CHAPTER I

Personal Reminiscences of a Great Crusade

By JOSEPHINE E. BUTLER

_NEW EDITION_

DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF

SIR JAMES STANSFELD

LONDON

HORACE MARSHALL & SON

1910

BUTLER & TANNER

THE SELWOOD PRINTING WORKS

FROME AND LONDON

Introduction

Our long years of labour and conflict on behalf of this just cause,

ought not to be forgotten. A knowledge of, and a reverence for, the

principles for which we have striven ought to be kept alive, for these

principles are very far from being yet so clearly recognised as that our

children and our children’s children may not be called upon to rise

again and again in their defence.

SECOND EDITION, 1898.

The system that Mrs. Butler and her coadjutors so successfully combated

in England, still exists in various parts of the British Empire and of

the Continent of Europe, and in Japan and South America. Enactments

similar in principle also threaten from time to time this country and

the United States of America.

NEW EDITION, 1910.

Prefatory Biographical Note

A very charming _Autobiographical Memoir_ of Mrs. Butler has been edited

by George W. and Lucy A. Johnson, and may be obtained for 6_s._ through

any bookseller, or from the publishers, Arrowsmiths of Bristol, or

Simpkin Marshall of London. This memoir consists mainly of extracts from

Mrs. Butler’s published works. We are indebted to it for the following

facts:—

In an introduction to the Memoir in question, the Rt. Hon. James Stuart,

her warm personal friend, and fellow-worker for many years, thus

describes her personality: “She was at home in every class of society.

She was very beautiful, and of a very gracious presence, and the

impression made by first seeing her and hearing her voice has, I expect,

been forgotten by none who ever met her. She was of a very artistic

temperament. She was a good painter, an extremely good musician. She was

a bold rider, and active, though always of a somewhat weak health. Her

industry and application were unbounded. She was very full of humour,

and, while deeply in earnest, had the faculty of being at times

charmingly gay. She dressed with great taste and simplicity. She, above

all things, loved her home and her husband, and that love was wholly

returned. She was extremely cosmopolitan. At the same time she was a

great lover of her own country, and particularly of the borderland

between England and Scotland, where she was born, and where she now lies

buried in the churchyard of Kirknewton, where many of her ancestors lie.

For she came of an old Border family; and bravery, and the alertness of

battle, and the power of self-sacrifice, and the indignation against

wrong which characterized her, came to her, perhaps, partly through her

descent. She was a great reader of the Bible, and a humble suppliant

before the throne of God. But, while her own beliefs were clear and

definite, she had no narrowness in her views, and the very names of

those who have been her foremost supporters show how wide her sympathies

were, and how acceptable she was to people of all creeds, as well as of

all politics and all climes.”

Josephine Elizabeth Grey was born at Milfield Hill, in the county of

Northumberland, on April 13, 1828. She was the fourth daughter of John

Grey, and of his wife Hannah Annett. John Grey’s ancestors were wardens

of the East Marches, and Governors of Norham, Morpeth, Wark, and Berwick

Castles in the old Border days, from whom are also descended the

Tankervilles and the Greys in the House of Lords.

John Grey was appointed to the charge of the great Greenwich Hospital

Estates in Northumberland in 1833, and as a pioneer in the scientific

improvement of waste lands, turned it into a very valuable property.

Mrs. Butler says of this period, “Our home at Dilston was a very

beautiful one. Its romantic historical associations, the wild informal

beauty all round its doors, the bright, large family circle, and the

kind and hospitable character of its master and mistress, made it an

attractive place to many friends and guests. Among our pleasantest

visitors there were Swedes, Russians, and French, who came to England on

missions of agricultural or other enquiry, and who sometimes spent weeks

with us. It was a house the door of which stood wide open, as if to

welcome all comers, through the livelong summer day. It was a place

where one could glide out of a lower window and be hidden in a moment,

plunging straight amongst wild wood paths and beds of fern, or find

one’s self quickly in some cool concealment, beneath slender birch

trees, or by the dry bed of a mountain stream. It was a place where the

sweet hushing sound of waterfalls, and clear streams murmuring over

shallows, were heard all day and night, though winter storms turned

those sweet sounds into an angry roar.”

