A WOMAN.
"Her face so fair, as flesh it seemed not,
But heavenly portrait of bright angels hew,
Clear as the skye withouten blame or blot,
Through goodly mixture of complexion's dew;
And in her cheeks the vermeil red did shew
Like roses in a bed of lillies shed.
* * * * *
In her faire eyes two living lamps did flame."
--SPENSER.
Thus far, I had seen no women. I was curious on this point, and I was
not kept long in suspense. Late in the afternoon of the day following
my arrival, Severnius and I went out to walk about the grounds, and
were returning through an avenue of eucalyptus trees,--of a variety
more wide-spreading in their branches than any I have seen in our
country,--when a person alighted from a carriage in the _porte
cochere_ and, instead of entering the house, came to meet us. It was a
woman. Though it was not left to her dress, nor her stature,--she was
nearly as tall as myself,--to proclaim that fact; her grace and
carriage would have determined her sex, if her beautiful face had not.
She advanced swiftly, with long, free steps. Her white dress, similar
in cut and style to ours, was relieved only by a girdle studded with
gems. She carried a little white parasol with a gold fringe, and wore
no head-gear to crush down her beautifully massed hair.
I felt myself growing red under her lively gaze, and attributed it to
my clothes. I was not accustomed to them yet, and I felt as you would
to appear before a beautiful woman in your night shirt. Especially if
you fancied you saw something in her eyes which made you suspect that
she thought you cut a ludicrous figure. Of course that was my
imagination, my apparel, in her eyes, must have been correct, since it
was selected from among his best by my new friend, who was
unmistakably a man of taste.
Her face, which was indescribably lovely, was also keenly
intelligent,--that sort of intelligence which lets nothing escape,
which is as quick to grasp a humorous situation as a sublime truth. It
was a face of power and of passion,--of, I might say, manly
self-restraint,--but yet so soft!
I now observed for the first time the effect of the pinkish atmosphere
on the complexion. You have seen ladies in a room where the light came
through crimson hangings or glass stained red. So it was here.
Severnius smiled, spoke, and gave her his hand. The glance they
bestowed upon each other established their relationship in my mind
instantly. I had seen that glance a thousand times, without suspecting
it had ever made so strong an impression upon me that in a case like
this I should accept its evidence without other testimony. They were
brother and sister. I was glad of that, for the reason, I suppose,
that every unmarried man is glad to find a beautiful woman
unmarried,--there are seductive possibilities in the situation.
Severnius did his best to introduce us. He called her Elodia. I
learned afterwards that ladies and gentlemen in that country have no
perfunctory titles, like Mrs., or Mr., they support their dignity
without that. It would have seemed belittling to say "Miss" Elodia.
I had a feeling that she did not attach much importance to me, that
she was half amused at the idea of me; a peculiar tilting-up of her
eyebrows told me so, and I was piqued. It seemed unfair that, simply
because she could not account for me, she should set me down as
inferior, or impossible, or ridiculous, whichever was in her mind. She
regarded me as I have sometimes regarded un-English foreigners in the
streets of New York.
She indulged her curiosity about me only for a moment, asking a few
questions I inferred, and then passed me over as though she had more
weighty matters in hand. I knew, later on, that she waived me as a
topic of conversation when her brother insisted upon talking about me,
saying half impatiently, "Wait till he can talk and explain himself,
Severnius,--since you say he is going to learn our speech."
I studied her with deep interest as we walked along, and no movement
or accent of hers was lost upon me. Once she raised her hand--her wide
sleeve slipped back and bared a lovely arm--to break off a long
scimeter-shaped leaf from a bough overhead. Quicker than thought I
sprang at the bough and snapped off the leaf in advance of her, and
presented it with a low obeisance. She drew herself up with a look of
indignant surprise, but instantly relented as though to a person whose
eccentricities, for some reason or other, might better be excused. She
did not, however, take the leaf,--it fluttered to the ground.
She was not like any other woman,--any woman I had ever seen before.
You could not accuse her of hauteur, yet she bore herself like a royal
personage, though with no suggestion of affecting that sort of an air.
