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PHILLIPIA, 
 
 BY MRS, H. M. TRACY CUTLER, M. D., 
 
 AUTHOR OF "CHE OF SIXTY THOUSAND." 
 
 "I cannot remember a night so dark as to have hindered the coining day; or 
 a storm so furious and dreadful as to prevent the return of warm sunshine and a 
 cloudless sky." JOHN BROWN. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOK. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1886, by 
 
 MRS. H. M. TRACY CUTLER, 
 in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 
 
 THE C. L. PA.LMER 
 PRINTING HOUSE, 
 
 J) WIGHT, ILL. 
 
To my mother, who has lived under every administration of 
 our Government, and who has labored in every good cause for the 
 advancement of human well being, this little volume is affection* 
 ately dedicated by THE AUTHOR. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTERS. 
 
 in. 
 
 IV. 
 
 V. 
 VI. 
 
 VII. 
 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 
 XI 
 
 XIII. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 XX. 
 XXI. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Letter from Rev. Horace Wai worth to Edward Langdon Commencement of a 
 
 Clergyman s Career -He Marries Phillipia A Young Wife s Experience. 
 
 Edward Laugdon His Letter to his Chum Correspondence with Annette Wilson 
 
 The Oak and the Vine Homer s Odyssey. 
 
 Annette Wilson Her Letter Trouble with the Cyclop Polypheme Helping in 
 
 Household Matters, Etc. 
 
 Success of the new Minister Parish Interest Phillipia s Helpfulness The Won 
 
 derful Christmas and the Christmas Gift. 
 
 Convalescence of the Young Mother Sister Turner and her Experience. 
 
 Edward Langdon s Progress Second Letter from Rev. Horace Walworth His Suc 
 
 cessHis Advice to his Chum His Reflections. 
 
 Langdon s Reply Letter to Annette Wilson Her Reply Her Frankness Criticised 
 
 She cannot see the Inferiority of Women from the usual Standpoint. 
 President Making Lincoln s Nomination His Acceptance. 
 
 Letter from Langdon to Annette setting forth his Views of National Affairs Letter 
 
 from Rev. Horace Walworth Opinions on National Affairs Langdon s Reply A 
 
 Letter from Nettie Wilson. 
 
 Mrs. Turner continues her Experience and gives some Advice Betsey Byrne and 
 
 her Troubles. Little Bobby Byrne s Accident Mrs. Turner s Death and Burial. 
 
 Campaign Douglas and his Confidential Friends His Reasons for his Candidacy 
 
 His Victory in Death. 
 
 Miss Wilder, ihe new Music Teacher Elder Turner s Euthrallment and his Daugh 
 
 ter s Opportunity -His Improvement in his Surroundings Mrs. Walworth as a 
 
 Confidential Adviser. 
 
 Laugdon to Nettie Wilson The Beginning of the War of the Rebellion The 
 
 Answer. 
 
 Elder Turner and Friends Celebrate the 4th John Byrne gets Drunk and Enlists 
 
 His Parting from his family. 
 
 Govern nent calls for Haifa Million Men Edward Laugdon Enlists and goes out 
 
 Captain of a Cavalry Regiment Hasty Marriage to Annette Wilson. 
 
 Mrs. Walworth writes to her Mother about Business Speculations Mrs, Menloe s 
 
 Reply Mr. Walworth s Disappointment The Elder as an Adviser. 
 
 A Soldier Lett"r from Capt. Langdon to his Wife Petitions for Emancipation 
 
 Letter from Mrs. Langdon to her Husband Women doing Sanitary Work. 
 
 Mr. Walworth and Elder Turner prevail and get Mrs. Walworth to Mortgage her 
 
 Home Elder Turner meets with Sad Disappointment Miss Wilder goes East to 
 
 Nurse her Lover in the Hospital Mrs. Meuloe s Visit and Return. 
 
 Progress of the \Var -The two Plans for the Campaign Miss Carroll not Recog 
 
 nizedElder Turner s Scheme to Avoid the Draft Betsey Byrne s Opinion Byrne 
 
 iu Andersonville Elder Turner and his Pastor attend the Synod His Heartbreak 
 
 Healed, and the first Mrs. Turner s Perdiction Verified. 
 
 Annette Laugdon becomes a Sanitary Worker Her Brother Charley in Anderson 
 
 ville She Visits Auburndell and Speaks Her Acquaintance with Mrs. Walworth. 
 
 The Cause of Freedom is Advanced The Women Circulate and Charles Sumner 
 
 Presents an immense Petition calling for Emancipation as a War Measure Victory 
 
 Lincoln s Death and Funeral Honors. 
 
 Return of the Soldiers Grand Reception Betsey Byrne s Defiance of Elder Turner 
 
 Charley Wilson s Return Trials of the Menloes Mrs. Walworth s Return to 
 
 Comfort them Lily s great Suffering Mrs. Menloe s DeathMrs. Walworth sends 
 
 for her Husband His Illness Dismissal from his Church Elder Turner s Strategy 
 
 Loss of the Home Revelations Philiipia s Eyes opened at last Pitiful Struggles. 
 XXIII. The Langdou s Re-united and in their own Home True Home Life Its Good and 
 
 Helpful Outcome Final Appreciation and Success A Noble Manhood a True 
 
 Womanhood. 
 
 Decadence of Walworth Brave Struggles of Phillipia Awakening to a Sense of 
 
 Highest Obligations Letter to Mrs. Laugdon. 
 
 Mrs. Laugdou s Reply Letter of Rev. Horace Walworth to his old Chum, Edward 
 
 Langdon. 
 XXVI. Resume Success of Phillipia in her Family Lily s Helpfulness Their Mental 
 
 Growth Woman s Congress and the W. C. T. U. occupy the True Strategic Point 
 
 Phillipia and her Sons Assurance of ultimate Triumph. 
 
 XXIV 
 
PHILLIPIA, A WOMAN S QUESTION. 
 
 CHAPTEK I. 
 
 LETTER FROM REV. HORACE WAL WORTH TO EDWARD LA^GDON. 
 
 AUBURNDELL, ILL., April 1st, 1858. 
 My Dear Ned: 
 
 You will remember our compact when we roomed together 
 our last year in Oberlin; and now I am prepared, on my part, 
 for that confidence we used to anticipate. 
 
 A month ago I was married to the woman who fulfils my 
 highest ideal of a wedded companion, and yesterday we took pos 
 session of our new home, and in my study, the first letter I write, 
 is to you my unbelieving "Thomas," to assure you that my fond 
 est dream has become a living reality. 
 
 To fill my cup of blessings to the brim, I had received and 
 accepted a call to become pastor of a prosperous Presbyterian 
 Church, in this somewhat wealthy and thriving community. 
 
 You know I always preferred the Presbyterian Church to the; 
 Congregational, and this first settlement is quite to my mind. 
 
 But it is of my wedded felicity I am to write, at this pres 
 ent time, all other matters can wait. 
 
 You may remember the journey I took East directly after 
 graduating from my Theological course. It was while visiting- 
 some old friends in a little mountain town called Rockland, that 
 I first met my Phillipia. Her mother was a widow with tw > 
 charming daughters, the eldest my lovely mountain rose, the 
 other a sweet lily of the valley named Lily, as she deserved to be, 
 for her exceeding delicacy. 
 
 The mother is a lady of rare character, showing unmistakable 
 signs of fine birth and breeding. I do not fail to prize these 
 qualities in my mother-in-law, for, say what we will, blood tells, 
 and our families will illustrate the laws of hereditary descent as 
 the qualities of their ancestors reappear in succeeding generations. 
 
PHILLIPIA, 
 
 It is true that I can trace "no long descent," but all the 
 more reason why I should pecure ancestry on the mother s side 
 lor my descendants, should Providence bless us with a family. 
 The mother of my wife, Mrs. Menloe, and her daughters were 
 leading members of the Church in liockland, where I preached a 
 few Sundays, which gave me a most favorable opportunity. 
 Mine was not simply love at first sight, but love at first sound, 
 for my Phillipia was soloist, as the choir greeted me with a vol 
 untary, and the pure sweet tones of her voice thrilled me through 
 every chord of my being. When I ascended the pulpit, and 
 turned to regard the audience, I saw in the choir a grandly beau 
 tiful woman, with a face that Raphael might have chosen for a 
 Madonna. 
 
 The outline was a perfect oval, and the features were modeled 
 as by the finest Grecian art, so harmonious was the whole contour. 
 I could scarcely withhold my eyes from their matchless symme 
 try, till she raised her own, and encountered my gaze. Then, 
 the "rich, rare crimson" mantled her face, and again she looked 
 down, the alabaster lids shielding her dark eyes with a tender 
 curtaining. Her hair, ot a rich golden brown, lay in waves OA^er 
 her forehead, and escaped in careless curls about her ears and 
 neck. Her dress was of some soft blue fabric, delicate as gossa 
 mer, her hat, a white chip trimmed with pale forget-me-nots. 
 
