a brilliant meteor,--a youthful maiden, whose development of character
was as mystical as it was heroic. Joan of Arc was born of obscure
parents, in an obscure village on the borders of Lorraine, and was bred
in a school of simplicity. She possessed beauty, united with an amiable
temper and generous sympathies. In her religious faith she was sincere,
even angelic. Her love of country was ardent and irrepressible. Finding
her country-men distracted by a bitter partisan feeling, she identified
herself with the patriots, and desired to secure the coronation of
Prince Charles, as the only means, in her belief, of restoring the
authority of the legitimate government. The reigning king had become
hopelessly demented, and anarchy prevailed in almost every part of his
dominions.
The rival houses of Orleans and Burgundy were contending for the
supremacy, and had entered upon a career of murder and massacre, instead
of adopting a regular system of warfare. Both parties invoked the aid of
the English, who interfered in behalf of Burgundy; but instead of
affording relief, their interference only imposed still weightier
calamities on the country. At this crisis a prophecy became current
among the people, that a virgin would appear and rid France of her
enemies. This prophecy reached the ear of Joan of Arc, and inspired her
with the belief that she was the chosen one of Heaven to accomplish the
work.
In confirmation of this belief, she heard mysterious voices which came
to her in her dreams, and which she regarded as divine communications,
directing her to enter upon her great mission. On conferring with her
parents in relation to the matter, they advised her to abandon her mad
scheme, and desired her to marry and remain with them in her native
village; but she declined, insisting that the current
prediction--"France shall be saved by a virgin"--alluded to her. The
English army had already besieged Orleans, and all hope of saving the
city seemed lost. Her friends, regarding her as endowed with
supernatural powers, provided her with a war-horse and a military
costume, and sent her with an escort to the court of Prince Charles,
whom she had never seen, but whose cause she had espoused.
He received her with distrust, though he desired her proffered
assistance. In order to avoid being charged with having faith in
sorcery, he handed her over to a commission of ecclesiastics, to
ascertain whether she was inspired of Heaven, or instigated by an evil
spirit. Among other tests, the ecclesiastics desired her to perform
miracles. She replied, "Bring me to Orleans, and you shall witness a
miracle; the siege shall be raised, and Prince Charles shall be crowned
king at Rheims." They approved her project, and she received the rank
of a military commander.
She then demanded a mysterious sword which she averred had been
concealed by a hero of the olden time within the walls of an ancient
church. On search being made, the sword was found and delivered to her.
In a short time, with this mysterious sword in hand, she appeared at the
head of an enthusiastic army, within sight of the besieged city of
Orleans. The English army was astonished at the novel apparition. She
advanced, and demanded a surrender of the city, but was indignantly
refused; yet the citizens of Orleans were elate with joy at the prospect
of relief. Joan boldly assaulted the outposts, and carried them. The
besieged citizens, who had escaped outside the walls, now rallied under
her banner, and swelled the ranks of her army. Fort after fort was
captured. The English fought with desperation. Joan, cheering on her
brave forces, and calling on them to follow, seized a scaling-ladder,
and ascended the enemy's breastworks, when she was pierced with an arrow
in the shoulder, and fell into the fosse. Her undaunted followers
rescued her, when she, seeing her banner in danger, though faint and
bleeding, rushed forward, seized and bore it off in triumph. The English
army, amazed at this, and believing her more than human, became
panic-stricken, and retreated in confusion. In their flight they lost
their commander and many of their bravest men. Thus, in one week after
her arrival at Orleans, she compelled the English to abandon the siege.
In truth, she had performed a miracle, as her country-men believed, and
as she had promised the ecclesiastics she would do. For this brilliant
achievement she acquired the title, "Maid of Orleans."