You had to take her as seriously as you would the Czar. I saw this in
her brother's attitude toward her. There was none of that
condescension in his manner that there often is in our manner toward
the women of our households. I began to wonder whether she might not
be the queen of the realm! But she was not. She was simply a private
citizen.
She sat at the dinner table with us, and divided the honors equally
with Severnius.
I wish I could give you an idea of that dinner,--the dining-room, the
service, the whole thing! It surpassed my finest conceptions of taste
and elegance.
We sat down not merely to eat,--though I was hungry enough!--but to
enjoy ourselves in other ways.
There was everything for the eye to delight in. The room was rich in
artistic decorations upon which the rarest talent must have been
employed. The table arrangements were superb; gold and silver,
crystal, fine china, embroidered linen, flowers. And the food, served
in many courses, was a happy combination of the substantial and the
delicate. There was music--not too near--of a bright and lively
character. Music enters largely into the life of these people. It
seemed to me that something beat time to almost everything we did.
The conversation carried on between the brother and sister--in which I
could take no more part than a deaf-mute--was, I felt sure, extremely
entertaining if not important. My eyes served me well,--for one sense
is quick to assume the burdens of another,--and I knew that the talk
was not mere banter, nor was it simply the necessary exchange of words
and opinions about everyday matters which must take place in families
periodically, concerning fuel, and provisions, and servants, and
water-tax, and the like. It took a much higher range. The faces of
both were animated, their eyes beamed brightly upon each other. It was
clear that the brother did not talk down to her understanding, rather
he talked up to it,--or no, they were on a level with each other, the
highest level of both, for they held each other up to their best.
However, Elodia had been away for a couple of days, I learned, and
absence gives a bloom of newness which it is delightful to brush off.
I did not detect any of the quality we call chivalry in Severnius'
pose, nor of its complement in hers. Though one would hardly expect
that between brothers and sisters anywhere. Still, we have a way with
our near women relations which never ignores the distinction between
the sexes; we humor them, patronize them, tyrannize over them. And
they defer to, and exalt us, and usually acknowledge our superiority.
It was not so with this pair. They respected and honored each other
equally. And there was a charming _camaraderie_ between them, the same
as if they had both been men--or women, if you single out the right
kind.
They held widely different opinions upon many subjects, but they never
crowded them upon each other. Their tastes were dissimilar. For one
thing, Elodia had not her brother's fine religious sense. She seldom
entered the sanctuary, though once or twice I saw her there, seated
far apart from Severnius and myself.
Stimulated by the hope of some day being able to talk with her, and of
convincing her that I was a person not altogether beneath her
intelligence, I devoted myself, mind and soul, to the Paleverian
language. In six weeks I could read and write it fairly well.
Severnius was untiring in his teaching; and every day strengthened my
regard for him as a man. He was an accomplished scholar, and he was as
clean-souled as a child,--but not weakly or ignorantly so. He knew
evil as well as good; but he renounced the one and accepted the other.
He was a man "appointed by Almighty God to stand for a fact." And I
never knew him to weaken his position by defending it. Often we spent
hours in the observatory together. It was a glorious thing to me to
watch the splendid fleet of asteroids sailing between Jupiter and
Mars, and to single out the variously colored moons of Jupiter, and to
distinguish with extraordinary clearness a thousand other wonders but
dimly seen from the Earth.
Even to study the moons of Mars, the lesser one whirling round the
planet with such astonishing velocity, was a world of entertainment to
me.
I had begged Severnius not to ask me to see any visitors at all until
I could acquit myself creditably in conversation. He agreed, and I
saw no one. I believe that in those weeks of quiet study, observation,
and close companionship of one noble man, my soul was cleared of much
dross. I lived with books, Severnius, and the stars.
At last, I no longer feared to trust myself to speak, even to Elodia.
It was a great surprise to her, and evidently a pleasure too.
My first brilliant attempt was at the dinner table. Severnius adroitly
drew me into a conversation about our world. Elodia turned her
delightful gaze upon me so frankly and approvingly that I felt myself
blushing like a boy whom his pretty Sabbath-school teacher praises
with her smile when he says his text.