 It was fortunate for me that I had not that day decided to 
 depend on a skeleton sermon, but had taken one written out fully, 
 even to "My dear hearers." You know that whatever defects I 
 may have in my mental make-up, I have some physical advantages 
 of which I m-ed not be ashamed; and my voice has a power of 
 pathos which even you used to declare enviable. I therefore stood 
 up my manliest in the desk, and threw my whole power of fervid 
 expression into my voice, as I led in prayer, and read the opening 
 lesson and hymn. I felt that I should succeed, and that is halt 
 the battle. 
 
 As good fortune would have it, there was, in the congrega 
 tion, an elder from the Church in Auburndell who was in quest 
 of a pastor, and my success on that eventful morning, secured 
 me not only the most admirable of wives, but also, ultimately, 
 the call to this promising field of usefulness. 
 
 An introduction to all the best families followed, as a matter 
 of course, and necessarily included Mrs. Menloe and her beauti 
 ful daughters. They had a tasteful home in a lovely valley, that 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 9 
 
 followed the windings of a little river, which was sufficiently 
 large to run several mills, on which the prosperity of the place 
 depends. Mr. Menloe was in his life time part owner of one of 
 these mills, and his wife, by his will, now controls the share, and 
 disposes of the comfortable income as she pleases. This is not 
 large, but quite sufficient to render them comfortable, and to have 
 enabled the daughters to attend the Mt. Holyoke Seminary, a 
 school that has blest the world with far lovelier women than 
 Oberlin, in my estimation, from the tact that the girls are not ac 
 customed to a sort of mental rivalry with men. 
 
 You know that I never approved of this feature of Oberlin, 
 and said that the tender reverence of women for men, was likely 
 to receive a fatal shock, when they saw themselves quite able to 
 compete with us, both in Greek and Hebrew, Mid even in mathe 
 matics. That they will forget, or boldly set aside the injunction 
 of the great Apostle, seems to me only a natural, I may say, 
 inevitable result, ol this too often successful competition. 
 
 In fact, I do not wonder that A. B., and L. M., are insisting 
 on studying for the ministry, and I will confess that their mas 
 tery of Metaphysics and Theology sometimes made me shudder. 
 Think of living with a woman, and preaching before her fifty-two 
 Sabbaths in the year, when you knew, and she is only too pain 
 fully conscious, that she could write a better sermon than yourself, 
 and could read it with far more impressiveness. 
 
 Xo, I thank you; I did not choo-e a wife who had read me 
 through a hundred times, but one softly feminine, whose highest 
 joy is to do my pleasure, who, like Milton s Eve, constantly whis 
 pers, "God is thy love thou mine." But my beloved Phillipia 
 while delicately nurtured, and well educated, according to a true 
 and proper standard of feminine loveliness, is not too profound 
 or exact, and will even give me the rare pleasure of sometimes 
 criticising her expressions, and holding her in a kind of gentle 
 subjection to my own higher culture and broader opinions. 
 This I have ever believed the true foundation of domestic happi 
 ness, the wife held in loving subjection to the husband. 
 
 Such a lovely, clinging nature as my wife evinces, would, I 
 am. sure, thaw out the wintry prejudices of even your frosty 
 heart. Vine like, twining her beautiful, confiding nature round 
 mine, she seems but to live in the light of my countenance, and 
 to breathe in the sweet atmosphere of my love. 
 
 Our little home, the wedding gift of her mother, is really 
 
10 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 charming, and there is only one thing to regret in all this. By 
 some freak, I scarcely know what, the friend who purchased it 
 for Mrs. Menloe, had it deeded to Phillipia, possibly because it 
 was secured before our marriage; but it is always a little awk 
 ward for a man to feel that the home is not his own. But this is 
 better than not having a pleasant shelter, and Phillipia is so sorry 
 for the inadvertence, that I cannot complain, while the best cor 
 ner is set apart for an elegant lounging chair for her husband, 
 and his dressing gown and slippers will be sure to be in place tor 
 the evening. 
 
 I will not say, "pardon this wearisome epistle," for it is in 
 fulfilment of a well remembered compact, and I trust to receive 
 one equally voluminous in return. 
 
 Your affectionate chum, 
 
 HORACE WAL WORTH. 
 
 After the production of this epistle, the writer wended his 
 way down stairs, encountering some of the disorder incident to 
 the settling of a new home. The delicate fingers of his wife were 
 ineffectually struggling to stretch the new three-ply carpet to its 
 place, with the inefficient aid of a small colored girl. She raised 
 her eyes imploringly as he entered, and begged that he would 
 kindly assist her for a little, as she was quite unused to such 
 tasks; but he said he was just now so fully occupied, that he 
 would much prefer to order a neighboring colored woman to 
 come in and assist. And so he went out for a refreshing walk, 
 leaving a kiss on her lips, but saying to himself, u lt will never 
 do for Phillipia to imagine that I can help her about household 
 matters. If I once suffer myself to be tied to her apron strings 
 there will be a letting down of all family dignity." So he called 
 on Aunt Marty, a good natured crone, and she went over to help 
 the "Mistis," as she called Mrs. Walworth, and it was hard to say 
 whether she helped or hindered most. 
 
 But at last the carpet was laid, and when the Rev. Horace 
 returned, he found the comfortable chair in the best corner, the 
 dressing-gown on its tempting arms, the tea table spread with 
 dainty linen and beautiful china, and an appetizing meal await- 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 11 
 
 ing his approval. His wife looked flushed and tired, but he 
 warmly commended her rosy cheeks, and declared that woman 
 never looked so lovely as in the performance of housewifely 
 duties, the sphere that God had so wisely assigned her. 
 
 Phillipia was comforted by this generous appreciation, and 
 almost forgot the smart of her fingers, and the weariness of her 
 shoulders, and smiled back at his ready approval as kindly as. 
 though he had used his strong fingers, and bent his broad shoul 
 ders to the task. Though but little accustomed to household 
 labor, she had always lived in a well-ordered home, and nothing- 
 short of the same well-appointed surroundings could fully satisfy 
 her ambition. Her husband encouraged her to feel that any 
 thing short of this would be unbecoming his position as a 
 minister. 
 
 Thus, all the first months ot her married life were spent in a 
 struggle to attain to such perfection of housekeeping as should 
 meet the perfect approval of her husband, and secure their home 
 against the criticism of more experienced neighbors. 
 
 "The minister s wife should do honor to his station," was a 
 favorite apothegm of the Rev. Horace Walworth, and bravely 
 did his trusting helpmeet endeavor to attain to this high 
 eminence. 
 
 Then there was a demand for the organization of the Mite 
 Society, and the Missionary Aid Society, and the Prayer Meet 
 ings must be attended weekly, and Mrs. Walworth must assist at 
 all the musical rehearsals, and take a leading part in the choir. 
 She could not be absent from a single service, without seeming 
 to disarrange some plan. 
 
 Now, as her little colored handmaiden could neither cook, 
 nor sweep, nor dust, successfully, and was hardly to be trusted 
 to wash dishes, and as competent help was not easily obtained, 
 all the responsible work fell to her unused hands. 
 
 She must punctually return all calls; she must entertain no 
 end of company ; she must always be prompt at the call of duty, 
 
1 2 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 whether to visit the sick, or to succor the needy. And above all, 
 she mast neglect no religious service, and must be prepared to 
 instruct a class of young ladies in the Sunday School. 
 
 One cannot wonder it occasionally it seemed to her that her 
 hands were more than full. Yet she would not complain, lest 
 she should come short of the approval of her almost idolized 
 husband. 
 
 He, however, did not fail to groan over the task of prepar 
 ing for the Sunday morning sermon and the evening talk, and 
 called for a great amount ot sympathy from his worshipful wife. 
 His overtasked brain demanded frequent relaxation in the shape 
 of morning walks or horseback rides. Sometimes, after tea, 
 Phillipia found time to dress according to his approval, and ride 
 with him along the beautiful banks of the river near their home, 
 or out over the undulating prairie, so tender in its fresh green 
 ness, dappled with pale spring flowers. 
 
 This freshness and beauty ot nature was a delightful inspi 
 ration to the fair young bride, who often broke out singing, 
 
 " Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood, 
 Stand drest in living green." 
 
 If her pleasant words, and keen appreciation of natural 
 beauty furnished her husband some of the finest similes which 
 charmed his congregation, he was careful not to thank her, or 
 too greatly to encourage any freedom of expression, lest she 
 should presume on the liberty this might imply to criticise his 
 productions. 
 
 u What a beautiful couple!" was the involuntary praise of 
 their new friends and neighbors, " and so perfectly happy in 
 their marriage relations! " 
 
 "That Mistis Phillipia is just a singin angel an orter hab 
 a harp ob gole," Aunt Marty used to say, as she stopped to 
 listen when Phillipia played on the piano and sang of an 
 evening; and many a weary, care-burdened heart acknowledged 
 the irresistible charm. 
 