In addition to this, she subsequently fought several severe battles with
the English and defeated them. Even the sight of her approaching banner
often terrified the enemy into a surrender. In less than three months
from the commencement of her career, she saw Prince Charles crowned king
at Rheims. In gratitude for her pre-eminent and timely services in his
cause, Charles issued his royal edict ennobling her and her family. Not
long after this, the opposing faction of King Charles captured the Maid
of Orleans, as she was now called, and imprisoned her in a strong
fortress. She attempted to escape by leaping the walls, but was secured
and transferred to the custody of the English. The University of Paris,
at the instance of dominant ecclesiastics, demanded her trial on the
charge of sorcery and the assumption of divine powers. The judges,
intolerant as the priests, condemned her to be burned at the stake. Her
friends were overawed, and failed to interfere in her behalf. The only
condition in her sentence was recantation and the acknowledgment of the
supremacy of the Church. In view of so terrific a death, she recanted;
but hearing the mysterious voices of her former dreams upbraid her, she
re-asserted her faith in her divine mission, was again seized at the
instance of the priesthood, and the cruel sentence of death at the stake
carried into execution.
Never did a sadder fate overtake an innocent, patriotic, and
noble-hearted woman. Her only crime was her love for her country, and
her contempt for ecclesiastical assumption. Her purity of life was never
questioned. It was said of her that she never allowed a profane word to
be uttered in her presence. Her religion was a religion of the heart,
too exalted for the times in which she lived. So sincere was the belief
of the populace in her sanctity that many persons made pilgrimages from
every part of the empire to touch her garments, believing that if they
could be allowed the privilege, they would be especially blest, both in
this life and in the life to come.
There was no woman of the sixteenth century, perhaps, who was more
conspicuous or more talented than Elizabeth, Queen of England. Highly
educated in the ancient and modern languages, as well as in philosophy,
she embraced at an early age the Protestant faith, and in consequence of
the religious jealousies of the times, encountered great opposition in
her advent to the throne, and while yet in her girlhood, suffered a long
imprisonment in the Tower by order of her sister Mary, who was at that
time the reigning queen. But events which transpired in 1558 resulted in
the elevation of Elizabeth to the throne, at the age of twenty-five. So
fearful were the Catholics of her influence in matters of faith that
they sent to her a distinguished ecclesiastic, who demanded from her a
declaration of her religious creed. To this intrusive demand she, being
an adept at rhyming, replied, impromptu,--
"Christ was the Word that spake it;
He took the bread and brake it;
And what that Word did make it,
That I believe and take it."
So frank and faultless was this avowal that it confounded the artful
priest, who, feeling rebuked, went away as wise as he came, if not a
little wiser.
In her personal appearance Elizabeth was stately and majestic, but by no
means remarkable for her beauty, or amiableness of temper. Her good
judgment and discrimination enabled her to call to her aid wise men for
ministers and counsellors. She patronized talent and intellect. It was
during her reign that Spenser, Shakespeare, Raleigh, Bacon, and other
eminent characters flourished, giving to her times and to literature the
distinction of the "Elizabethan age." The leading events of her reign
amply attest her capacity to grapple with emergencies in sustaining her
prerogatives and in maintaining the defiant attitude of England. She
loved money as well as power, and though penurious, wielded her power
with decision, crushed domestic rebellion at a blow, removed her fears
of Mary, Queen of Scots, by consigning her to the block, defied the
power of Spain, and with the timely assistance of a providential
whirlwind, sank the Spanish Armada in the depths of the sea.
Though unattractive, her charms induced sundry propositions of marriage,
particularly from the King of Sweden, from the King of Spain, and from a
young prince of France, twenty-five years younger than herself. For this
young prince, it is said, she entertained a sincere attachment, and went
so far as to place publicly on his finger a costly ring, as a pledge of
their union, but being taken soon afterwards by some strange
whimsicality, dismissed him, and thus gave him leisure to reflect on the
vanity of human aspirations. Yet, like most artful women, she delighted
in flirtations, and always retained in her retinue a few special
favorites, among whom were the Earls of Leicester and of Essex. On these
men she bestowed official positions of high rank, and evidently desired
to make great men of them; but Leicester proved to be deficient in
brains, and Essex turned traitor, and was finally executed.