Up to that time, although she had been polite to me,--so entirely
polite that I never for a moment felt myself an intruder in her
home,--she apparently took no great interest in me. But now she
voluntarily addressed me whenever we met, and took pains to draw me
out.
Once she glanced at a book I was reading, a rather heavy work, and
smiled.
"You have made astonishing progress," she said.
"I have had the best of instructors," I replied.
"Ah, yes; Severnius has great patience. And besides, he likes you. And
then of course he is not wholly disinterested, he wants to hear about
your planet."
"And do you?" I asked foolishly. I wanted somehow to get the
conversation to running in a personal channel.
"O, of course," she returned indifferently, "though I am not an
astronomer. I should like to hear something about your people."
I took that cue joyfully, and soon we were on very sociable terms with
each other. She listened to my stories and descriptions with a most
flattering interest, and I soon found myself worshiping her as a
goddess. Yes, as a goddess, not a woman. Her entire lack of coquetry
prevented me from making love to her, or would have prevented me if I
had dared to have such a thought. If there could have been anything
tender between us, I think she must have made the advances. But this
is foolish. I am merely trying to give you some idea of the kind of
woman she was. But I know that I cannot do that; the quality of a
woman must be felt to be understood.
There was a great deal of social gayety in Thursia. We went out
frequently, to opera, to concert, and to crowded gatherings in
splendid homes. I observed that Elodia immediately became the centre
of interest wherever she appeared. She gave fresh zest to every
amusement or conversation. She seemed to dignify with her presence
whatever happened to be going on, and made it worth while. Not that
she distinguished herself in speech or act; she had the effect of
being infinitely greater than anything she did or said and one was
always looking out for manifestations of that. She kept one's interest
in her up to the highest pitch. I often asked myself, "Why is it that
we are always looking at her with a kind of inquiry in our
glances?--what is it that we expect her to do?"
It was a great part of her charm that she was not _blasé_. She was
full of interest in all about her, she was keenly and delightfully
alive. Her manners were perfect, and yet she seemed careless of
etiquette and conventions. Her good manners were a part of herself, as
her regal carriage was.
It was her unvarying habit, almost, to spend several hours down town
every day. I ventured to ask Severnius wherefore.
He replied that she had large business interests, and looked carefully
after them herself.
I expressed astonishment, and Severnius was equally surprised at me. I
questioned him and he explained.
"My father was a banker," he said, "and very rich. My sister inherited
his gift and taste for finance. I took after my mother's family, who
were scientists. We were trained, of course, in our early years
according to our respective talents. At our parents' death we
inherited their fortune in equal shares. Elodia was prepared to take
up my father's business where he left it. In fact he had associated
her with himself in the business for some time previous to his
departure, and she has carried it on very successfully ever since."
"She is a banker!" said I.
"Yes. I, myself, have always had a liking for astronomy, and I have
been employed, ever since I finished my education, in the State
Observatory."
"And how do you employ your capital?" I asked.
"Elodia manages it for me. It is all in the bank, or in investments
which she makes. I use my dividends largely in the interest of
science. The State does a great deal in that direction, but not
enough."
"And what, may I ask, does she do with her surplus,--your sister, I
mean,--she must make a great deal of money?"
"She re-invests it. She has a speculative tendency, and is rather
daring; though they tell me she is very safe--far-sighted, or
large-sighted, I should call it. I do not know how many great
enterprises she is connected with,--railroads, lines of steamers,
mining and manufacturing operations. And besides, she is
public-spirited. She is much interested in the cause of
education,--practical education for the poor especially. She is
president of the school board here in the city, and she is also a
member of the city council. A great many of our modern improvements
are due to her efforts."
My look of amazement arrested his attention.
"Why are you so surprised?" he asked. "Do not your women engage in
business?"
"Well, not to such an extraordinary degree," I replied. "We have women
who work in various ways, but there are very few of them who have
large business interests, and they are not entrusted with important
public affairs, such as municipal government and the management of
schools!"
"Oh!" returned Severnius with the note of one who does not quite
understand. "Would you mind telling me why? Is it because they are
incapable, or--unreliable?"
