A long drawn sigh flattered from the trembling lips of Imelda while
Margaret’s face glowed with excitement equaled only by that of the
speaker. When the excitement which followed had abated somewhat, the
presiding officer rose and again his strong, clear, but pleasant, voice
was heard. Almost instantly the profoundest quiet reigned. His handsome
face had caught something of the general excitement and he carelessly
threw back the black locks that clustered about the open brow.
“Friends and comrades,” said he. “You have listened to the discourse of
a noble woman, on a most important subject. A noble woman, because she
dares to assert her womanhood; dares to assert the _I_. She dares to fly
in the face of custom, in the face of power. She dares to point out
where evils lie hidden. Dares to show you where the curse of poverty
stalks; where its birth place is, side by side with that of vice and
crime. She has pointed out glorious possibilities for those who may dare
in the present to provide a way to secure the rightful inheritance of
the many. And to judge by the applause you have accorded to her you have
rightly understood and justly appreciated her. But notwithstanding this
appreciation we know that not all our friends agree with our lecturer,
and so, in accord with our custom we will now hear what others have to
say. We invite you, one and all, to take part in this debate, and let us
know what your views are. ‘Free discussion’ is our motto at these
meetings.—”
The chairman resumed his seat and an expectant hush fell upon the
assemblage. One, two minutes passed; then arose a gentleman upon whom
the snows of many winters had fallen, to judge by hair and beard, but
whose general appearance otherwise did not show old age. His
business-like, “Mr. Chairman,” had a pleasant sound, while general
attention was now directed toward him.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “courtesy would at any time demand of
me that I treat ladies with the greatest respect, yet the lady who today
has entertained us, and who has given us the benefit of her intelligence
and knowledge of humanity, has not told us all the causes of the
trouble. I must pay her the compliment to say that she understands how
to handle her subject. I too have observed many instances of despairing
young girls who sacrifice themselves by selling themselves for life, or
for an hour, in order to obtain the means wherewith to make brighter the
declining pathway of some loved one. I have known cases wherein the
betrayed, outraged maiden had given her trusting love in vain, and was
then driven to seek an untimely grave. In the homes of the wealthy it is
a well known fact that love seldom enters. With environments which ought
to bless the unborn generations decay and degeneracy is even more marked
than among the poorer classes, since among the latter love does often
take by the hand the maiden and lover to join them together, and, for a
while at least, hovers over the pair. Often one child, and sometimes
more, is the result of loving union. But where only sordid gain is the
object of marriage the fruits must of necessity be of an inferior order.
To my mind, this evil, this marriage evil, is the worst of all evils.
Instead of the home being the birth place and cradle of love and truth
and peace, it is the hot-bed, the breeding place of vice. The unwelcome
child incarnates the germs of disease, of vice and crime. The
dissatisfied mother implants in her offspring abnormal desires and
passions because her own desires have been dwarfed and disregarded. Thus
the enslaved mother sows the seeds of tyranny in her child. It matters
not if such a home be one of plenty or want. One breeds the roue, the
other the criminal of the future. I only wish to state here that so long
as the people bow to an ‘unknown God’; a God who is supposed to rule
somewhere up among the stars, in a place called heaven; a God who will
punish those who have been truer to nature than to the impossible
teachings of the church, by burning them in everlasting fire, and so
long as the people sustain a state or government that holds them in
bondage; a state to which they must pay tribute for every privilege they
enjoy, even unto the privilege of choosing a mate; so long as the
credulous people pay tribute to the parasites called politicians who
fasten themselves wherever they can find a foothold, just so long must
we continue to endure the evils portrayed by the last speaker. So long
as labor is a slave to capital, so long as the workingman is but an
irresponsible part of the machinery that produces wealth for the few,
just so long will woman be a slave to man, and just so long will
children be a curse instead of a blessing, and just so long will crime
and disease stalk abroad. The workingman must first strike for and gain
his freedom. Then the emancipation of woman will follow. I have nothing
farther to say.”
Amid appreciative applause the man of many winters resumed his seat.
Next arose a man with snapping black eyes and jetty hair who with
cutting sarcasm dissected the lecture, telling his hearers that in
ninety-nine cases out of a hundred all the poverty, the ill-luck, was
due to the man or woman’s own fault. “The working people,” said he, “as
a class, are lazy; they are extravagant; they are vicious. They would
rather spend their leisure time in saloons, swilling beer and poor
whiskey, and in playing cards, than with their families at home; they
would rather lounge and loaf upon street corners than do an honest day’s
work; they would rather follow a course that would lead them to steal,
and even murder, and thereby get them into the penitentiary where they
would be only too well treated. If it were not for the church who with
her gentle and peace-diffusing influence keeps the working classes in a
measure content, and under control, there would be no telling to what
deeds of outrage the ignorant, licentious masses of people would go.
Take away the influence of religion and what would be the result?
Without fear of a god or devil, like a brutal horde of wild beasts with
nothing to restrain them, they would fall to murdering and plundering
everything and everyone that stood in their way, regardless of
consequences, just so they could satisfy their ungovernable appetites.”
The only thing this man could think of that could be done was to make
more laws; laws more stringent and binding. Then enforce them to the
letter.
“We speak of loose morals,” said he. “Could there be anything more loose
than the ideas of marriage that are fast becoming popular? There are
almost as many divorces petitioned for and granted as marriages entered
into. Divorces are too easily obtained. The laws are too lax. If such
were not the case people would be more careful in entering the holy
portals of marriage. But there are so few that any longer consider
marriage as something holy that it is becoming a menace to the country.
Again I ask for more laws. Let them be stringent and let them be rigidly
enforced. Let those that are forming such contracts and entering into
the bonds of marriage, understand that it is for life, that there is no
escaping the consequences, and then people will get along better.”