Mr. Lister paused a moment in the narration of a story to which I had
listened with absorbing interest, and then said:
“Ah me, that was eight years ago.”
“Eight years ago?” I exclaimed, “what a long courtship!”
“It did not seem long to us. We had both discovered from much
observation of our married friends that courtship was the true elysium
in every one’s life, and a far happier state than marriage. Noting this
we asked each other why we should not prolong this happy season. In it
we realised that each was to the other a delightful and never-ending
mystery. We saw that in courtship we had a feeling of deep reverence
for each other which was almost wholly wanting among married people.
In courtship we each felt that love was generous condescension in the
other. I did not feel that I was at all worthy of her, and she did not
feel that she was worthy of me. We were inexpressibly sacred objects in
each other’s eyes, and above all things we desired to remain so.
“Besides, to tell the truth, we saw some terribly dark spots in
marriage from which we shrank as from the contemplation of the slimy
things in a pool. It seemed ‘filled with the habitations of cruelty!’
She confided to me that she had a schoolmate, a dear friend, who had
been married a few years before. She was a radiant, fragrant being,
fitted by every gift of Nature to shed light and perfume, joy and
laughter wherever she went. But alas, she was not physically adapted
to the fearful treadmill of enforced maternity. After twice becoming
a mother and barely escaping the ordeal with her life, she was
warned that another risk of that kind would undoubtedly have a fatal
termination. And this innocent, helpless being, with a sword hanging
over her bright young life, went on her way scattering gentle words and
loving deeds along her blackly shadowed path. But O, the pity of it!
the sword fell. Within a year she was a martyr to the fearful Moloch
which yawns continually over woman’s life. She escaped by death from
a life so fraught with cruel suffering, so filled with unutterable
indignities, that the wonder is that woman did not strike long ago!
“In the ecstasy of our love Allegra Alliston and I vowed that we would
never take part in a system that permitted such unspeakable cruelty. We
chose rather to enjoy the quiet pleasures of courtship and be satisfied
with them.”
“And yet,” said I, “you had decided to get married. You said that
Miss Alliston was preparing her wedding-dress at the time of the
commencement of the Strike.”
“Oh,” said Mr. Lister, “the great discovery of Zugassent opened up a
manner of life by which married people could preserve their sacred
reverence for each other, and make the state of courtship a perpetual
one. When we saw that we could enter into the joys of marriage without
ravaging each other like wild beasts, we had no longer any reason for
not doing so. We decided to get married at once.”
“But,” said I, as soon as I could speak, “you talk as though I knew
all about Zugassent and his discovery, when in fact I never heard of
either.”
“Why,” said Mr. Lister, “it was the wonderful discovery of Zugassent
that emboldened the women to strike, and gave a logical basis for
their movement. Before that discovery was made, much as they desired
the Magna Charta which they are now asking, they were reasonable, and
scarcely saw how man could give it. The problem seemed too deep and
intricate for any possible solution. But when Zugassent’s discovery was
made, they saw that it took away from man all excuse for withholding
this right. They demanded it at once.”
At this fresh promise of an utterly unlooked-for revelation, I felt a
despairing kind of anger. Could this be the same world in which I had
for thirty-five years lived a sober and commonplace life? Mr. Lister
had already, in the few days which I had spent with him, dazed me and
amazed me with the stunning character of the intelligence which he had
conveyed to me. Did he wish to craze me also? Unconsciously I put my
hand to my head and stared at him in helpless, pathetic reproach. But
he did not appear to be conscious of my feelings. At last when I had
mastered myself enough to speak calmly, I said:
“I wish that you would tell me all about Zugassent and his discovery.
I have been trying to find out the causes of this singular Strike, and
now I hear for the first time that it was assisted by a great discovery
about which I am entirely ignorant. I entreat you to tell me who
Zugassent was and what was his discovery?”
“Zugassent,” said Mr. Lister, and his lip quivered, and a sudden
moisture sprang into his eyes as he spoke, “was a pure and noble soul
who believed that everything that was of human interest was worthy of
conscientious, painstaking study, and that everything which involved
human happiness or misery was a legitimate field for honest effort for
improvement. The appalling sum of misery resulting to woman from the
present system of marriage, and indirectly to men and children as well
through the too great division of the means of subsistence, filled his
heart with a divine compassion. It is said that his attention was first
called to this subject by observing the suffering of his own wife.