Neither of the words he chose struck me pleasantly as applied to my
countrywomen. I remembered that I was the sole representative of the
Earth on Mars, and that it stood me in hand to be careful about the
sort of impressions I gave out. It was as if I were on the witness'
stand, under oath. Facts must tell the story, not opinions,--though
personally I have great confidence in my opinions. I thought of our
government departments where women are the experts, and of their
almost spotless record for faithfulness and honesty, and replied:
"They are both capable and reliable, in as far as they have had
experience. But their chances have been circumscribed, and I believe
they lack the inclination to assume grave public duties. I fear I
cannot make you understand,--our women are so different, so unlike
your sister."
Elodia was always my standard of comparison.
"Perhaps you men take care of them all," suggested Severnius, "and
they have grown dependent. We have some such women here."
"No, I do not think it is that entirely," said I. "For in my city
alone, more than a hundred and seventy thousand women support not
only themselves, but others who are dependent upon them."
"Ah, indeed! but how?"
"By work."
"You mean servants?"
"Not so-called. I mean intelligent, selfrespecting women; teachers,
clerks, stenographers, type-writers."
"I should think it would be more agreeable, and easier, for them to
engage in business as our women do."
"No doubt it would," I replied, feeling myself driven to a close
scrutiny of the Woman Question, as we call it, for the first time in
my life. For I saw that my friend was deeply interested and wanted to
get at the literal truth. "But the women of my country," I went on,
"the self-supporting ones, do not have control of money. They have a
horror of speculation, and shrink from taking risks and making
ventures, the failure of which would mean loss or ruin to others. A
woman's right to make her living is restricted to the powers within
herself, powers of brain and hand. She is a beginner, you know. She
has not yet learned to make money by the labor of others; she does
not know how to manipulate those who are less intelligent and less
capable than herself, and to turn their ignorance and helplessness to
her own account. Perhaps I had better add that she is more religious
than man, and is sustained in this seeming injustice by something she
calls conscience."
Severnius was silent for a moment; he had a habit of setting his
reason to work and searching out explanations in his own mind, of
things not easily understood.
As a rule, the Marsians have not only very highly developed physical
faculties, such as sight and hearing, but remarkably acute intellects.
They let no statement pass without examination, and they scrutinize
facts closely and seek for causes.
"If so many women," said he, "are obliged to support themselves and
others beside, as you say, by their work simply, they must receive
princely wages,--and of course they have no responsibilities, which is
a great saving of energy."
I remembered having heard it stated that in New York City, the United
States Bureau gives the average of women's wages--leaving out
domestic service and unskilled labor--as five dollars and eighty-five
cents per week. I mentioned the fact, and Severnius looked aghast.
"What, a mere pittance!" said he. "Only about a third as much as I
give my stableman. But then the conditions are different, no doubt.
Here in Thursia that would no more than fight off the wolf, as we
say,--the hunger and cold. It would afford no taste of the better
things, freedom, leisure, recreation, but would reduce life to its
lowest terms,--mere existence."
"I fear the conditions are much the same with us," I replied.
"And do your women submit to such conditions,--do they not try to
alter them, throw them off?"
"They submit, of course," I said; "I never heard of a revolt or an
insurrection among them! Though there seems to be growing up among
them, lately, a determination strong as death, to work out of those
conditions as fast as may be. They realize--just as men have been
forced to realize in this century--that work of the hands cannot
compete with work of machines, and that trained brains are better
capital than trained fingers. So, slowly but surely, they are reaching
up to the higher callings and working into places of honor and trust.
The odds are against them, because the 'ins' always have a tremendous
advantage over the 'outs.' The women, having never been in, must
submit to a rigid examination and extraordinary tests. They know that,
and they are rising to it. Whenever, it is said, they come into
competition with men, in our colleges and training schools, they hold
their own and more."
"What are they fitting for?" asked Severnius.
"Largely for the professions. They are becoming doctors, lawyers,
editors, artists, writers. The enormous systems of public schools in
my own and other countries is entirely in their hands,--except of
course in the management and directorship."
"Except in the management and directorship?" echoed Severnius.