John Grey was a man of wide and deep sympathies, and besides being a

great influence for good in his own immediate neighbourhood, was a

personal friend and fellow-worker of Clarkson in the Abolition of the

Slave Trade. His daughter speaks of “his large benevolence, his tender

compassionateness, and his respect for the lights and liberties of the

individual man. His life,” she says, “was a sustained effort for the

good of others, flowing from these affections. He had no grudge against

rank or wealth, no restless desire for change for its own sake, still

less any rude love of demolition; but he could not endure to see

oppression or wrong of any kind inflicted on man, woman, or child. ‘You

cannot treat men and women exactly as you do one-pound notes, to be used

or rejected as you think proper,’ he said in a letter to _The Times_,

when that paper was advocating some ill-considered changes, beneficial

to one class, but leaving out of account a residue of humble folk upon

whom they would entail great suffering. In the cause of any maltreated

or neglected creature he was uncompromising to the last, and when

brought into opposition with the perpetrators of any social injustice he

became an enemy to be feared.”

Mrs. Butler’s mother was also a fine character, and warmly seconded the

efforts of her husband for the general good. She was descended from a

Huguenot family.

As Mrs. Butler grew into young womanhood the sad and tragical recitals

which came to the family from first sources of the wrongs inflicted by

slavery on negro men and women “broke,” she says, “her young heart,” and

keenly awakened her feelings, especially “concerning the injustice to

women through this conspiracy of greed and gold, and lust of the flesh,

a conspiracy which has its counterpart in the white slave-owning in

Europe.”

“For one long year of darkness,” she says, “the trouble of heart and

brain urged me to lay all this at the door of the God, whose name I had

learned was Love. I dreaded Him, I fled from Him, until grace was given

me to arise and wrestle, as Jacob did, with the mysterious Presence, who

must either slay or pronounce deliverance. And then the great

questioning again went up from earth to heaven, ‘God! Who art Thou?

Where art Thou? Why is it thus with the creatures of Thy hand?’ I fought

the battle alone, in deep recesses of the beautiful woods and pine

forests around our home, or on some lonely hill-side, among wild thyme

and heather, a silent temple where the only sounds were the plaintive

cry of the curlew, or the hum of a summer bee, or the distant bleating

of sheep. For hours and days and weeks in these retreats I sought the

answer to my soul’s trouble and the solution of its dark questionings.

Looking back, it seems to me the end must have been defeat and death had

not the Saviour imparted to the child-wrestler something of the virtue

of His own midnight agony, when in Gethsemane His sweat fell like great

drops of blood to the ground.”

The next stage in the preparation of Mrs. Butler for her great

world-wide work was her marriage in 1852 to a man of singularly noble

character, George Butler, son of the Dean of Peterborough. It was in

this year that the portrait was taken which appears on the cover of this

work. The first five years of their married life were spent at Oxford,

where Mr. Butler did important work in the University, as tutor,

examiner and lecturer. Here they met many leading people, and Mrs.

Butler says, “In the frequent social gatherings in our drawing-room in

the evenings there was much talk, sometimes serious and weighty,

sometimes light, interesting, critical, witty, and brilliant, ranging

over many subjects. It was then that I sat silent, the only woman in the

company, and listened, sometimes with a sore heart, for these men would

speak of things which I had already revolved deeply in my own mind,

things of which I was convinced, which I knew, though I had no

dialectics at command with which to defend their truth.

“Every instinct of womanhood within me was already in revolt against

certain accepted theories in society, and I suffered as only God and the

faithful companion of my life could ever know. Incidents occurred which

brought their contribution to the lessons then sinking into our hearts.

A young mother was in Newgate for the murder of her infant, whose

father, under cover of the deathlike silence prescribed by Oxford

philosophers, a silence which is in fact a permanent endorsement of

injustice, had perjured himself to her, had forsaken and forgotten her,

and fallen back, with no accusing conscience, on his easy social life,

and possibly his academic honours. I wished to go and speak to her in

the prison of the God who saw the injustice done, and who cared for her.

My husband suggested that we should write to the chaplain of Newgate,

and ask him to send her to us when her sentence had expired. We wanted a

servant, and he thought that she might be able to fill that place. She

came to us. I think she was the first of the world of unhappy women of a

humble class whom he welcomed to his own home. She was not the last.”

In 1857 Mr. Butler accepted the post of Vice-Principal of Cheltenham

College. Here Mrs. Butler met with a terrible trial in the sudden death

by accident, of her only little daughter Evangeline, in the year 1864.