That he should be the cause of producing such unavailing suffering
became a source of deep disquietude to him. He resolved rather than to
pursue a course so fraught with evil to woman, to return to the simple
relations of courtship. He fondly loved his wife, but he had firmly
decided to content himself with the purely Platonic and spiritual
pleasures of her society. Being, however, a natural thinker and a man
of studious tastes and habits, he could not help revolving the problem
in his thoughts, much wondering at its mind-baffling character. The
more he pondered the matter the more was he struck with the astounding
anomaly presented by this scientific age. He saw that the explorer, the
discoverer and the pioneer were pushing their caravans and wagon-trains
into every unmapped land on the globe, and steering their barks into
every unknown sea. Applauded by the world, they were daring the
burning fevers of Central Africa, and leaving their bones for others
as determined discoverers to find in the frozen regions of the North
Pole. He saw that in the domain of Science, and Art, and Invention an
innumerable host of patient, earnest workers and thinkers, lured on by
the highest rewards which Earth could offer, were burning midnight oil
in an agonizing search after improvement. Consuming brain and nerve
with unremitting and profligate energy, these toilers after newer and
better ways were fast robbing the earth of all its material secrets.
Even in Religion the rock-bound creeds of hoary churches were being
diligently revised and unscrupulously altered to adapt them to the
new light of a refulgent present. Everywhere there was light, change,
improvement, discarding the old and adopting the newer and better,
except in the social relation of man and woman. This alone remained,
not, indeed, unquestioned, but unexplored and unimproved, the one
stationary fixture of an obsolete and decrepit past. Zugassent saw
with absolute and increasing wonder that none of the new light which
was flooding the world was allowed to penetrate this dark Continent. A
superstition as black, as unreasoning, as utterly inconsistent as that
which compelled Galileo to retract his affirmation about the earth’s
motion, shrouded this dark Continent and forbade any student to set
foot therein. No matter how pure the motive, no matter what misery it
was sought to alleviate, the leperous cry, ‘Unclean! Unclean!’ was
ready to be raised at any one who should seek to direct some of the
unstinted light of a marvellous age into this dark domain of ignorance
and injustice. To be sure, every one freely acknowledged that black and
mephitic vapours were continually arising from this great uncleared
land. Every one marvelled that it could be so enveloped in darkness,
when there was life and light, change and improvement continually going
on about it. The wailing which came from this dark Continent was a
source of continual commiseration on the part of every one, and the
recitals of the heartrending cruelties, the pestilential scandals, and
the shameful deeds that were enacted in this dark country, and which
far exceeded those of Siberia, constituted a large and staple part of
the intelligence of the newspapers. An age which boasted that it could
foretell its weather, and measure the stars, and girdle the earth,
was supinely and superstitiously content to let the relation between
man and woman remain an unstudied and unimproved part and parcel of
a benighted and slave-driving past! As if beyond anything else that
concerned mankind, his relations to woman, next to his relation to
his Creator, were not the most important, the most deserving of free
scientific and conscientious research, and the one supreme improvement
for which the world’s highest premiums should be offered.”
There was a choking sound in Mr. Lister’s throat. He seemed like one
about to weep. But he continued,
“Zugassent saw all this. He fully realized that the man who
conscientiously gave his mind to the study of these problems, who
honestly sought to illumine this great department of human life
with some of the light which was being prodigally shed elsewhere,
would be reviled and misunderstood. He knew that the impure would
call him impure, and that the thoughtless would jeer at him. He knew
that many good people, still somewhat bound by the fast-failing
chains of superstition, would suspect his motives, and would deem
any investigation of this subject unlawful. Nevertheless, Zugassent
determined that in no other field of human interest was discovery and
improvement so wofully and pitifully lacking, and that though for the
present his name might be covered with obloquy, future generations
would respect his effort if this did not. He therefore resolved, with
all the desperate earnestness of a man who is preparing to take leave
of his home and friends forever, to light his humble torch and go alone
into the murky caverns of this dark Continent. He would, if possible,
open some part of it to the light of day. He did so, and his beneficent
discovery, but just beginning to be made known, has placed him at the
very head of those who have honestly and successfully toiled for the
betterment of the human race.”
“And Zugassent’s discovery?” said I, eagerly. But the rays of the
morning sun were bursting in at the window. It was broad daylight.
Mr. Lister arose. His face was wet with tears. “My dear Mr. Carford,”
said he, “have you forgotten that to-day is Sunday, and that we are to
witness the woman’s parade this afternoon? It is absolutely necessary
that we should take some rest before that. I will give you Zugassent’s
book and let him speak for himself.”
I went to my room and lay down upon the rug. As I passed along the
hall I heard Mr. Lister singing the snatches of a song as he prepared
himself to rest; and as I drifted into sleep, it was with the words of
his song running in my mind:
Love lingers not where sorrow dwells,
She cannot bide the downcast face;
Where laughter rings like golden bells
Is Love’s abiding place.
Love follows those, though seeming vain,
Who gild life’s path with faith and hope;
She smiles on those who smile again,
Not on the misanthrope.
Love smiles on those who smile again,
Not on the misanthrope.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]