"Of course they do not provide and disburse the funds, see to the
building of school-houses, and dictate the policy of the schools!" I
retorted. "But they teach them; you can hardly find a male teacher
except at the head of a school,--to keep the faculty in order."
Severnius refrained from comment upon this, seeing, I suppose, that I
was getting a little impatient. He walked along with his head down. I
think I neglected to say that we were taking a long tramp into the
country, as we often did. In order to change the conversation, I asked
him what sort of a government they had in Paleveria, and was delighted
when he replied that it was a free republic.
"My country is a republic also," I said, proudly.
"We both have much to be thankful for," he answered. "A republic is
the only natural government in the world, and man cannot get above
nature."
I thought this remark rather singular,--at variance with progress and
high civilization. But I let it pass, thinking to take it up at some
future time.
"How do you vote here?" I asked. "What are your qualifications and
restrictions?"
"Briefly told," he replied. "Every citizen may vote on all public
questions, and in all elections."
"But what constitutes citizenship?"
"A native-born is a citizen when he or she reaches maturity.
Foreigners are treated as minors until they have lived as long under
the government as it takes for a child to come of age. It is thus," he
added, facetiously, "that we punish people for presuming to be born
outside our happy country."
"Excuse me," I said, "but do I understand you to say that your women
have the right of suffrage?"
"Assuredly. Do not yours?"
"Indeed no!" I replied, the masculine instinct of superiority swelling
within me.
Severnius wears spectacles. He adjusted them carefully on his nose and
looked at me.
"But did you not tell me just now that your country is a republic?"
"It is, but we do not hold that women are our political equals," I
answered.
His face was an exclamation and interrogation point fused into one.
"Indeed! and how do you manage it,--how, for instance, can you prevent
them from voting?"
"O, they don't often try it," I said, laughing. "When they do, we
simply throw their ballots out of the count."
"Is it possible! That seems to me a great unfairness. However, it can
be accounted for, I suppose, from the fact that things are so
different on the Earth to what they are here. Our government, you see,
rests upon a system of taxation. We tax all property to defray
governmental expenses, and for many other purposes tending toward the
general good; which makes it necessary that all our citizens shall
have a voice in our political economy. But you say your women have no
property, and so--"
"I beg your pardon!" I interposed; "I did not say that. We have a
great many very rich women,--women whose husbands or fathers have left
them fortunes."
"Then they of course have a vote?"
"They do not. You can't make a distinction like that."
"No? But you exempt their property, perhaps?"
"Of course not."
"Do you tell me that you tax property, to whatever amount, and for
whatever purpose, you choose, without allowing the owner her
fractional right to decide about either the one or the other?"
"Their interests are identical with ours," I replied, "so what is the
difference? We men manage the government business, and I fancy we do
it sufficiently well."
I expanded my chest after this remark, and Severnius simply looked at
me. I think that at that moment I suffered vicariously in his scornful
regard for all my countrymen.
I did not like the Socratic method he had adopted in this
conversation, and I turned the tables on him.
"Do your women hold office, other than in the school board and the
council?" I asked.
"O, yes, fully half our offices are filled by women."
"And you make no discrimination in the kind of office?"
"The law makes none; those things adjust themselves. Fitness,
equipment, are the only things considered. A woman, the same as a man,
is governed by her taste and inclination in the matter of
office-holding. Do women never take a hand in state affairs on the
Earth?"
"Yes, in some countries they do,--monarchies. There have been a good
many women sovereigns. There are a few now."
"And are they successful rulers?"
"Some are, some are not."
"The same as men. That proves that your women are not really
inferior."
"Well, I should say not!" I retorted. "Our women are very superior; we
treat them more as princesses than as inferiors,--they are angels."
I was carried away in the heat of resentment, and knew that what I had
said was half cant.
"I beg your pardon!" said Severnius quickly; "I got a wrong
impression from your statements. I fear I am very stupid. Are they all
angels?"
I gave him a furtive glance and saw that he was in earnest. His brows
were drawn together with a puzzled look.