When advised to marry by her counsellors, she replied that she could not
indulge such a thought for a moment, for she had resolved that the
inscription on her tombstone should be:
"Here lies a queen who lived and died a virgin."
In her seventieth year she died of grief, it is said, for having signed
the death-warrant of Essex, for whom she entertained a sincere yet
"untold love."
The events of her reign wrought great changes in the destinies of
nations. By her firm adherence to the Protestant faith, she contributed
much towards enlarging and strengthening the foundations of civil and
religious liberty. She succeeded by her wisdom and diplomacy in
circumventing the subtle machinations of rival powers. In few words, it
may be said of her that she was a noble specimen of _manly womanhood_.
Catherine I., Empress of Russia, was born of obscure parents, near the
close of the seventeenth century. In girlhood she was known by the name
of Martha, until she embraced the Greek religion, when her name was
changed to Catherine. Her father died when she was but three years old,
and left her to the care of an invalid mother in reduced circumstances.
When old enough to be useful, Catherine devoted her services to the care
and support of her mother, and in attaining to womanhood, grew to be
exceedingly beautiful. Her mother had instructed her in the rudiments of
a common education, which she afterwards perfected under the tuition of
a neighboring clergyman. Among other accomplishments, Catherine acquired
a knowledge of music and dancing, and soon became as attractive for her
elegance of manners as she was celebrated for her beauty.
In 1701, she married a Swedish dragoon, and immediately accompanied him
to the military post assigned him in the war which had just broken out
between Sweden and Russia. In a battle which soon followed, she was
taken prisoner by the Russians. Her personal charms soon attracted the
attention of Peter the Great. What became of her husband is not known,
but may be imagined. At any rate, the emperor succeeded in winning her
affections, acknowledged her as his wife, and placed the imperial
diadem on her head and the sceptre in her hand. She soon proved herself
to be a woman of wonderful tact, shrewdness, and judgment, and obtained
an unbounded influence over her husband. In fact, her advice controlled
his action; and in following it, he acquired the enviable and lasting
title of "Peter the Great." Like her, thousands of women have made their
husbands great men, and often out of very indifferent materials.
After Peter's death, Catherine was proclaimed empress and autocrat of
all the Russias. Her reign, though short, was brilliant. Her frailties,
if she had any, were few, and ought to be attributed to the character of
her favorites rather than to herself. She died at the early age of
forty-two, after a brief reign of a little less than two years as sole
empress. Her native endowments constituted her brightest
jewels,--modesty, simplicity, and beauty; it was these angelic gifts
which elevated her from the obscurity of rural life to the throne of a
great empire.
Here let us turn from the Old World to the New, and look into the
parlor, instead of the palace, for specimens of true womanhood. It is in
the private walks of life, in the domestic and social circles, that we
must look if we would contemplate the character of woman in its purest
and proudest development. It is in her daily exhibition of heart, soul,
sympathy, generosity, and devotion that woman attains to perfection and
crowns herself with a diadem. Everywhere in this great Republic are
thousands of women whose excellence of character challenges our
admiration. Among those who have passed into the better life, and whose
names are recorded on the tablet of every American heart, is Martha
Washington.
In her character we have the character of an accomplished American lady.
Few, if any, have ever excelled her. When the war of the Revolution
commenced, she accompanied her husband, who had just been appointed
commander-in-chief of the American armies, to the military lines about
Boston, and witnessed the siege and evacuation of that city. She was
ever the guardian spirit of the general, and aided him materially in his
military career by her wise counsels and timely attentions. While he
reasoned logically and deliberately, she came to logical conclusions
instantly, without seeming to reason,--a faculty of logic which
characterizes almost every woman.
In her figure, Martha was slight; in her manners, easy and graceful; in
her temper, mild yet cheerful; in her conversation, calm yet
fascinating; in her looks beautiful, especially in her youthful days.
So universally admired and respected was she, that everybody spoke of
her as "Lady Washington."
