"There go thirty thousand men," shouted the Portuguese, as Wellington, with
a few staff-officers, rode along the mountain-side. The action of the
leaders' minds, in any direction, has a value out of all proportion to
their numbers. In a campaign there is a council of officers,--Grant and
Sherman and Sheridan perhaps. They are but a trifling minority, yet what
they plan the whole army will do; and such is the faith in a real leader,
that, were all the restraints of discipline for the moment relaxed, the
rank and file would still follow his judgment. What a few general officers
see to be the best to-day, the sergeants and corporals and private soldiers
will usually see to be best to-morrow.
In peace, also, there is a silent leadership; only that in peace, as there
is more time to spare, the leaders are expected to persuade the rank and
file, instead of commanding them. Yet it comes to the same thing in the
end. The movement begins with certain guides, and if you wish to know the
future, keep your eye on them. If you wish to know what is already decided,
ask the majority; but if you wish to find out what is likely to be done
next, ask the leaders.
It is constantly said that the majority of women do not yet desire to vote,
and it is true. But to find out whether they are likely to wish for it, we
must keep our eyes on the women who lead their sex. The representative
women,--those who naturally stand for the rest, those most eminent for
knowledge and self-devotion,--how do they view the thing? The rank and file
do not yet demand the ballot, you say; but how is it with the general
officers?
Now, it is a remarkable fact, about which those who have watched this
movement for twenty years can hardly be mistaken, that almost any woman who
reaches a certain point of intellectual or moral development will presently
be found desiring the ballot for her sex. If this be so, it predicts the
future. It is the judgment of Grant and Sherman and Sheridan as against
that of the average private soldier of the Two Hundredth Infantry. Set
aside, if you please, the specialists of this particular agitation,--those
who were first known to the public through its advocacy. There is no just
reason why they should be set aside, yet concede that for a moment. The
fact remains that the ablest women in the land--those who were recognized
as ablest in other spheres, before they took this particular duty upon
them--are extremely apt to assume this cross when they reach a certain
stage of development.
When Margaret Fuller first came forward into literature, she supposed that
literature was all she wanted. It was not till she came to write upon
woman's position that she discovered what woman needed. Clara Barton,
driving her ambulance or her supply wagon at the battle's edge, did not
foresee, perhaps, that she should make that touching appeal, when the
battle was over, imploring her own enfranchisement from the soldiers she
had befriended. Lydia Maria Child, Julia Ward Howe, Harriet Beecher Stowe,
Louisa Alcott, came to the claim for the ballot earlier than a million
others, because they were the intellectual leaders of American womanhood.
They saw farthest, because they were in the highest place. They were the
recognized representatives of their sex before they gave in their adhesion
to the new demand. Their judgment is as the judgment of the council of
officers, while Flora McFlimsey's opinion is as the opinion of John Smith,
unassigned recruit. But if the generals make arrangements for a battle, the
chance is that John Smith will have to take a hand in it, or else run away.
It is a rare thing for the petition for suffrage from any town to comprise
the majority of women in that town. It makes no difference: if there are
few women in the town who want to vote, there is as much propriety in their
voting as if there were ten millions, so long as the majority are equally
protected in their right to stay at home. But when the names of petitioners
come to be weighed as well as counted, the character, the purity, the
intelligence, the social and domestic value of the petitioners is seldom
denied. The women who wish to vote are not the idle, the ignorant, the
narrow-minded, or the vicious; they are not "the dangerous classes:" they
represent the best class in the community, when tried by the highest
standard. They are the natural leaders. What they now see to be right will
also be perceived even by the foolish and the ignorant by and by.
In a poultry-yard in spring, when the first brood of duckling's goes
toddling to the waterside, no doubt all the younger or feebler broods, just
hatched out of similar eggs, think these innovators dreadfully mistaken.
"You are out of place," they feebly pipe. "See how happy we are in our safe
nests. Perhaps, by and by, when properly introduced into society, we may
run about a little on land, but to swim!--never!" Meanwhile their elder
kindred are splashing and diving in ecstasy; and, so surely as they are
born ducklings, all the rest will swim in their turn. The instinct of the
first duck solves the problem for all the rest. It is a mere question of
time. Sooner or later, all the broods in the most conservative yard will
follow their leaders.