 Thus, seemingly without spot or flaw, began the married 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 13 
 
 life of the Rev. Horace Walworth and his beautiful and loving- 
 wife. 
 
 That his views were sound on the question of woman s 
 education, seems quite verified by .the modern thinkers of hi& 
 school. At a reunion of Yale Alumni at Worcester the follow 
 ing sentiments were expressed. We quote from a Worcester 
 daily of April 29th, 1884: 
 
 " Mr. F. E. Kernochan, the retiring president ot the associa 
 tion, brought the discussion back to co-education at Yale. He 
 did not believe the average woman needed or had a right to the 
 same education as the average man. He did not believe that 
 the average woman wanted such an education, or that society 
 called for it. The great result of a course at Yale was the 
 forming of a manly character, and such was not wanted in a 
 woman." 
 
 Previous to this profound statement, cigars had been 
 lighted, and Prot. Kent had been called to express his opinion 
 on co-education. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The confidential epistle of the Rev. Horace Walworth 
 reached his former chum, Edward Langdon, on a rainy spring 
 morning, which he had set apart for a review of the Odyssey; for 
 he loved his Greek with an undying love, and he had promised 
 his former pupil and present correspondent, Annette Wilson, to 
 write out for her some critical notes, during his vacation. 
 
 It had been necessary to teach in order to pay his college 
 tuition. He had managed to work out his board at the carpenter s 
 bench, during his years of college life, but he had been compelled 
 to borrow money for tuition and books, so that he had a small 
 debt to liquidate before he counted himself a free man ; for it 
 was his motto : " No man is free while his conscience is burdened 
 with debt." 
 
14 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 During his college, days he had become most intimately 
 acquainted with Walworth, as they had chanced to room 
 together for a year or two. But he had hardly called him friend 
 in any other sense than their intimacy compelled by their 
 propinquity. There was a quality of egotism that was extremely 
 disgusting to Langdon s quick sense ot propriety, a conscious 
 ness of admiration that was almost childish. 
 
 Then he was given to speculating upon the character of the 
 woman he felt sure that he should marry, a matter that to Lang 
 don s finer nature seemed indelicate, for even to speak of one s 
 ideal seemed to him out of taste. The promise of confidence had 
 been all on Walworth s side, and he had supposed it would be 
 forgotten as soon as made. 
 
 Langdon could not have spoken as Walworth did, of the 
 dream wife that should some day grace his home, as a living 
 reality. As yet he had none; save that sacred center of his boy 
 hood s joys, his widowed mother s humble abode; but he felt that 
 the future held some hallowed spot pre-empted, where he and his 
 ideal should walk lovingly, hand in hand, neither "equal nor 
 unequal," but one, even as the two cells of the heart are one, 
 u beating to one full stroke, life." 
 
 The egotist in Walworth s composition was offensive to 
 Langdon s finer nature, but there was such a superfluity of 
 animal life, such beauty of form, and such charm of voice, that 
 he was half disposed to accept him as a genuine man, to renounce 
 his contempt, and accord him the admiration he so naturally 
 demanded. He had never doubted that he would captivate some 
 charming woman and bind her a willing slave to his will. He 
 remembered how Walworth had often winced at the fact that 
 some of the ladies in his classes quite surpassed him in thorough 
 ness, and had almost angrily declared that such unlovely women 
 would never be fit for wives. 
 
 As he read the epistle, he smiled at the self-satisfaction so 
 unblushingly expressed, and seating himself at his writing table, 
 he spread out a sheet 01 foolscap, as peculiarly appropriate, and 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 15 
 
 with a feeling of grim humor commenced his congratulatory 
 reply. 
 
 ROCK RIVER VALLEY, April jd, 1858. 
 Rev. H. Wai-worth : 
 
 DEAR FRIEND: Accept my congratulations for all the good 
 the gods have vouchsafed you, especially that you have a wire so 
 gracefully endowed. A good home, well furnished, the best 
 corner appropriated to your especial use, a worshipful congre 
 gation, and doubtless a fair salary, may well enable you to accept 
 with patient, though somewhat melancholy grace, the fact that 
 your wife holds the title deed to the home. But you know she 
 cannot alienate it without your consent; while, as a balance of 
 power, should she die, and leave you her disconsolate widower, 
 you have the right of " tenant by the courtesy," so that you will 
 not be turned out shelterless even by your children, upon an un 
 feeling world, during the remainder of your lite. I have often 
 thought gratefully of the tenderness of the law toward widowers, 
 in not turning them out of the home the wife has provided for 
 them, or of taking from them any of the household comforts 
 that have been accumulated. It is true that Kansas, it is said, 
 has been guilty of passing some foolish laws, presumed to be at 
 the instigation of a woman who intermeddled somewhat in the 
 constitutional convention, which give to the married woman cer 
 tain privileges, that must seem, to such wise men as you, perfectly 
 absurd. But do not be cast down by this, my dear chum. The 
 men are still the law makers, and all power is in their hands. 
 They can unmake, as well as make laws, and if it shall become 
 apparent that there are injudicious laws that interfere with the 
 complete unity of the relation in which husband and wife are 
 both one, and that one the husband, such injustice to themselves 
 can be easily and speedily remedied. 
 
 The experience of my widowed mother when I was a young 
 boy, has often led me to feel how generous men ought to be 
 towards their own possible widowed condition. I recall the sale 
 of a portion of the furniture, thought to be too luxurious for the 
 family of the widow; the disposal of the spare bed, because at 
 that time only one bed was allowed for every two members of the 
 family ; the sacrifice of growing stock, that might have been most 
 advantageously kept, and most trying of all, the sale of the 
 library, (a somewhat choice one), all but the family Bible. To 
 my mother, who was, possibly, foolishly fond of reading history 
 
16 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 and travels, and similar books, unprofitable to a widow, this was 
 more trying than the sale ol her best carpet and spare bed. You 
 see, she had the absurd idea that she could almost prepare my 
 brother and myself for college, and so keep us with her a year or 
 two longer. Our guardian thought it a foolish plan ; but women 
 you know, are apt to be foolish, especially about their boys, and 
 she so far carried her point that it took us only one term in the 
 preparatory course, and you may remember, I came out first in 
 history and mathematics, in which, low be it spoken, my mother 
 had mostly instructed me. But, as the old cornet said, " Discipline 
 must be maintained." I do not suppose you would ever be 
 guilty of the folly of mentioning that your maiden sister, by her 
 skill as a tailoress, not only furnished you clothes, but paid your 
 tuition and board through college. No, this is a favor we 
 graciously bestow on such good faithful souls, and our success in 
 life is all the reward they ought to desire. 
 
 Now, as to that lovely lady, whose graceful, vine-like nature 
 is so in accordance with your dreams, I trust that she may have 
 a living oak to cling to, and that she may never find her shining 
 foliage shielding rottenness and death. If a rnan desires this 
 constant dream of beauty, he must demand of himself manliness 
 and strength. 
 
 For myself, I should prefer a companion whom I would 
 meet on equal ground. Should I marry a wife and have a study, 
 I should want her to come in and read Greek and Latin with me 
 sometimes, and a spice of Hebrew would not at all spoil my 
 digestion. I have been so accustomed to consider my mother 
 in the light of an intellectual equal that a wife whom I could 
 impose upon by my shallowness, would inspire me with a sort of 
 pitying contempt. I shall not ask wealth or beauty, but a good 
 mind wisely cultivated, and a moral nature that will never wor 
 ship in me that which is meretricious or unworthy. 
 
 In the meantime, I am not disposed to be sparing of my 
 congratulations, and I feel sure that should I know your charm 
 ing wife, I should find in her all the womanly graces that you 
 see, besides a latent capacity to keep step with you in intellectual 
 and moral growth. And so I say to you, be a living oak, that 
 this beautiful vine may never trail its glossy foliage in the dust; 
 and for all my old and present frostiness of speech and manner,, 
 believe me still, Your faithful chum and well wisher, 
 
 EDWARD LANGDON. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 17 
 
 This epistle, which had somewhat stirred up the latent cyni 
 cism in Langdon s nature, turned him aside from his original 
 purpose, and his critical notes on the Odyssey were for the 
 moment superseded by a singular letter to Nettie. It was rather 
 a parable of the oak and the vine, which ran as follows: 
 
 ROCK RIVER Y ALLEY, April 4, 1858. 
 My Dear Nettie : 
 
 You will expect a critical dissertation on the Odyssey which 
 I promised you in my last, but a letter from an old college chum 
 has rendered this quite improbable for this morning. He has 
 recently married, and is so full of the oak and vine theory that I 
 cannot shake off my disturbance till 1 have more fully discussed 
 it. Let us suppose a strong young oak, growing up in a forest, 
 and looking forward to the dignity of a mighty monarch. Xow, 
 this oak is by nature fond of companionship, and he feels that 
 he ought to make choice of some green growing thing, into 
 whose sympathies he can enter, and who shall be to him a second 
 self, and by whom his own grand nature may ultimately be perpet 
 uated through countless ages. He sees growing near him, a 
 young sapling of his own species, whose boughs wave to him in 
 the same breeze that moves his own, which seems to speak the 
 same language, and to give an intelligent reply to his every 
 thought. 
 