I had a sudden vision of a scene in Five Points; several groups of
frowsled, petticoated beings, laughing, joking, swearing, quarreling,
fighting, and drinking beer from dirty mugs.
"No, not all of them," I replied, smiling. "That was a figure of
speech. There are so many classes."
"Let us confine our discussion to one, then," he returned. "To the
women who might be of your own family; that will simplify matters. And
now tell me, please, how this state of things came about, this
subjection of a part of your people. I cannot understand it,--these
subjects being of your own flesh and blood. I should think it would
breed domestic discontent, where some of the members of a family wield
a power and enjoy a privilege denied to the others. Fancy my shaking
a ballot over Elodia's head!"
"O, Elodia!" I said, and was immediately conscious that my accent was
traitorous to my countrywomen. I made haste to add,
"Your sister is--incomparable. She is unusual even here. I have seen
none others like her."
"How do you mean?"
"I mean that she is as responsible as a man; she is not inconsequent."
"Are your women inconsequent?"
"They have been called so, and we think it rather adds to their
attractiveness. You see they have always been relieved of
responsibility, and I assure you the large majority of them have no
desire to assume it,--I mean in the matter of government and
politics."
"Yes?"
I dislike an interrogative "yes," and I made no reply. Severnius
added,
"I suppose they have lost the faculty which you say they lack,--the
faculty that makes people responsible,--through disuse. I have seen
the same thing in countries on the other side of our globe, where
races have been held as slaves for several centuries. They seem to
have no ideas about personal rights, or liberties, as pertaining to
themselves, and no inclination in that direction. It always struck me
as being the most pathetic feature of their condition that they and
everybody else accepted it as a matter of course, as they would a law
of nature. In the place of strength and self-assertion there has come
to them a dumb patience, or an unquestioning acquiescence like that of
people born blind. Are your women happy?"
"You should see them!" I exclaimed, with certain ball-room memories
rushing upon me, and visions of fair faces radiant with the joy of
living. But these were quickly followed by other pictures, and I felt
bound to add, "Of late, a restless spirit has developed in certain
circles,--"
"The working circles, I suppose," interrupted Severnius. "You spoke of
the working women getting into the professions."
"Not those exclusively. Even the women of leisure are not so satisfied
as they used to be. There has been, for a great many years, more or
less chaffing about women's rights, but now they are beginning to take
the matter seriously."
"Ah, they are waking up, perhaps?"
"Yes, some of them are waking up,--a good many of them. It is a little
ridiculous, when one thinks of it, seeing they have no power to
enforce their 'rights', and can never attain them except through the
condescension of men. Tell me, Severnius, when did your women wake
up?"
Severnius smiled. "My dear sir, I think they have never been asleep!"
We stalked along silently for a time; the subject passed out of my
mind, or was driven out by the beauties of the landscape about us. I
was especially impressed with the magnificence of the trees that
hedged every little patch of farm land, and threw their protecting
arms around houses and cottages, big and little; and with the many
pellucid streams flowing naturally, or divided like strands of silk
and guided in new courses, to lave the roots of trees or run through
pasture lands where herds were feeding.
A tree is something to be proud of in Paleveria, more than a fine
residence; more even than ancient furniture and cracked china. Perhaps
because the people sit out under their trees a great deal, and the
shade of them has protected the heads of many generations, and they
have become hallowed through sacred memories and traditions. In
Paleveria they have tree doctors, whose business it is to ward off
disease, heal wounded or broken boughs, and exterminate destructive
insects.
Severnius startled me suddenly with another question:
"What, may I ask, is your theory of Man's creation?"
"God made Man, and from one of his ribs fashioned woman," I replied
catechetically.
"Ours is different," said he. "It is this: A pair of creatures, male
and female, sprang simultaneously from an enchanted lake in the
mountain region of a country called Caskia, in the northern part of
this continent. They were only animals, but they were beautiful and
innocent. God breathed a Soul into them and they were Man and Woman,
equals in all things."
"A charming legend!" said I.
Later on I learned the full breadth of the meaning of the equality he
spoke of. At that time it was impossible for me to comprehend it, and
I can only convey it to you in a complete account of my further
experiences on that wonderful planet.