
Give her an interest in all that makes
The human being's welfare, and a voice
In laws affecting her for good or ill.
To 'suckle fools and chronicle small beer'
Is not the whole intent of womanhood.
Even of maternity 'tis not the height
To produce many children, but to have
Such as may be a blessing to their kind.
Let it be woman's pure prerogative,
Free and unswayed by man's imperious pleasure
(Which now too often is her only law),
To rule herself by her own highest instincts,
As her own sense of duty may approve,—
Holding that law for her as paramount
Which may best harmonize her whole of nature,
Educe her individuality,
Not by evading or profaning Nature,[8]
But by a self-development entire."
"Enough, enough! Let us split hairs no longer!
You hold a crumpled letter in your hand;
You know the writer; you esteem, respect him;
And you've had time to question your own heart.
What does it say? You blush,—you hesitate,—
That's a good symptom. Now just hear me out:
If culture is your aim, how opportune
A chance is this! Affluence, leisure, study!
Would you help others? He will help you do it.
Is health an object? Soon, exempt from care,
Or cheered by travel, shall you see restored
Your early bloom and freshness. Would you find
In love a new and higher life? You start!
Now what's the matter? Do not be a fool,—
A sentimentalist, forever groping
After the unattainable, the cloudy.
Come, be a little practical; consider
Your present state: look on that row of nails
Recipient of your wardrobe; see that bonnet,
All out of fashion by at least a month;
That rusty water-proof you call a cloak;
Those boots with the uneven heels; that pair
Of woollen gloves; this whole absurd array,
Where watchful Neatness battles Poverty,
But does not win the victory. Look there!
Would not a house on the great avenue
Be better than these beggarly surroundings?
Since you're heart-free, why not at once say Yes?"
"Sweet fluent tempter, there you hit the mark!
Heart-free am I, and 'tis because of that
You're not entirely irresistible.
Your plea is simply that which lends excuse
To the poor cyprian whom we pass in scorn.
I've done my utmost to persuade myself
That I might love this man,—in time might love:
But all my arguments, enforced by yours,
Do not persuade me. I must give it up!"