 But the oak is proud of his superiority, and he says in the 
 pride of hisoakhood, "No, it will never do for me to contemplate 
 such an alliance. This oak is too nearly my equal. Any little 
 accident may give it the advantage, and before I know it, I shall 
 be excelled in grace and strength. But this little vine at my feet 
 will be proud to depend on my strength, and her delicate tendrils 
 will cling to my bark and enfold me numbly and lovingly, climb 
 ing as I grow, and adding to my beauty and honor among all the 
 trees of the wood." 
 
 So the oak courted the vine, and the vine felt honored and 
 accepted the oak, and began to put out soft tendrils, and to cling- 
 and grow upward, and at last she sheathed the forest monarch 
 with her bright green foliage, till it shut out the sun and wind 
 from his trunk and even burdened his branches. The oak soon 
 ceased to grow ; rottenness seized upon his heart, and before he was 
 well aware of his own weakness, a wind overthrew him, and oak 
 and vine lay prostrate in the forest. The rotten-hearted oak crum- 
 
 2 
 
18 PHILLIPI A, 
 
 bled to dust, and the vine, poor thing, tried vainly to cover and 
 make still green and beautiful her prostrate idol. And thus, they 
 found, in the end, that the vine had smothered the oak, and 
 the oak had crushed the vine, and both were ruined by their mis 
 take in thinking that God and nature were pleased when things 
 not congenially allied attempted to form a sacred conjugal union. 
 
 No, my dear Nettie, no clinging vine for me, to drape me in 
 false beauty, and to destroy my moral nature by shielding it 
 from all just criticism, making me vain and self-confident! If I 
 am an oak, I want the comradeship of my own kind, and if need 
 were, I would take some smart brushings from one who had the 
 power to be my rival, rather than endure the companionship of 
 one who was ready to lie at my feet, a slave. "But I, an eagle, 
 clang an eagle to the sphere." But my wise Penelope can easily 
 read the riddle, and so I turn from this foolish fable, and wish 
 ing you good speed in your new studies say my adieu. 
 
 Your ever faithful, 
 
 E. L. 
 
 P. S. I have eaten my dinner, and got the bad taste out of 
 my month, and so half repent me of my fault and will endeavor 
 to give you a few thoughts on the matchless sequel to the Iliad. 
 
 This great work of the poor old beggar bard, the Iliad you 
 remember, is based upon the frailty of a woman. She is vain, 
 greedy of wealth and the worldly honors it can purchase, and is 
 thus easily lured away by the seductive graces of Paris. This 
 false step involves two great nations in war, costs the blood of 
 heroes, the destruction of homes, the overthrow of a proud and 
 prosperous nation, and even involves the Gods in quarrels and 
 intrigues that would disgrace the meanest of mortals. 
 
 " Such wars the immortals wage, 
 Such horrors rend the world s vast concave, 
 When the Gods contend. 
 
 It does seem that nothing could so stir up the basest of 
 passions, both among Gods and men, as intrigues that involve 
 :some beautiful but vain woman. 
 
 Now the Odyssey follows, illustrating the grand power of a 
 true and faithful princess, under the fiercest temptations. 
 Ulysses, through the conflicting powers of the Gods, is not per 
 mitted to return to his wife and son, but is tossed upon the rag 
 ing main, and driven about from shore to shore, betrayed by one, 
 .and rescued by another, tempted, courted and all but lost, yet at 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 19 
 
 last saved; his heroic son, led by Minerva, doing prodigies in the 
 quest for his recovery. How shrewdly the blind old poet reads 
 tiie varying temptations of man growing out of his vanity, his 
 appetites and passions. And during all this weary endeavor to 
 
 fet back to home and family, to throne and kingdom, his brave 
 enelope is defending herself against the seductions of a crowd 
 of false princes, whose pretenses of purity are only kept up by 
 the basest intrigues and indulgences with the depraved and 
 servile. 
 
 Now these vile aspirants in their rich robes of state, and 
 with the pretense of offering finest homage to virtue, surround 
 this brave princess and besiege her to surrender her hand in mar 
 riage, since Ulysses is surely dead. She feels her powerlessness 
 in their hands; but she knows the specious gallantry they boast 
 must be her defense. So she pleads the need of time to make 
 choice among such worthy and honored suitors, and, finally, hits 
 upon a most pious pretext. The old father, who has shown him 
 self worthy the consideration of the immortal Gods, will soon 
 require fitting funeral honors, and before she can make choice of 
 a successor to Ulysses she must weave a royal robe in which to 
 wrap his corse, the good and great Laertes. Now, this was a 
 most ladylike employment, and enabled her to display her match 
 less skill. The frame was adjusted, the silken wrap laid on, and 
 then the curious woof was inwrought, with many colored shuttles. 
 
 One can almost see the group of smooth false villains, as 
 they gather round the pure, clear eyed, shrewd woman, so intent 
 on the wonderful designs of her web, dropping now and then a 
 shuttle, for which all sprawl about the tesselated floor to be first 
 to restore it, that perchance they might touch her milk white 
 lingers, or win a glance of approval from those veiled eyes. But 
 the shuttle must be consigned to the basket, that no advantage 
 could be taken by even accidental show of preference. And 
 when night falls, and the day s restraints are over, how eagerly 
 she throws off all disguise and unravels the web, that they may 
 not force her to any dangerous decision till her own beloved hero 
 shall come again. 
 
 The story is itself a marvelous web, and shows that the truly 
 dramatic and philosophic thought existed long before our modern 
 drama. Humanity was full of the same weaknesses, the same 
 powers of regeneration, the same defeats, the same victories as 
 now; only sometimes one feels that the old races, like the mighty 
 
20 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 red woods of the western forests, were far more lusty than those 
 of our puny days. Helen was an enchantress, Penelope a tower 
 of ivory, complete in beauty and strength. 
 
 To-day, following the old primitive thought, woman may 
 cheat the world to its undoing; or she may lead it by strong true 
 influence to its highest probabilities of goodness and truth. The 
 Circes still hold the wine cup, and men become swinish at their 
 feet. When I think of these things, I cry out in my eager 
 haste: "Awake, put on thy strength, O virgin daughters of 
 Jerusalem!" 
 
 Now, my dear Xettie, this is not what I should have written 
 if that oak and vine had not disturbed me. But when you are 
 well versed in the Odyssey, tell me if I have misconceived the 
 purpose of the old poet, to show by contrast, the power for evil 
 of a false woman, and the power for good ol one strong and true. 
 
 As ever yours, 
 
 E. L. 
 
 This missive reached its destination on a soft April morning, 
 that dawned on the loveliest of western landscapes. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The home of this country maiden was on the shining banks 
 of Rock River that rolls through a valley rich as the Eden of 
 our imagination. The sturdy Pilgrims from New England, like 
 trees stunted in a nursery, when removed to a generous soil, had 
 burgeoned out in stately growths of strength and beauty. Already 
 the first stinted and narrow home of the pioneer had given place 
 to a new and commodious structure, not white and gairish as is the 
 wont of some, but of a soft pearly grey, with white facings and 
 green blinds. Tall poplars, just bursting into bud, with their yel 
 low tinted spikes, stood like sentinels to guard the avenue that led 
 from the highway to the mansion. Around it, and in summer 
 almost hiding it, were the rapidly growing maples, whose red 
 limbs would soon hang out their tiny crimson and yellow branches, 
 ere the coming greenness. These enclosed the hardy fruit trees 
 that would soon unfold their fragrant blossoms, for the spring 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 21 
 
 was early. At convenient distance stood the barn and other out 
 buildings, noticeably long cribs full of corn, also guarded by a 
 clump of trees, remains of a little forest of rock maples. While 
 the brother had gone to the near village for the morning mail, An 
 nette "Wilson had taken his place at the fire of a little sugar camp, 
 where the last batch of maple syrup was bubbling up and threat 
 ening to run over, if not constantly reminded to keep within 
 bounds. 
 
