Woman and the Republic. Helen Kendrick Johnson
is, for her type, or for man's type, is not here under discussion; but it is not out of place to say in passing that if the final conquest of the spiritual over the material forces of humanity is really the aim of civilization, these "facts in the moral history of Greece" become less "perplexing."
The heroines of Homer's tales were all of noble birth—they were goddesses, princesses, hereditary gentlewomen. In early historic times, also, it was only royal or gentle blood that secured for woman political power. Athena was, in gentle Athens, patroness of household arts; but in Sparta, as Minerva, the same divinity was goddess, not of political interests, as Mrs. Dietrick puts it, but of war. She sprang full-armed from the head of Jove—rather a masculine origin, it must be owned. In Sparta women became soldiers as the democratic idea advanced. Princess Archidamia, marching at the head of her female troop to rebuke the senators for the decree that the women and children be removed from the city before the anticipated attack could come, is an example. In Etolia, in Argos, and in other states, the same was true. Maria and Telesilla led the women in battle and disciplined them in peace. But the world does not turn to Sparta for its ideal of a pre-Christian republic, and the Suffragists of our day do not propose to emulate the Spartan Amazon and hew their way to political power with the sword.
In Athens, which does present the model, matters were far otherwise. In the year 700 BC, the Spartans called upon Athens for a commander to lead them to the second Messenian war, and the Athenians sent them Tyrtaeus, their martial poet. The Spartans were displeased at his youth and gentle bearing; but when the battle was joined, his chanting of his own war-songs so animated the troops that they won against heavy odds. The following is a fragment translated from one of his lyrics:
"But be it ours to guard the hallowed spot,
To shield the tender offspring and the wife;
Here steadily await our destined lot,
And, for their sakes, resign the gift of life."
Aeschylus, poet and soldier, writing a hundred and fifty years later, in his "Seven Against Thebes," puts into the mouth of the chieftain Eteocles this address to the women:
"It is not to be borne, ye wayward race;
Is this your best, is this the aid you lend
The state, the fortitude with which you steel
The souls of the besieged, thus falling down
Before the images to wail, and shriek
With lamentations loud? Wisdom abhors you.
Nor in misfortune, nor in dear success,
Be woman my associate. If her power
Bears sway, her insolence exceeds all bounds;
But if she fears, woe to that house and city.
And now by holding counsel with weak fear,
You magnify the foe, and turn our men
To flight. Thus are we ruined by ourselves.
This ever will arise from suffering women
To intermix with men. But mark me well,
Whoe'er henceforth dares disobey my orders—
Be it man or woman, old or young—
Vengeance shall burst upon him, the decree
Stands irreversible, and he shall die.
War is no female province, but the scene
For men. Hence, home! nor spread your mischiefs here.
Hear you, or not? Or speak I to the deaf?"
Pericles, in his famous funeral oration over those who fell in the Peloponnesian war, thus addresses the Athenian women: "To the wives who will henceforth live in widowhood, I will speak, in one short sentence only, of womanly virtue. She is the best woman who is most truly a woman, and her reputation is the highest whose name is never in the mouths of men for good or for evil."
Seclusion was the best thing that the most intellectual pre-Christian republic could give to its honorable women. The freedom with which the hetairse, who were foreigners or daughters of slaves, mingled with statesmen and philosophers, brought them open political influence, but not a hint of voting power or of office-holding.
For the sake of brevity, I will confine my reference to Roman custom to a single pregnant sentence from Gibbon's "Decline and Fall of the Empire." He says: "In every age and country the wiser, or at least the stronger of the two sexes, has usurped the powers of the state, and confined the other to the cares and pleasures of domestic life. In hereditary monarchies, however, and especially in those of modern Europe, the gallant spirit of chivalry, and the law of succession, have accustomed us to allow a singular exception, and a woman is often acknowledged the absolute sovereign of a great kingdom, in which she would be deemed incapable of exercising the smallest employment, civil or military. But, as the Roman Emperors were still considered as the generals and magistrates of the Republic, their wives and mothers, although dignified by the name of Augusta, were never associated to their personal honors; and a female reign would have appeared an inexplicable prodigy in the eyes of those primitive Romans, who married without love, or loved without delicacy or respect."
The warlike states named republics in the Middle Ages had no woman Doge, or Duke, although women rose to the semblance of political power with empires and kingdoms, in Italy and Spain as well as in Germany and France, Austria and Russia.
Let us turn to modern Europe, in which thrones have been occupied now and again by queens. The progress of woman here, especially in Anglo-Saxon countries, has been steady, true and inspiring. In the earliest recorded councils of the race from which we sprang, we see freemen in full armor casting equal votes. During the ages of feudalism, women who were land- owners had the same rights as other nobles. They could raise soldiery, coin money, and administer justice in both civil and criminal proceedings. In proportion as the aristocratic power lost its hold, women were exempted from these services and gained in moral influence. The Germanic races were renowned for their respect for woman, and their love for home. As constitutional liberty grew, and each Englishman's house became his castle for defence against arbitrary power, the protection was not for himself but for his family. A figure-head ruler in feminine attire sits on England's throne to-day—the England that still unites its church and state, and in which feudal customs still prevail to some extent. Widows and spinsters who are property-owners can vote for all offices except the one charged under the Constitution with the framing and execution of the laws of the land. Aristocracy decrees that in the House of Lords the Bishops shall have a voice; but in the House of Commons no clergyman can hold a seat, and for members of Parliament no woman votes. Would any Suffragist hold that a clergyman was the inferior of men who do sit in the House of Commons? They are excluded for the same reason that woman has not the parliamentary vote—they are looked upon as non-combatants.
The Greek and Roman republics appear to have followed an instinct that was unerring in the condition of society when they removed women from the seats of power as the commonwealth gathered strength. Gibbon, in the sentences quoted, attributes the fact that queens as well as kings have occupied the thrones of modern Europe to the chivalry of men toward those who would yet be incapable of exercising actual power except for the backing of a standing army, or an hereditary nobility sworn to their support, both of which are composed solely of men. If this be true, it should be visible in the workings of the constitutional restrictions upon monarchies that have developed in the past fifty years, during which the principle of democratic government has advanced with enormous strides over a great portion of the globe.
In the Austro-Hungarian monarchy there is restricted woman suffrage. The kingdom of Italy has restricted municipal woman suffrage. The little republic that separates those countries, the land of Tell and the Vaudois, has direct manhood suffrage only.
Sweden and Norway are apparently parting company. Sweden chooses to keep its king and its aristocracy, and it has restricted woman suffrage; but Norway, which is working toward free institutions, and last year voted to remove the insignia of union from the Norwegian flag, has no woman suffrage. [Footnote: In the city of Berne, Switzerland, in 1852, a proxy vote was given to independent