Page:History of Woman Suffrage Volume 2.djvu/834

796 rights of women, not as citizens, but as human beings, have never been acknowledged. There is no audacity so insolent, no tyranny so wanton, no inhumanity so revolting, as the spirit which says to any human being, or to any class of human beings, "You shall be developed just as far as we choose, and as fast as we choose, and your mental and moral life shall be subject to our pleasure!"

Edward Lear, the artist, traveling in Greece, says that "he was one day jogging along with an Albanian peasant, who said to him, 'Women are really better than donkeys for carrying burdens, but not so good as mules.'" This was the honest opinion of barbarism—the honest feeling of Greece to-day.

You say that the peasant was uncivilized. Very well. Go back to the age of Pericles; it is the high noon of Greek civilization. It is Athens—"the eye of Greece—the mother of art." There stands the great orator—himself incarnate Greece—speaking the oration over the Peloponnesian dead. "The greatest glory of woman," he said, "is to be the least talked of among men;" so said Pericles, when he lived. Had Pericles lived to-day he would have agreed that to be talked of among men as Miss Martineau and Florence Nightingale are, as Mrs. Somerville and Maria Mitchell are, is as great a glory as to be the mother of the Gracchi. Women in Greece, the mothers of Greece, were an inferior and degraded class. And Grote sums up their whole condition when he says, "Every thing which concerned their lives, their happiness, or their rights, was determined for them by male relatives, and they seem to have been destitute of all mental culture and refinement."

These were the old Greeks. Will you have Rome? The chief monument of Roman civilization is its law—which underlies our own; and Buckle quotes the great commentator on that law as saying that it was the distinction of the Roman law that it treated women not as persons, but as things. Or go to the most ancient civilization; to China, which was old when Greece and Rome were young. The famous French Jesuit missionary, Abbé Huc, mentions one of the most tragical facts recorded—that there is in China a class of women who hold that if they are only true to certain bonds during this life, they shall, as a reward, change their form after death and return to earth as men. This distinguished traveler also says that he was one day talking with a certain Master Ting, a very shrewd Chinaman, whom he was endeavoring to convert. "But," said Ting, "what is the special object of your preaching Christianity?" "Why, to convert you, and save your soul," said the Abbé. "Well, then, why do you try to convert the women?" asked Master Ting. "To save their souls," said the missionary. "But women have no souls," said Master Ting; "you can't expect to make Christians of women,"—and he was so delighted with the idea that he went out shouting, "Hi! hi! now I shall go home and tell my wife she has a soul, and I guess she will laugh as loudly as I do!"

Such were the three old civilizations. Do you think we can disembarrass ourselves of history? Our civilization grows upon roots that spring from the remotest past; and our life, proud as we are of it, is bound up with that of Greece and Rome. Do you think the spirit of our society is wholly different? Let us see. It was my good fortune, only a few weeks ago, to be invited to address the students of Vassar College at Poughkeepsie; which