This was followed by a long period of darkness and intense depression of

spirits, which was only dispelled by visiting amongst the four thousand

poor women in the jails and workhouses of Liverpool, where she sat

amongst them and picked oakum, until she gained their confidence. Her

husband had previously taken the Principalship of Liverpool College,

following the celebrated Dr. Howson, who vacated it to take the position

of Dean of Chester. The result of her work here was, she says, “to draw

down upon my head an avalanche of miserable, but grateful womanhood.”

She first of all filled the basement and attics of her house with “as

many as possible of the most friendless girls who were anxious to make a

fresh start.” This becoming inconvenient, a “House of Rest” was started,

which continued for many years, and was finally taken over by the town

as a municipal institution.

1864 was the date of the commencement of the last stage of the

preparation of Mrs. Butler for her great life-work of attacking and

undermining the world-wide evil of State regulated vice. 1864 was

likewise the date of the introduction of State regulated vice into

England, which was the last of the countries of Europe to adopt it, as

it was also the first, in 1886, to abolish it. Mrs. Butler’s part in the

great Abolitionist Struggle is detailed in the following pages in her

own words.

Mrs. Butler lived the last few years of her life at Wooler, near

Milfield, the place of her birth. There she died peacefully in her

sleep, on December 30, 1906, and was buried in the churchyard at

Kirknewton, where many of her ancestors had been buried.

The editors of her biography conclude, “Surely we may say of her, but

very slightly altering the words of Bunyan: As she drew nigh unto the

beautiful gate of the City, she asked, ‘What must I do in the Holy

Place?’ and the shining ones answered, ‘Thou must there receive the

comfort of all thy toil, and have joy for all thy sorrow; thou must reap

what thou hast sown, even the fruit of all thy prayers and tears, and

suffering for the King by the way. There also thou shalt serve Him

continually, whom thou desiredst to serve in the world, though with much

difficulty because of the infirmity of thy flesh. There thine eyes shall

be delighted with seeing, and thine ears with hearing, the pleasant

voice of the Mighty One. There thou shalt enjoy thy friends again, that

are gone thither before thee; and there thou shalt with joy receive even

every one that follows into the Holy Place after thee.’ As she entered

in at the gate, then I heard in my dream that all the bells in the City

rang again for joy, and that it was said unto her, ‘Enter thou into the

joy of thy Lord.’”

CHAPTER I

ORIGIN OF THE SYSTEM OF STATE REGULATION OF VICE

“Our fathers to their graves have gone,

Their strife is past—their triumph won;

But sterner trials wait the race

Which rises in their honoured place—

A moral warfare with the crime

And folly of an evil time.”

“So let it be. In God’s own might

We gird us for the coming fight,

And, strong in Him whose cause is ours,

In conflict with unholy powers,

We grasp the weapons He has given—

The light, and truth, and love of Heaven.”

The late Professor Emile de Laveleye, at our International Conference at

the Hague, in September, 1883, gave some account of the inauguration of

this system, which took its rise in France under the auspices of

Napoleon I. The system was first suggested by Aulas in 1762, and by

Restif de la Bretonne in 1790. It was brought into full operation on the

eve of the establishment of the French Empire in 1802. “It could only

have had its birth,” said Professor de Laveleye, “at a period of

disturbance, when the rights of human dignity and individual liberty

were forgotten or misunderstood. History, in recounting the saturnalia

of vice in Asia Minor, in Greece, and especially in Imperial Rome,

narrates horrors which cause us to shudder. But never, either in Rome,

or in Athens, or even in Corinth, was the spectacle witnessed of public

abodes of shame kept open by the State. Juvenal paints Messalina gliding

thither under cover of night. But even Heliogabalus never constituted

himself their patron as nowadays do the Municipal and State authorities

of our Christian communities in the full sunshine of the 19th century.”

Then the same accomplished speaker, in a very forcible address, showed

what the legalising of vice has been and has produced in all those

nations which, following the example of France, have adopted it. “It has

been the source of profound disorders, both moral and physical: of moral

disorders, by destroying the aversion which vice should inspire, and

thereby strengthening its power; of physical disorders, by exciting

incontinence, and all its concurrent evils, with proffered facilities

and promises of immunity.”

I shall have occasion later to draw attention to the different dates and

methods in which this system was introduced into the several countries

of Europe. England was the last country in which it found a foothold.