 The young girl who had taken upon herself this duty, and 
 stood paddle in hand, is worthy of a passing glance, not that she 
 is strikingly beautiful, but that she is graceful in form, and her 
 movements, even in her homely morning dress, give a sense of re 
 finement, though full of the freedom and unconstraint of her posi 
 tion. In height she is only medium, though quite slender. Her 
 features are moderately beautiful, we see as the crimson hood falls 
 back from her brow, the forehead is clear and high, the hair is 
 straight and combed back and twisted in a Grecian knot, but it is 
 dark as a raven s wing and quite as glossy. Her cast of counte 
 nance is rather like that of Minerva than Psyche, and the lustrous 
 grey eyes shine clear and star like. Her complexion is not strik 
 ingly fair, but the color that glows through her cheeks with the 
 richness that young blood gives, makes amends for the lack of the 
 lily and the rose so often lauded in women. It was not a face 
 that a foolish man would be likely to admire, but one to which a 
 strong man might turn with unfailing trust. There is nothing 
 inane or petty that would tempt the flatterer to over praise, but 
 a sense of comradeship might grow up between her and any 
 sensible, clear-headed man. 
 
 Presently, as the fire a little subsides, she draws a book from 
 under her shawl, and begins to pour over it with deep earnest 
 ness, but she is not so lost that the syrup can escape her. You 
 feel that vigilance is a part of her nature, and that she may be 
 safely trusted with any responsibility. 
 
 Presently the quick tramp of a horse is heard, and a bright 
 
22 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 looking lad, some fourteen years of age rides up, and in the tan 
 talizing way of a roguish boy asks why he was sent on a fool s- 
 errand. Yet her quick sense detects the smile lurking round his 
 lips, and she eagerly demands her letter. 
 
 "Just as though I had found one there!" he says. 
 
 " Yes, just the same, Charley, for you know you have it," she 
 replies. 
 
 Then he commences a search through all his pockets, turn 
 ing them out empty. "Honor bright," he exclaims, "there is- 
 no letter there." 
 
 "Honor bright!" she returns switching off his crumpled hat 
 with a long willow wand that lay near, and out falls the letter 
 which she seizes and pockets before he can dismount. 
 
 "Then pay me the extra postage," he calls out. "I know 
 that school master has cheated his venerable uncle Samuel and 
 you want to make me, what was that you read ? accessory after 
 the fact." 
 
 But the letter is in her pocket, and he, even in his daring,, 
 will not invade that, so he remounts, and trots off to the stable. 
 Soon Netta is released, and goes to her chamber, which overlooks 
 the shining river which is not brighter than her own clear eyes. 
 She lays aside her wraps, adjusts her snow white collar and puts 
 on a white apron; sits down and looks off, seeming for a moment 
 lost in thought. Then she takes the thick letter from her pocket, 
 carefully cuts the envelope, spreads out the sheets and begins to 
 read. As she does so, the rich color mounts to her cheeks. The 
 oak and the vine parable suits her mood. Even as a little child 
 she resented being patronized because she was a girl, and she 
 showed great indignation when told that because Eve had sinned 
 women were obliged to obey men. "But I am not Eve," she 
 would say, " and I didn t eat that bad apple. I must not be pun 
 ished for what somebody else did. And didn t Adam eat too! 
 "What makes him so good if Eve was bad?" She was not disposed 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 
 
 to accept the old doctrine of imputed sin, and turned in disgust 
 from the little primer which declared 
 
 "In A dam s fall, 
 We sinned all." 
 
 She felt that every soul must stand or fall, according to its 
 own merits or demerits, and this sentiment had grown with her 
 growth. She asked no favors, only justice as a human being. 
 
 She would not be patronized in any sense. And now that 
 she was old enough to teach, she had determined to educate her 
 self, and she was going to have just as good opportunities as her 
 eldest brother, who was already studying a profession, and she 
 would not ask for a cent from any one. She was an omniveroua 
 reader with the New England bias towards theological investiga 
 tion. She was now using her spare time to bring along her 
 studies, so that she should not be obliged to spend more than two- 
 years in college, and hence her interest in the Odyssey. At first 
 she experienced a shade of disappointment, for she had counted on 
 that critical essay which her former teacher had promised, and in 
 her slow, half blind guessing through the first and second books, 
 she had not yet quite found the clue to the real purpose of the 
 writer, since she had conscientiously refrained from reading a 
 translation. But when she came to the after dinner P. S., she 
 was delighted. Now she should be able to unravel the twists of 
 Greek verbs, and to understand and apply rules hitherto obscure. 
 And then, who so quick to seize upon the intricate and subtle 
 thought involved as her long trusted friend. He had alway^ 
 even from her early girlhood, when he taught their winter school,, 
 before he went to college, treated her as an equal, and had kept 
 up a voluminous correspondence, such as he might have done 
 with her eldest brother. He had never said a word about love r 
 he had never uttered a word of flattery, but still his intellectual 
 confidence had been to her sweeter than any words of praise. It 
 was so good of him to turn to her, from all his comrades, and 
 make her the sharer of his best thoughts. 
 
24 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 She read on, with a sweet, tender light in her grey eyes, and 
 a smile of quiet humor on her young lips, and never appropriated 
 the deep meaning that a vain woman would have found in every 
 word. 
 
 After reading it carefully for the second time, she returned 
 it to its envelope, and put it away in a little trunk that was well- 
 nigh full of letters from the same hand, and "not a love letter 
 among them all," she had once told her mother, with no small 
 pride. 
 
 After safely depositing her treasure she ran down to see what 
 assistance she could render in getting dinner. Finding some cus 
 tard pies wanted, she laid aside her white apron, and donned a 
 dark print which completely enveloped her from neck to toes. 
 Then she went about her work, carefully measuring the quantity 
 of each ingredient, and showing by her attention, that her repu 
 tation as a cook was based upon no guess work. 
 
 This done, she prepared to make a cake for tea, talking with 
 her mother about the wonderful property of the albumen of the 
 egg, and as she beat the whites to a standing froth, admiring the 
 action of air in combination. This mother and only daughter 
 were like two students together. 
 
 "This is not making something out of nothing, but it is 
 making a good deal out of a little, is it not mother?" she said 
 in her brisk way. "I do wonder how people stand it to do 
 housework, who do not see, in what they are doing something fine 
 and elevating. The chemistry of common cooking is really so 
 wonderful, that it makes it delightful to watch the experiments. 
 See what a change heat makes," she said as she carefully lifted 
 the pies from the oven, baked so that they just curdled, but did 
 not whey, and colored a yellowish brown by the perfect heat. 
 "And now my sponge cake goes in. Please do not disturb it by 
 any sudden movement about the stove, mother, for many a deli 
 cate cake is made heavy by a little careless jar, as you know." 
 Her mother only smiled at her patronizing way. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 25 
 
 The table was soon set, the order of all as perfect as though 
 guests were expected, and the farmer and his two hired men, with 
 his wife and daughter, sat down, and with a hearty benediction 
 quaintly expressed in good New England phrase, partook of the 
 dainty meal. 
 
 This over, Nettie ran out to relieve Charley, and at the same 
 time to review the first book ot the Odyssey. 
 
 A new light seemed to illumine its pages. Here w r as the 
 story of a hero, persecuted for his valor. He had put out the one 
 eye ot one of the mighty Cyclops, and Neptune was bent on re 
 venge. She wondered if this meant something more deeply 
 spiritual than the mere words of the text expressed. Had he not 
 interfered with some old, hideous, one-eyed prejudice, and thus 
 brought down the wrath of gods and men? And then she fell 
 off into dreams, and saw visions in the coals that blinked in the 
 noonday sun. As she thought, her cogitation took the form of a 
 letter to Ned. No, to Mr. Langdon; "Ned" would be quite too 
 familiar, though he had begged that she would call him so. So 
 her thoughts were all put in order for the letter she should write 
 next week, for she had already formed the habit of thinking with 
 this friend, as though their two minds formed together the true 
 electric circle. 
 
 When Charley returned, he said the syrup was quite ready 
 to strain, and he had brought the flannel bag which mother 
 insisted was so much better than linen, though it took so much 
 longer he hated it. 
 
 "Indeed," said Netty, "the fibers of the wool catch the 
 impurities, and besides the meshes are closer." 
 
 " Spose so," says Charley. " The flannel is fine and the 
 linen strainer is coarse. That s the way I tell it." 
 
 "And yet, that does not quite convey the idea, my boy. 
 Learn to be accurate. Did you know that the fibers of linen are 
 straight and tubular, and that the fibers of wool and cotton are 
 Cuils, so fine that we do not recognize that they are so arranged? 
 
26 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 That is the reason why linen cannot be spun on the same 
 machinery with cotton and wool." 
 
 " I say Nett, you are too awfully improving. You re a 
 regular cyclopedia. Let s have a game of ball while the lasses 
 is straining." 
 
 He wanted to violate some propriety of the English 
 language. Nettie gaily assented, and they had a merry hour 
 together, for she was after all as full of gayety and fun as any 
 other young thing. 
 
 That night she began her reply, because her thoughts were 
 fresh and must needs be poured out. 
 
 That miserable old Cyclops haunted her and she must get 
 him off her mind. So she hastened with her dishwashing after 
 supper, brought up a pan of potatoes and washed them with a 
 clean brush kept for the purpose, drew on them a covering of 
 cold water, reset the table, and prepared the meat for cooking. 
 When all was done, she handed her father the newspaper, and 
 then went to her own room with a clear conscience. 
 