She did the honors of the presidential mansion with polished ease,
dignity, and grace. Her connubial life with Washington was not less
exemplary than it was happy. His regard for her was as profound as her
devotion to him was sincere. So solicitous was she for preserving his
good name and fame that immediately after his death, she destroyed all
the domestic letters which he had addressed to her, for fear they might
some day be published, and be found to contain some word or expression
of a political nature which might be construed to his prejudice.
Faithful as a wife, as a friend, and as a Christian, she proved herself
a model woman. She survived her husband but two years, and died at the
age of seventy. In life she occupied a position which queens might envy,
and in death bequeathed a memory which will be cherished in a nation's
heart, when the proud monuments of kings and queens have crumbled into
dust and been forgotten.
If it could be done without making invidious distinctions, it would be
no less delightful than instructive to refer specifically to the names
and deeds of many other American women who have graced the age in which
they lived, and added lustre to the annals of our Republic. But we must
content ourselves by alluding to them in general terms; and in doing
this, we must admit the fact that the noble deeds and exalted virtues of
woman occupy a much less space in the world's history than they ought.
It is sufficiently evident to everybody that women, in all the relations
of life, exhibit a keener appreciation of right and wrong than men.
Hence they are usually the first to approve what is right, and the last
to concur in what is wrong. It was this devotion to principle which
induced American women in the days of the Revolution to submit to the
severest trials and deprivations, while they encouraged their sons,
husbands, and brothers to go forth to the battle-field in defence of
their country. In proof of their patriotism, these noble women, with
their own hands and with cheerful hearts, spun, wove, knit, and baked
for the brave and suffering soldiers, and even made an offering of their
jewels on the altar of liberty, and rather than see the enemy enriched
by traffic and unjust revenues, complacently approved the policy which
cast rich cargoes of their favorite beverage into the depths of the sea.
It was the same spirit, the same patriotism, which inspired the women of
our own times on a still broader scale, in the late struggle of the
North to crush the rebellion of the South and sustain in all its purity,
its honor, and its glory, the dear old flag of the Union. This great
work has been done manfully and nobly, and at immense sacrifices of
treasure and of blood; but it could not have been done without the aid
and encouragement of woman. It was woman who held the key and unlocked
the hearts of twenty millions of people, and induced them, by her
pleading appeals, to pour out their noble charities, as from floodgates,
to supply the urgent needs of the largest and bravest army the world
ever beheld. It was woman whose delicate hand nursed the sick, the
wounded, and the dying soldier, and whose sympathies and prayers soothed
and cheered his departing spirit.
In the sanitary commission, in the Christian commission, woman was the
master-spirit, the angel of mercy, the music of whose hovering wings
animated the weary march of our gallant volunteers, and inspired their
souls with invincible courage. It is woman who weaves the only wreath of
honor which a true-hearted hero desires to wear on his brow, and the
only one worthy of his highest aspirations. It is an indisputable fact
that the power, the patriotism, and the influence of woman constitute
the great moral elements of our Republic, and of our civil and
religious institutions.
It is the educated and accomplished women of our country who have
refined the men as well as the youth of the land, and given tone to
public sentiment. It is this class of women who have purified our
literature, and moulded it to harmonize with the pure principles of a
Christian philosophy. In the fine arts, and even in the abstruse
sciences, women have excelled as well as men. In the catalogue of
distinguished authors there are to be found, both in this country and in
Europe, nearly as many women as men. From the facts which we have
already adduced, it is evident enough that woman, in the exercise of
intellectual, if not political power, is fully the equal of man; while
in tact and shrewdness she is generally his superior. According to the
old but truthful saying, it is impossible for a man to outwit a shrewd
woman; and instead of asking, What can a woman do? we should ask, What
is there a woman cannot do?