When, in 1872, I was summoned to give evidence before a Royal Commission

to inquire into this question, I stated on the authority of Mrs. Harriet

Martineau and other venerable writers and politicians, a fact which has

never been contradicted in any way, _i.e._, than an attempt was made

during the Melbourne Ministry to introduce this Parisian system into

England. It was deemed impossible, however, to place such an Act of

Parliament in the hands of a young virgin Queen for signature, and the

attempt was dropped. There was a renewed endeavour during the life of

the Prince Consort, but this was also abandoned, from the knowledge that

was obtained of the Prince’s distinct disapproval of this Continental

system. Prince Albert died, and it was during the first year of Queen

Victoria’s widowhood, when she was presumably absorbed in her private

grief, that the promoters of this system in England succeeded in pushing

an Act through Parliament, and obtaining for it the Royal signature.

There were four Acts; the first, tentative, in 1864. This was repealed

when the Act of 1866 was passed, and this, after verbal amendment in

1868, was still further extended by the Act of 1869. This last Act was

not allowed much peace, for it was in the autumn of the same year that

the opposition arose; in fact, a powerful protest had been raised

shortly before the passing of this complete Act. Mrs. Harriet Martineau,

with all the shrewdness and enlightenment of a true woman and an able

politician, had seen the tendency of a certain busy medical and military

clique in this direction. The then editor of the _Daily News_, who was

favourable to our views, asked Mrs. Martineau to write a series of

letters in his paper. This she did, and her letters are extremely

weighty, and wonderful to read at this day, when we have an immense

accumulation of evidence to support her and our views, which she, of

course, did not possess. Her advice on this matter concerning our army

is admirable. Speaking of our poor soldiers, she says:—“But while

favouring the element of brutality in him (the soldier), we had not need

go further and assume in practice that his animalism is a necessity

which must be provided for. This is the fatal step which it is now hoped

that the English Parliament and the English people may be induced to

take. If the soldier is more immoral than his contemporaries of the

working class, it must be because the standard of morality is lower in

the army than out of it. Shall we then raise it to what we clearly see

it might be, or degrade it further by a practical avowal that vice is in

the soldier’s case a necessity to be provided for, like his need of food

and clothing? This admission of the necessity of vice is the point on

which the whole argument turns, and on which irretrievable consequences

depend. Once admitted, the necessity of a long series of fearful evils

follows of course. There can be no resistance to seduction, procuration,

disease, regulation, _when once the original necessity is granted_.

Further, the admission involves civil as well as military society, and

starts them together on the road which leads down to what moralists of

all ages and nations have called the lowest hell.... It is a national

disgrace that our people should have even been asked to regard and treat

their soldiers and sailors as pre-destined fornicators.” And in another

of her letters to the _Daily News_ Mrs. Martineau, writing of her

experience of Continental cities, said: “There is evidence accessible to

all that the Regulation System creates horrors worse than those which it

is supposed to restrain. Vice once stimulated by such a system imagines

and dares all unutterable things. And such things perplex with misery

the lives of parents of missing children in Continental cities, and

daunt the courage of rulers, and madden the moral sense, and gnaw the

conscience of whole orders of sinners and sufferers, of whom we can form

no conception here. We shall have entered upon our national decline

whenever we agree to the introduction of such a system.”

We, the women of England, were not the first to arise in opposition to

this iniquity. For at least fifteen years before our call to the work,

warning lights had been held out from time to time by persons or

societies who thoroughly knew the system, and dreaded the disastrous

effects for our country of its establishment in our midst.

A group of Baptist and other Nonconformist Ministers, in which my

relative, the late Charles Birrell, took a leading part, early went to

the Government, conveying an earnest warning and protest on the subject.

I cannot fix the exact date of this event; but I have a vivid

recollection of the account of it given to me by Mr. Birrell. I believe

it was during the Administration of Lord John Russell.

In 1860 a Committee of the House of Lords sat to consider the question

of introducing the Acts for the regulation of vice into India, or

establishing a more complete form of Acts already existing there. The

majority of the witnesses examined by that Committee were wholly opposed

to the system. Miss Florence Nightingale was one of those witnesses. Her

recorded evidence and expression of opinion are lengthy, and exactly

what we might expect from a true-hearted and an experienced woman. Lord

Frederick FitzClarence, Commander-in-Chief of the forces in India, said

that “after giving the whole subject his best attention, he concurred

with his predecessors in command of the army in believing that police

measures of the kind in question could not be carried on without

involving the certain degradation and oppression of many innocent women,

and occasioning other evils which, in his opinion, would be very much

greater than that which it was their object to remedy.” Dr. Grierson (of

the Indian Army) said that when the natives of India saw the authorities

making such careful provision for the protection of immoral persons, and

at the same time doing little for the good of the other classes, they

were “sorely perplexed.” General Jacob said: “The proper and only wise

method of dealing with this question is to improve the condition and

moral well-being of the army. Coercion of any kind always increases the

evil. Moral forces alone are of any value.”