 Putting on a warm study gown which she had learned to 
 use in order to have her evenings unmolested when it was not 
 quite cold enough for a fire, she seated herself at her little study 
 table and began her letter. 
 
 MAPLE GROVE, April 6///, 1858. 
 
 My Dear Mr. Langdon: Now you wijl say that is stiff 
 and put on, so I will say Dear Old Teacher. 
 
 Your parable came duly, and was indeed most edifying and 
 quite to my mind. I never did feel flattered with the oak and 
 vine theory. The idea of trailing yourself all round and about, 
 and hanging and cringing and clinging to somebody else, seems 
 to me humiliating, not to say degrading. To feel that you are 
 taking more than you can give, seems to imply a sort of 
 intellectual mendicancy. If I receive, I also desire to give in 
 return, and when one is so weak and vine like, as you say, one 
 will only suffocate a friend by graceful and beautiful clinging. 
 Not that we can always repay in kind, or even in degree, but 
 there must be the quality of selfhood, to make our offerings 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 27 
 
 valuable. Now I know that my letters cannot be half as 
 valuable to you as yours are to me, but I hope I do not so 
 demand them by my weakness that you feel constrained to 
 write. If I thought so, I should say, not any more, my friend, 
 till I can pay my debts. No, I prefer your idea of equality of 
 aim, if not of achievement. I like the ring of that quotation 
 
 "The dove may murmur of the dove, but I, 
 An eagle, clang an eagle, to the sphere." 
 
 Now I have been reviewing the first book of the Odyssey, 
 and though my first reading produced little more effect than a 
 jumble of translated words, sadly misplaced, yet with your 
 helpful thought, I got several clear ideas. Among them was the 
 cause of the persecution of Ulysses by Neptune. He had 
 encountered Polyphemus, one of the great one-eyed Cyclops, 
 and had put out his one eye, leaving him still his great strength, 
 but stone blind. Blind, brute force is most fearful, and when it 
 is directed by old Superstition, most destructive. Is not that 
 the meaning? Had the wise Ulysses, in some shrewd introspec 
 tion, seen how this one-eyed monster was doing prodigies of evil, 
 and so put out his other eye that he might henceforth grope in 
 darkness, instead of seeing just enough to do the greatest amount 
 of harm? 
 
 I think you once said to me that a training that quickens the 
 mere intellect without the moral nature, might be a sort of one- 
 eyed Cyclops, and that total blindness would be better for the 
 world. I did not then quite comprehend your meaning, but I 
 see it now. I suppose we may be out of our depths in trying to 
 find the real significance of many of the old myths, but I confess 
 to a great curiosity to comprehend the meaning of the ancient 
 mythologies. They show such crude ideas of a One Supreme 
 power. And yet, sometimes one is led to think we are but little 
 wiser. Our notions ol God, and of what should be regarded as- 
 His providence, are so crude that I wonder we dare attempt to 
 impose our own notions upon others. And yet, all the religious 
 wars of Christendom have been waged, to compel others to ac 
 cept our dogmas. Think how fiercely Philip of Spain, sought to 
 force on the world the tenets and practices of Borne. I have 
 been reading the history ot late. How Leicester wrought the 
 destruction of John, of olden Bamaveldt, because he was not a 
 Presbyter, but believed in giving religious freedom to all. And 
 then the history of the Puritan warfare in England! What a 
 
28 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 dark book of history it unfolds! You know I was deep in that 
 when I last saw you. How shrewdly Queen Elizabeth escaped 
 the rneshes of her inquisitors who came to her with their ques 
 tions about the doctrine of transubstantiation. 
 
 " Our Lord took bread and brake it, 
 And what His word doth make it 
 That I believe and take it." 
 
 Are not many of these old theologians one-eyed Polyhemes? 
 Do not think me skeptical, for like Queen Bess I am ready to say, 
 
 " What his word doth make it (truth) 
 That I believe and take." 
 
 As to your suggestion about the contrasted intent of the 
 Iliad and Odyssey, I very much like it, and I recognize the fact 
 that another great work of antiquity, though it is not arranged 
 with such pure dramatic inter t, still carries out the same great 
 thought. Woman is the primal cause of evil in the one case, and 
 of return to rectitude and salvation in the other. I used to hate 
 the old story of Eve and the serpent. Eve was said to be 
 the mother of all living, and the first in transgression. Mary 
 the mother of the one who of all others offered himself a sacri 
 fice for the world s redemption, and, therefore, first in obedience. 
 I think I am getting better reconciled to this doctrine now. But 
 I wonder that Protestant theology has so strangely failed to com 
 prehend this last thought. I am little more than a child, but you 
 know our opinions are not rebuked, that "Out of the mouth 
 of babes and sucklings praise is perfected." The Greek epic 
 deals with more common forms of illustration; the divine 
 tragedy with more spiritual, but in the end grander condi 
 tions. And how the imagery is set forth, a beautiful garden, 
 on a sweet spring morning, (I must think it spring, when 
 our first parents set up their humble housekeeping) all aglow 
 with beauty and enlivened with song, every day bringing a 
 new delight till the bright but too tempting fruit becomes ripe, 
 and the over confiding woman was induced to eat and then 
 offer it to her companion. (Was it a greater wrong than to have 
 offered some bread?) But he eats, for his beloved offers it. Then 
 the long exile, the dreary outside world, the terrible murder by 
 the elder son, the outcast life, the inexpressible agony of the err 
 ing mother, the world lost in wretchedness and darkness with few 
 gleams ot light, ages rolling on ages, like a turbid flood. Then 
 the pure lamp kindled in the temple, the tender virgin Mary, 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 29 
 
 who obeys the Heavenly vision. And from that one life, so 
 brought from Heaven to earth, the great thought has grown that 
 self-sacrifice is the way that leads back to the gates of Eden, and 
 recreates the world. This old story, a portion of it older than the 
 Iliad and the Odyssey, you see, is full of the same thought, not 
 of the insignificance and inferiority of women, but of her tran 
 scendent power for good, or evil; but all the one-eyed prejudices 
 have fought against it since history began. They see her power 
 for evil, but not her equal power for good. 
 
 Pardon my strange ranting, my kind teacher, and accept my 
 grateful acknowledgement both for your parable and your de 
 lightful dissertation. 
 
 Your friend and pupil, 
 
 NETTIE WILSON. 
 
 After this writing, somewhat in the spirit of a Sophomore, 
 followed a refreshing night s sleep, and at dawn of day, her clear 
 eyes opened to its duties, she sprang cheerfully from her bed,, 
 and carefully dressed her hair; then, arrayed in her neat print 
 dress and apron, descended to the kitchen to prepare the morning 
 meal, while her mother went into the dairy. The perfect system 
 and nice division of labor in the household seemed to render work 
 a pleasure, and to give a great deal of leisure for study and rec 
 reation. 
 
 Neighbors often wondered how the Wilsons could afford so 
 many nice things about the house. The napkins had embroidered 
 letters in the corners, work done while Nettie was waiting for 
 the men to come to dinner. The parlor had divers ornaments of 
 applique work that looked like costly embroideries, all accom 
 plished at odd moments, and too cheap to be called an extrava 
 gance even in a frugal farmer s home. Mrs. Wilson had from 
 her early married life insisted on having a small allowance that 
 she could use without accounting for it, and this had enabled her 
 to keep up the appearance of things without worry or wrangle. 
 She had often seen women humiliated by having to beg and ex 
 plain, and stint and strive for little things, and she had determined 
 never to marry till she could have this concession made to her 
 
30 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 judgment in small matters. Some had said it was a foolish, al 
 most an unnatural thing for the woman to have a separate purse 
 and that it showed a want of family union, but she used to remark, 
 <k l find it usually falls out that where there is one purse, it is apt 
 to be in the husband s pocket when the wife needs it, and I pre 
 fer to know my own resources." 
 
 This experiment had worked so well that others began to copy 
 it, and there had grown up a comfortable spirit of independence 
 among their special friends. Some of the wise ones feared this 
 might lead to dangerous social consequences and occasionally a 
 good deacon or an aged local preacher inquired of Mr. Wilson if 
 it didn t make discord in the family to have the woman so inde 
 pendent. He used to answer, "Spell the word with an a. It 
 makes accord, not discord. I do not want my wife to ask me for 
 a dollar, when she wants a new five cent calico. If she is fit to 
 be my wife, she is fit to be trusted with a share of her own earn 
 ings, I should hope. And if she is fit to be the mother of my 
 children, I shall let her use her own good judgment about the 
 home they are to grow in, and the garments they wear. I never 
 heard an old robin find fault with his mate about the lining of 
 the nest." 
 
 CHAPTER IY. 
 