Whenever women are left to take care of themselves in the world, as
thousands are, they should not only have the right, but it is their
duty, to engage in any of the industrial pursuits for which they are
fitted. The principal difference between man and woman is physical
strength; and for this reason the lighter employments should be
assigned to women. In whatever employment men are out of place, women
should take their place; especially in retailing fancy goods, in
book-keeping, in telegraphing, in type-setting, in school-teaching, and
in many other like employments; nor need they be excluded from the
learned professions. In fact, we already have lady clergymen and lady
physicians; and some think the character of the Bar would be much
elevated by the admission of lady lawyers. We cannot doubt that
unmarried ladies, if admitted, would excel in prosecuting suits
commenced by "attachment," but in other cases their success is not
assured, if we may judge from the following incident: A lady lawyer of
presidential aspirations, in conducting a suit before the late Judge
Cartter in the district court at Washington, was opposed by an eminent
lawyer of the other sex, who raised a vexed legal question which had not
been "dreamed of in the philosophy" of the lady lawyer, and which so
perplexed her that she, in the midst of her embarrassment, appealed to
the judge for advice as to the course she had better pursue. The judge,
who hesitated somewhat in his utterances, replied, "I think you had
_bet-bet-better_ employ a lawyer."
If women choose to compete with men in any of the learned professions,
or in any other pursuit, and are fitted to achieve success, there is
nothing in the way to prevent them; yet it does not follow that they can
take the places of men in everything, especially in those employments
which require masculine strength and great physical endurance. Nor does
it follow that women who pay taxes should therefore have the right of
suffrage. The fact that they hold property does not change their
_status_, nor does it confer political rights.
The right of suffrage is a political right and not a natural right. The
exercise of this political right carries with it the law-making power,
the duty of protecting persons and property, and consequently of
maintaining and defending the government. They who make the government
are therefore bound to defend it. Nature never intended that women
should become soldiers and face the cannon's mouth in the battle-field;
nor did she give them strength to construct railroads, tunnel mountains,
build war-ships, or man them. Yet women, prompted by affection or
romantic sentiment, have been known to become soldiers in disguise, and
perhaps have fought bravely in the battle-field. But this, of itself,
proves nothing; it is merely an exception to a general rule, or in other
words, an eccentricity of character. In all ages of the world, as we
have shown, the mere force of circumstances has occasionally unsphered
woman and placed her in unnatural situations, in which she has sometimes
achieved a brilliant success,--on the throne and off the throne, in
peace and in war, in political life and in social life. Yet in stepping
out of her sphere, whatever may be her success, every true woman feels
that she "o'ersteps the modesty of nature."
When woman glides into her natural position,--that of a wife,--it is
then only that she occupies her appropriate sphere, and exhibits in its
most attractive form the loveliness of her character. Marriage is an
institution as essential to the stability and harmony of the social
system as gravity is to the order and preservation of the planetary
system. In the domestic circle the devoted wife becomes the centre of
attraction, the "angel of the household." Her world is her home; her
altar, the hearthstone. In her daily ministrations she makes herself
angelic by making home a heaven, and every one happy who may come within
the "charmed circle" of her kind cares and generous sympathies. In fact,
there is no place like home, "sweet home," when on its sacred altar
burns the blended incense of harmonious souls,--
"Two souls with but a single thought;
Two hearts that beat as one."
It is certain that man and woman were never created to live independent
of each other. They are but counterparts, and therefore incomplete until
united in wedlock. Hence they who prefer single blessedness are justly
chargeable with the "sin of omission," if not the "unpardonable sin." It
is difficult to estimate the fearful responsibilities of those
fossilized bachelors who persist in sewing on their own buttons and in
mending their own stockings. Yet these selfish gentlemen frankly admit
that there may have been such a thing as "true love" in the olden times,
but now, they say, the idea has become obsolete; and if a bachelor were
to ask a young lady to share his lot, she would immediately want to know
how large the "lot" is and what is its value. In further justification
they quote Socrates, who, being asked whether it were better for a man
to marry or live single, replied, "Let him do either and he will repent
it." But this is not argument, nor is it always true, even in a sordid
marriage, as appears in the following instance: Not long since, in New
York, a bachelor of twenty-two married a rich maiden of fifty-five, who
died within a month after the nuptials and left him a half-million of
dollars. He says he has never "repented" the marriage.