A third strong protest was that of the officers of the Rescue Society in

London. They made a series of very strong efforts against the threatened

introduction of the regulation system.

The late Mr. Daniel Cooper, the well-known and respected Secretary of

the Rescue Society, wrote to me in 1870: “You ask me to tell you what

the Rescue Society did to bring this infamous legislation under public

notice. In 1868 we published a pamphlet and waited on the Home

Secretary. With the pamphlet we presented a copy of a ‘Memorandum of

Objections’ to this legislation. This Memorandum was circulated by

thousands. We placed it in the hands of every member of both Houses of

Parliament; we forwarded it to all the principal clergy of the

Metropolis and other important towns in England, and also to the leading

Nonconformist ministers. We spent more than £100 in the circulation of

our papers, and with what result? I am ashamed to say that very little

effect was produced. The utmost apathy prevailed; people would not

believe our words and would not stir. The infamous Act of 1869 was

passed in spite of all our efforts.

“At this crisis we learned that the _Women_ of England were taking this

question in hand. We were rejoiced beyond measure when we saw the

announcement of your Ladies’ National Association.

“I tell you candidly I had felt an almost utter despair in seeing that,

after putting forth our pamphlet, and writing thousands of letters,

imploring our legislators, clergy, principal public men and

philanthropists to look into the question, such a stoical indifference

remained. We felt, on hearing of your Association, that Providence had

well chosen the means for the defeat of these wicked Acts. The ladies of

England will save the country from this fearful curse; for I fully

believe that through them it has even now had its death blow. The men

who charge the ladies foremost in the struggle with indelicacy are not

worthy the name of men. As to our Members of Parliament, pray do not

excuse their ignorance; do not try to palliate their error by saying the

Act was passed at the fag end of the session. The papers placed in their

hands by ourselves, the letters of warning we addressed to them, leave

them no excuse. Knowing, as none but ourselves can know, what was done

to arouse them, I cannot but conclude that, with a few honourable

exceptions, our Members of Parliament cared nothing about the matter

until public opinion forced them to look into it. But for the Ladies’

National Association we should have had no discussion, and the Acts

would by this date have probably been extended throughout the country. I

say this solemnly, and from an intimate knowledge of all the plans of

the Association formed to extend these Acts. Go on; give the country no

rest till this law is abolished.—Yours truly, DANIEL COOPER.”

The names of Dr. Charles Bell Taylor and Dr. Worth, of Nottingham, must

be gratefully remembered, for it was to those gentlemen that we, the

women of England, owed our first clear information of the nature and the

passing of the Act of 1869. I had been on the Continent with my family

in that year, and had been learning much there concerning the disastrous

effects of this system. On the journey home I found a telegram awaiting

me at Dover, begging an interview, and this was followed by a somewhat

mysterious appeal from these alert friends at Nottingham to “haste to

the rescue.” In a few days the whole state of the case was put before me

and a small group of friends. No organised action, however, was taken by

us until the close of December of that year. In fact, there was much

preparation of heart, nerve, and mind necessary for such a task as was

now opening out before us. It was not a thing to be taken up hastily.

Meanwhile, in September of this same year (1869), some other watchful

friends had taken occasion of the Social Science Congress meeting at

Bristol to introduce again a strong warning note, or rather now a

protest, against the legislation in question. The Rev. Dr. Hooppell, of

Northumberland, Mr. George Charleton, of the Society of Friends, and Mr.

Banks, afterwards for so many years the able and indefatigable secretary

of the National Association, proved themselves on this occasion already

well-armed and staunch advocates of the abolition movement, of which

they themselves were amongst the earliest initiators. They formed there

a local association, which was afterwards merged into the National

Association, which had its office in London.

I have already, in the “Recollections of George Butler,” recorded

sufficiently my own and my husband’s first call to this great work, the

inward preparation for which had been going on for many years

previously. I have spoken there of the horror, the dismay we felt on the

first full knowledge that this iniquity had been established by law in

England, of the weeks of self-questioning and hesitation which followed

for myself, of the tardy but firm resolution at last formed to imitate,

if I may use the simile, the example of Quintus Curtius of old Roman

fame, and to leap into this yawning gulf in order that the nation’s

wound might close again. But this Roman hero, I had read, met his fate

fully equipped, armed from head to foot, fearless, and in the perfection

of self-renunciation. I felt that, for such an enterprise, I should

require nothing less than “the whole armour of God.” I have recorded

also in that hook the noble and unselfish part which my husband took

from the beginning in this warfare; and to some extent I there also

indicated the sacrifices he made, and the anxieties he silently endured

for many years, after he had spoken to me that momentous word (to me a

consecration for the work), “Go, and the Lord be with you.”