 Great apparent success followed the labors of the Key. 
 Horace Walworth, and he held a warm place in many hearts. 
 He was such a splendid looking man in the pulpit, and his voice 
 was so melodious, that it repaid one s efforts in going to church, 
 to hear him read the morning lesson, and the hymns of the open 
 ing exercises. Some old stubborn critics, like the people who 
 think hard bread better than soft, and prefer crust to crumbs, 
 sometimes ventured to say that there was a lack of real sound 
 ness and body to his sermons, but the majority felt them alto 
 gether above criticism. As the fall drew on, and the evenings 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 31 
 
 began to lengthen he proposed a series of revival meetings, and 
 with customary consideration for himself, suggested that an 
 Evangelist should be called in to aid in his arduous labors. This 
 was readily assented to, and a famous revivalist was called from 
 the East. His fiery zeal seemed harsh and crude by the side 
 of the pastor, whose popularity daily increased. He knew so 
 well how to comfort the soul grown sin sick! 
 
 Now this was not all a stroke of strategy, unless it belonged 
 to that unconscious cerebration of which philosophers speak. 
 He fully believed in himself, and recognized that a great deal 
 was due to his especial merits, and he evidently felt that the Lord 
 also recognized his worthiness. 
 
 In the meantime, his faithful and admiring wife struggled 
 with the duties of her new position. She undertook labors to 
 which she had never been accustomed, with the true spirit of a 
 martyr. The w r asher- woman who came once in two weeks, proved 
 to be a very poor ironer. Now, a badly laundered shirt-bosom 
 was not to be endured by this much admired clergyman. It was 
 vulgar. It was wanting in fitness. And, as no almond-eyed 
 celestial was at hand to give the desired gloss, his wife must 
 learn to do it with her own unused hands. 
 
 O what weary struggles many a young minister s wife has 
 undergone over the ironing board! Nothing is so stubborn 
 and refractory as the clerical shiit front, and should there be 
 "spot or wrinkle, or any such thing" upon it, every woman in 
 the congregation will look with pitying eyes upon that poor unfor 
 tunate minister. Poor Phillipia shed many tears, not only over 
 her own conscious failures, but over the ill-suppressed annoyance 
 of her husband. He was so humiliated, she felt, that she could 
 not be penitent enough. She was not very strong, and the heat 
 of the summer had added greatly to her discomfort. Then, too, 
 she wanted to lay her head on her mother s bosom, and tell her 
 all her new hopes and fears. She wanted also to show her how 
 grand a man her dear Horace was, and how far short she came of 
 
32 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 being worthy of her great honor in being his wife. But her 
 mother had to stay at home and care for Lily. She had been 
 suffering from fever, and its effects were still to be guarded 
 against. 
 
 Horace had little time for sympathy. Phillipia felt that 
 she must not tax him when he was so overtasked with his revival 
 work, which seemed so important. He sometimes indulged in 
 expressions of regret that she should, just at this special time, be 
 absent so much from the choir, and she often made almost super 
 human efforts to attend evening meetings that this disappoint 
 ment might not weigh too heavily upon him. 
 
 None but God can know the weary days of the young wife, 
 soon to become a joyful mother. The young husband, in the 
 fullness of his strength and absorbed in his usual affairs, so often 
 unwittingly hurts, past endurance, the super-sensitive wife, who, 
 for the sake of his love, bears so much anguish, and naturally 
 expects of him the most attentive care and the greatest tenderness. 
 
 Phillipia had felt that it would be a joy and an honor to be 
 come the mother of his children. She had so idealized his char 
 acter, had so gloated over his high moral nature, as she saw him, 
 that she felt that his children must surely ennoble humanity; 
 and the almost indifferent manner in which he seemed to regard 
 this honor was hard to bear. 
 
 Was it that he had found her wanting in the capacity to do 
 and bear what a wife should? Was she hindering him by childish 
 dependence and want of real capacity for companionship? She 
 tried always to listen and comprehend, but he frequently intimated 
 that her speech was without sound reason, and she ought to be 
 careful not to expose her ignorance by speaking of things about 
 which she knew so little. How wise was the injunction to wives 
 to ask their husbands at home! 
 
 To this she would reply with the deepest humility, "I told 
 you, dear, before you took me for better or for worse, that you 
 would find me unfit for your companionship, that I should often 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 33 
 
 seem to yon but a silly child, and I feared I should be a clog to 
 you, dragging you down from your high ideals to my puny reals. 
 But, dear, have patience with me now, and by and by I shall have 
 more strength." 
 
 To which Horace would reply, " My own dear love, you know 
 I said that I did not admire ladies who affected to be men. I 
 preferred you with just your tender clinging nature, and I do. 
 Who would wish his wife to be as wise as himself? All the trouble 
 is, you do not quite comprehend the humility God has so beauti 
 fully intended for women and sometimes, I fear, rebel in your 
 heart against it. He made man to be the head over this world, 
 and woman to be in subjection to her husband." 
 
 " I know it, dear, but sometimes I fear I do not make your 
 true ideal wife, which I so earnestly strive to do. It often seeras 
 to me that our feeble natures ought to be better disciplined, more 
 wisely cultivated, that we may not fall so far short of being real 
 companions. If our natures are so limited, would it not be wise 
 that we should attain to all that we are capable of reaching, rather 
 than to limit our feeble capacities by imperfect culture?" 
 
 This was trenching upon dangerous ground, and her wise 
 husband usually stopped her pretty remonstrances with a kiss. 
 What heart hunger of the wife is not allayed, if not appeased, 
 with a kiss, that tender emblem of perfect love. 
 
 "My dear Phillipia, you are all that I hoped, and more. If 
 you were wiser, I should not love you half so well. Never fear 
 that you are not sufficiently educated. I really detest those man- 
 ish women who study Latin and Greek, and even Hebrew. Next 
 we know some woman will give us critical readings of the Bible, 
 from the original text. Ludicrous, would it not be?" 
 
 " I suppose so," the meek wife would reply, "but I have often 
 almost envied men the power of doing it. Some how it seems 
 getting down to the very roots of truth." 
 
 Thus, despite his flattery of ignorance, the young wife was 
 beginning to have some desires for the "forbidden fruit," and he 
 
 3 
 
34 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 might yet be led to ask the question, "Ought women to learn the 
 alphabet?" 
 
 During the long lonely evenings in which she sat embroi 
 dering some dainty trifle, or trying some old tune on the piano, 
 her soul began to thirst for more wisdom. Should not a mother 
 be wise enough to rear her own children? This question led her 
 to take up some of her old studies. She must not forget the little 
 she knew. Her French had been sadly neglected, and she had 
 done less with her Botany than she had intended. When not 
 too weary, she would take a brief lesson, though she felt too feeble 
 for any serious undertaking, but laid her plans for the future. 
 She had a susceptible intellect and a ready memory, and already 
 her shrewd husband had found her little store of history a valu 
 able fund to draw from, instead of being compelled to look over 
 great times for "just this little item" that he wanted to complete 
 his illustrations. 
 
 At last the special revival, which had been participated in 
 by Baptists and Methodists, came to an end. The Evangelist was 
 called to new fields, and the harvest was to be garnered. Like 
 the old herdsmen of Abraham and Lot, there was strife, and some 
 recriminations and bitterness. The cooling down of a mass from 
 intense heat, is by no means always accomplished without flaw. 
 The deacons and pastors of the several churches held many con 
 sultations, and many schemes were laid to secure the lion s share 
 of the spoils. 
 
 But through all, the Rev. Horace Walworth came off victo 
 rious. He had the address to keep outwardly calm and gener 
 ous. He called a special meeting to which he invited all the 
 recent converts, and all the city pastors. The meeting was an 
 overflowing one. He most courteously invited the brethren to 
 assist in the opening exercises, and when these were duly per 
 formed he rose in his place and gave a brilliant history of the 
 revival work which had resulted from his prayerful interest in the 
 welfare of human souls. "And," he continued, "these dearly be- 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 35 
 
 loved brethren have come in and helped forward the work of the 
 L >rd, and we will not say they came in at the eleventh hour, but 
 that the Master is generous, and will give to each laborer his 
 penny. Now, my dearly beloved converts, our church will be 
 open next Friday afternoon to all who desire to walk with us in 
 this new and living way. Come with us and we will do you good. 
 I would like to see all who desire to belong to our communion 
 rise to their feet, as it is fair that it should be known that no un 
 due influence has been used to decide your choice." 
 
 He waited, and presently the congregation began to move. 
 One after another rose, till fully three-fourths of the new converts 
 were on their feet. 
 
 Then he said a few words of sweet encouragement and closed 
 his remarks with a fervent prayer. After this the hymn, "Am I 
 a Soldier of the Cross," was sung by the congregation, then he 
 courteously turned towards the other ministering brethren and 
 inquired if they would like to ask those who desired to unite with 
 their several communions to rise. They did not desire this, but 
 one of them rose and exhorted the converts to steadfastness of 
 purpose and soundness of doctrine. It was not wisely done, but 
 the sweet and gracious acquiescence of Mr. Wai worth seemed to 
 cover over all flaws, and he went home thoroughly self-satisfied. 
 