This word was spoken after we had conferred fully together on the action

we should adopt, and after our conclusion that we must make an immediate

appeal to the great public.

Many persons, honestly judging the matter from the outside, have

mistakenly imagined that the persecution which had to be endured, the

ridicule by which we were constantly assailed in the Press, the social

ostracism, the coldness of many who had before been friends and

companions, the obloquy, false accusations, abuse and violence,

continued for years, must have been the greatest of the trials incident

to the part we were called to take in so dreadful an enterprise. So far

as my own experience bears witness, those who judge so are mistaken.

These things were for me light and easy to bear in comparison with the

deep and silent sorrow, the bitterness of soul of the years which

preceded. I recall those years of painful thinking, and of questionings

which seemed to receive no answer and to be susceptible of no solution;

those years in which I saw this great social iniquity (based on the

shameful inequality of judgment concerning sexual sin in man and woman)

devastating the world, contentedly acquiesced in, no great revolt

proclaimed against it, a dead silence reigning concerning it, a voice

feebly raised perhaps now and again, but quickly rebuked and silenced.

The call to action, the field of battle entered, with all its perils and

trials clearly set out before us, were a joyful relief, a place of free

breathing, compared with the oppression and the heart-woe which went

before.

Those alone who have trod the silent and secret “way of Calvary” will

fully understand me. Those who have not may well think the discipline of

being traduced, slandered, threatened, and “spitefully entreated” a very

hard discipline. But one who has endured the deeper and keener spiritual

discipline, when there seemed no escape, no ray of hope, must regard the

outward persecution and violence only as a welcome sign that the battle

is set in array, and that the enemy is roused to bitterest hatred

because his claims are disputed and his sovereignty is about to be

overthrown. The inward sorrow I believe to have been necessary for the

vitalising of righteous action, and the insuring of depth, reality and

constancy.

On the 1st January, 1870, was published the famous Women’s Protest, as

follows:

“We, the undersigned, enter our solemn protest against these Acts.

“1st.—Because, involving as they do such a momentous change in the legal

safeguards hitherto enjoyed by women in common with men, they have been

passed, not only without the knowledge of the country, but unknown, in a

great measure, to Parliament itself; and we hold that neither the

Representatives of the People, nor the Press, fulfil the duties which

are expected of them, when they allow such legislation to take place

without the fullest discussion.

“2nd.—Because, so far as women are concerned, they remove every

guarantee of personal security which the law has established and held

sacred, and put their reputation, their freedom, and their persons

absolutely in the power of the police.

“3rd.—Because the law is bound, in any country professing to give civil

liberty to its subjects, to define clearly an offence which it punishes.

“4th.—Because it is unjust to punish the sex who are the victims of a

vice, and leave unpunished the sex who are the main cause, both of the

vice and its dreaded consequences; and we consider that liability to

arrest, forced medical treatment, and (where this is resisted)

imprisonment with hard labour, to which these Acts subject women, are

punishments of the most degrading kind.

“5th.—Because, by such a system, the path of evil is made more easy to

our sons, and to the whole of the youth of England; inasmuch as a moral

restraint is withdrawn the moment the State recognises, and provides

convenience for, the practice of a vice which it thereby declares to be

necessary and venial.

“6th.—Because these measures are cruel to the women who come under their

action—violating the feelings of those whose sense of shame is not

wholly lost, and further brutalising even the most abandoned.

“7th.—Because the disease which these Acts seek to remove has never been

removed by any such legislation. The advocates of the system have

utterly failed to show, by statistics or otherwise, that these

regulations have in any case, after several years’ trial, and when

applied to one sex only, diminished disease, reclaimed the fallen, or

improved the general morality of the country. We have, on the contrary,

the strongest evidence to show that in Paris and other Continental

cities where women have long been outraged by this system, the public

health and morals are worse than at home.

“8th.—Because the conditions of this disease, in the first instance, are

moral, not physical. The moral evil through which the disease makes its

way separates the case entirely from that of the plague, or other

scourges, which have been placed under police control or sanitary care.

We hold that we are bound, before rushing into experiments of legalising

a revolting vice, to try to deal with the _causes_ of the evil, and we

dare to believe that with wiser teaching and more capable legislation,

those causes would not be beyond control.”

This Protest was published in the _Daily News_, and the fact of its

appearance was flashed by telegram to the remotest parts of the Kingdom.

The local press largely reproduced it. Among the two thousand signatures

which it obtained in a short time there were those of Florence

Nightingale, Harriet Martineau, Mary Carpenter, the sisters and other

relatives of the late Mr. John Bright, all the leading ladies of the

Society of Friends, and many well-known in the literary and

philanthropic world.

A pause ensued, a silence on the part of our opponents and undecided or

critical lookers on, induced by the first shock of this unexpected and

powerful manifesto. A member of Parliament, fully sympathetic with us,

said to me: “Your manifesto has shaken us very badly in the House of

Commons; a leading man in the House remarked to me, ‘We know how to

manage any other opposition in the House or in the country, but this is

very awkward for us—this revolt of the women. It is quite a new thing;

what are we to do with such an opposition as this?’”

But this temporary pause was succeeded by signs of much agitation and

business among our opponents in preparation for an organised stand

against our attitude and claims; and simultaneously was inaugurated the

great “Conspiracy of Silence” in the press, which continued unbroken

until the autumn of 1874, when a well-known Ex-Cabinet Minister spoke

powerfully at a public meeting on our behalf. After this one occasion,

however, the press, as if by common consent, fell back into its old

attitude of silence. This silence could not be in most cases attributed

to a regard for the feelings of readers, for statements in favour of the

Acts were continually admitted. We had, however, great encouragement

from many and often unexpected parts of the world.

Many persons on the Continent, working for social reforms, were even

then rejoicing in the trumpet-blast which had been sounded from England,

in open opposition to this vicious system. We had inaugurated a line of

action to the continuance of which we were pledged by sacred duty in

regard to the hopes which it had awakened throughout Europe.

Amongst the reforms which, it was hoped, would be aided by the present

agitation was one connected with the army, in the substitution of some

better system of national defence than that of a military army of

celibates, kept as a distinct class, and demoralized by unnatural

provisions, supposed to be needful for their exceptional existence.

The purification of the medical profession was also hoped for, and the

exposure and defeat of those deadly materialist doctrines respecting the

necessity of unchastity, which had been secretly and widely promulgated,

and which, together with the dogmatism and despotism of certain doctors,

had begun to exercise so fatal an influence over our legislative

counsels. The condition of the womanhood of our country for some time

past we often compared with that of the afflicted woman of whom we read

in the Gospels, of whom it was said, “She had endured many things of

many physicians,” and that she grew no better, but rather worse. The

afflicted woman alluded to, approaching the person of the great

Spiritual Physician, was healed by the touch of faith. A similar faith

was coming to the succour of the womanhood of the present day. Their

hearts were lifted up to God, with whom are the issues of life and

death, and they were taught to scorn the perversions of physicians who,

in the supposed interests of the body, trampled under foot the claims of

decency and the inalienable rights of every woman, chaste or unchaste,

over her own person. God would henceforth, we trusted, place His gifts

of healing in holy hands, and say to the poor afflicted womanhood of

this day, “Daughter, be of good cheer.”

The purification we hoped for was already indicated by the fact that,

among the men who gradually rallied around us in this cause, from all

ranks and all professions, pure-hearted physicians were among the

foremost, both in action and in indignant denunciation of the theories

and practices which we abhorred.

Not many weeks after the publication of our Protest, Mr. Gladstone, then

Prime Minister, received a Memorial from women of Geneva on the subject;

a beautiful and distinct echo from afar of our own cry for justice.

Even earlier than this, more than one sympathetic voice reached us from

Paris itself, the birthplace of the evil thing against which we were

allied.

Victor Hugo wrote:—

“PARIS, _March 20, 1870_.

“I am with you, madame and ladies. I am with you to the fullest extent

of my power. In reading your eloquent letter, I have felt a burning

sympathy rise in me for the feeble, and a corresponding indignation

against the oppressor. France is apparently about to borrow from England

an evil institution, that of chamber executions—legal murders done

behind closed doors; and, in her turn, England prepares to adopt from

France a detestable system, that, namely, of a police dealing with women

as outlaws. Protest! resist! show your indignation! All noble hearts and

all lofty spirits will be on your side. The slavery of black women is

abolished in America, but the slavery of white women continues in

Europe; and laws are still made by men in order to tyrannise over women.

Nothing more hateful could be seen than the sight to-day—France copying

the feudalism of England, and England reproducing the medical tyranny of

Paris. It is a rivalry of retrogression—a miserable spectacle. It

disgraces justice in France, and the Executive power in England. Publish

this letter if you think fit, and be assured of my earnest sympathy and

respect.

“VICTOR HUGO.”

From Mazzini, to a member of our Ladies’ Association:—

“ITALY, _February, 1870_.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,—

“Can you doubt me? Can you doubt how eagerly I watch from afar, and how

heartily I bless the efforts of the brave, earnest British women who are

striving for the extension of the suffrage to their sex and for the

repeal of the vice-protecting Acts, which last question is but an

incident in the great general question of justice to women?

“Is your question less sacred than that of the abolition of slavery in

America, or of serfdom elsewhere? Ought it not to be even more sacred to

us—in reverence for our mothers,—and if we remember that the most

important period of human life—the first—is entrusted to women?

“Are not all questions of equality mere baseless rebellion, unless they

are derived from an all-embracing religious principle? and is not that

principle—(the oneness of the human family)—the soul of your country’s

religion?

“Have the men who deny the righteousness of your claims abjured that

religion, or forgotten the holy words of Jesus and of Paul:—

“‘Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe

on Me through the Word.’

“‘That they all may be one; as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in Thee,

that they also may be one in us.’—John xvii. 20, 21.

“‘For ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus.’

“‘There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there

is neither male nor female, for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.’—Epistle

Galatians iii. 26, 28.

“Do they tell you these words apply to heaven? Ask them Who has taught

them to pray that _God’s will be done on earth as it is in heaven_?

“No question such as yours ought to be solved without asking _how far

does the proposed solution minister to the moral education of society_?

The sense of self-dignity, the deep conviction that each of us has a

task to fulfil on earth, for our own improvement and that of our

fellow-creatures, is the first step in all education. We are bound to

start by teaching all whom we seek to educate the words you quoted; _you

are a human being: nothing that concerns mankind is alien to you_. If

you crush in man his innate sense of self-respect, you decree the helot.

If you sanction moral inequality to any extent, you either create

rebellion, with all its evils, or indifference, hypocrisy and

corruption. If you punish the accomplice, leaving the sinner untouched,

you destroy, by arousing the sense of injustice, every beneficial result

of punishment. If you assume the right to legislate for any class,

without allowing that class voice or share in the work, you destroy the

sacredness of law, and awaken hatred or contempt in the heart of the

excluded class.

“In these simple obvious principles lies the justice of your claims.

“In this legislation lies—forget it not—the germ of a moral disease far

more terrible than the physical evil they thus brutally and impotently

endeavour to ‘stamp out’; this first step backwards, taken in selfish

fear, will, if not speedily retraced, be followed by others, until the

moral sore neglected will become a cancer infecting the very life-blood

of your nation.

“In the moral principles I have stated you will conquer. Your cause is a

religious one. Do not narrow it down to what is called a right or an

interest. Let duty be your ground, both in protecting your unhappy

sisters and in urging your political claims. You are children of God.

You have the same duty to perform on earth—the progressive discovery and

the progressive fulfilment of His law. You cannot renounce that task

without sinning against the God who appointed it, and gave to you, as to

us, faculties and powers for its accomplishment.

“You cannot fulfil your task without _liberty_, which is the source of

responsibility. You cannot fulfil it without _equality_, which is

liberty for each and all.

“Your claim to the suffrage is identical with that of the working men.

Like them, you seek to bring a new element of progress to the common

work; you feel that you, too, have something to say, not merely

indirectly, but legally and officially, with regard to the great

problems which stir and torture the soul of mankind.

“As for the special cause of which you write, the repeal of these

hideous Acts, you will succeed. You have in your House of Commons men

whom surely no giant despair of physical disease can turn aside from the

straight path of principle and justice; but even if these should fail

you, which I do not believe, you have your people. Your working men have

shown us, during the Lancashire famine, how _they_ can feel for the

down-trodden and oppressed. Appeal to them. I have lived long enough in

England to know what their answer would be.

“_I am, Dear Friend, Yours_,

“GIUSEPPE MAZZINI.”

Personal reminiscences of a great crusade · 第 1 / 10 章