 The Sabbath following witnessed a great triumph for the new 
 minister. He had the satisfaction of admitting to the commun 
 ion of his church, about seventy members on profession of faith. 
 He had talked the whole matter over with his sympathizing wife, 
 who had selected the hymns and trained the choir, unfit as she 
 felt for the arduous duty. But she would not come short. She 
 had also selected and read to her husband, while he lay on his 
 study lounge and rested, some of the finest passages from dis 
 tinguished divines, appropriate to communion service, and the 
 reception of new members, and all unconsciously, her little criti 
 cisms opened up some striking veins of thought. 
 
 "Please mark those passages, my love," he said, "and if you 
 
36 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 would just note down that variation^ you suggested, it might 
 help my weary brain when I came to arrange my discourse. 
 What a darling wife you are! There," as she completed her lit 
 tle criticism, "that will do nicely. If I only had a glass of fresh 
 water, I could presently write. "When you go down, send Jetty 
 up with a pitcher and glass." 
 
 Not long after, the wife came up with the desired pitcher and 
 glass of water, and said Jetty was not in, so she had returned 
 herself. "That is so kind of you," he said. But he did not tell 
 her that she must not tax herselt for his convenience when she 
 was so little able to do it. 
 
 There are various forms of exaction, and it must be confessed 
 that the Reverend Horace Walworth s methods were mostly 
 amiable. His wife waited on him, because it was her pleasure 
 to do so. She accepted his patronage, because she so fully be 
 lieved in his superiority. 
 
 It was the Christmas Sunday when the great event of receiv 
 ing the new members occurred. The church had been beauti 
 fully decorated by loving hands with graceful mottoes wrought 
 in green, the choir sang in splendid tune, and all conspired to 
 make the day memorable. 
 
 Phillipia could not be present. She had awakened with some 
 strange sense of weakness following upon her excessive efforts to 
 aid by her personal suggestions where her hands could not assist, 
 and so Aunt Marty was called in to watch with her during the 
 morning. 
 
 Instead of asking anything for herself, she desired only that 
 a comfortable meal should be in readiness for her " dear Horace, 
 who would come home weary and hungry. 
 
 "Pears like de wimmins is all out n one piece," soliloquized 
 Aunt Marty. "My Kesiah was just so. No matter how any 
 thing hurted her so her Pomp was all right and had his fill of hoe 
 cake and bacon. An de selfish igiot would eat an lick his chops, 
 an 5 turn roun to the bed and ax, Is you bad, Kesiah? an go 
 long out an smoke and lay down and gwine ter sleep." 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 37 
 
 But she was somewhat reproved when the minister came in 
 and went immediately to his wife, and laid his head for a moment 
 on the pillow with her, and told her how he had missed her voice 
 in the choir, and how beautiful the services had been. 
 
 Then he came out and had his cosy meal, and after this, re 
 tired to his study to rest and be prepared for the evening servi 
 ces. A motherly neighbor, the wife of one of his Elders, came 
 in soon, and finding the poor young wife in tears, and noting her 
 strong efforts to suppress any expression of suffering, proposed to 
 call Mr. Wai worth and have the doctor sent for. To this the wife 
 objected, and Aunt Marty was dispatched so that he should not 
 be defrauded of his rest. 
 
 "My dear," remonstrated Mrs. Turner, "you will spoil your 
 husband. It aint well to teach him to be selfish at the outset. 
 Never make too light of your own aches and pains if you want 
 men to pity you. I spoilt my man, my sister tells me, by run- 
 n in and waitin on im the first year arter we was married. I 
 never let on ef I felt ever so bad, for fear of its doin him* some 
 harm, and now he lets me wait on him and the boys, and, git. my 
 own coal and water inter the bargain. 
 
 " No, Sister Walworth, you just let on and make all the ado 
 you want ter. It won t hurt folks a mite, and it ll make em 
 know that a woman s lite has some mighty hard places. I never 
 done it myself tor fear of hurtin Turner s feelins, but I d a sight 
 better than to be the slave I ve been. Turner s got rich, and he 
 often boasts how we begun without a cent, only two hundred 
 dollars that I had from my gran pa, and now lie has his hundreds 
 of acres, and his hundreds of critters a pasterin on em; and 
 when I wanted to send my Mary to the cademy, and a st him 
 fur money, he said he guest he knew too well how money came 
 to throw it away on the high education of gals." 
 
 Mrs. Turner s autobiography was here interrupted by the 
 arrival of a spruce young M. D., and she concluded by saying, 
 " sometime I ll give you my experience more complete." 
 
38 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 After noticing the sudden effect produced on the patient by 
 the doctor s entrance, Mrs. Turner called the young man out and 
 asked him if he would be so kind as to step up stairs and bestow 
 his company on the Rev. Mr. Walworth till she called him down. 
 To this he assented, and the two held a pleasant chat together 
 till tea time, when they descended, looked into the sick room fur 
 a moment and took their tea. They were bright and cheerful and 
 the sufferer was glad that her dear husband could be so pleasantly 
 entertained. 
 
 Mrs. Turner, meanwhile, carefully noticed the effect of the 
 doctor s presence. " It s a burnin shame that we haint no woman 
 doctor here, Sister Walworth, that is safe to trust with such poor 
 young things as you are, but somehow the good chances mostly 
 come to men. Now, I ve had lots of experience, but I never had 
 no eddication, and so maybe you d rather trust that little tow 
 headed whippersnapper with his whisker-ends all waxt like a 
 shoe thread, than me. I expected the old doctor who would have 
 seemed like a sort of father, but it seem he s had to go way out 
 on the peraer, and won t be home till midnight." 
 
 " Tell Horace to come and see me before he goes to meeting," 
 Mrs. Walworth whispered, and the good woman complied. 
 
 When he came, she insisted that elie felt better, and he 
 should go and take the doctor with him, and Aunt Marty could 
 call if there was any need. And thus, like a soldier who is going 
 to battle, the brave woman made no outcry, even though she 
 thought " perhaps this is the last kiss I shall ever give him." 
 
 When these two wise collegians were fairly out of the 
 house, Mrs. Turner took command. She sent for a couple of 
 her trusted neighbors and the nurse, who was but an inexperi 
 enced hand, but the best to be had, and thus prepared to help 
 this frail young being down to the gates of death, that a new 
 life might be brought up from its shadows. 
 
 Fortunately, u great nature " proved herself the wisest 
 " leech," and when the twain returned from church, the Rev. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 39 
 
 Horace was presented with the most wonderful of Christmas gifts, 
 a son, new landed on the shores of mortal life. 
 
 The pale, trembling mother, just escaped from what seemed 
 mortal peril, forgot her anguish to watch the new light of father 
 hood on his face, and to receive the kisses of tenderness on her 
 own brow. She felt that her happiness would be complete, if 
 only her dear mother and sister could share in her new joy, and 
 kiss and bless the wonderful child. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 During the days of slow convalescence, the neighbors, especi 
 ally the church members, were genuinely kind and thoughtful. 
 
 There is a large share of true helpfulness often found among 
 Western women that would surprise their Eastern eisters. Time 
 is of more value, for help is not easily obtained. Everything is 
 to be built anew, and hence there is often more discriminating 
 kindness and more genuine courtesy than one would anticipate. 
 This was shown as much by refraining from intrusion as by the 
 thoughtful preparation of nice dishes that might be difficult of 
 achievement for beginners. The Christmas baby was not so often 
 roused from its slumbers as it would have been, had there been 
 a troop of relatives to curiously invade the maternal sanctuary. 
 Good Mrs. Turner often came to see that mother and child were 
 well cared for, and so everything prospered and at the end of a 
 month Phillipia took her accustomed place at the table. Her 
 husband was radient with delight, and assured her that his cof 
 fee had not relished so for an age. 
 
 How radient the pale face became at such praise, and how 
 her heart beat with joy at the sense of being so valued! How 
 carefully she should look after his comfort now! She was sure 
 he must have felt dreadfully neglected during these last few 
 months. 
 
 And he? He was very glad that his wife could wait on him 
 
40 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 again, and he hoped she was not going to be too foolishly fond of 
 that baby, whose naming seemed to her of more importance than, 
 the naming of a continent. 
 
 But, at last the baby was named. Phillipia wanted to call 
 him for his father, but to this Horace objected. He had never 
 felt that his parents had done him justice. So the child was 
 christened after her own father, Charles Menloe, but even this 
 did not quite satisfy her foolish love. She so hoped he would 
 l>e like his father, and it almost pained her to find that he was 
 more like herself. 
 
 Horace was not very fond of children, he confessed, and 
 though he noticed the child because it pained the mother so keenly 
 if he did not, yet the finest elements of paternal love were not 
 highly developed. He had not been reared by a refined father, 
 though petted and spoiled by mother and sister. It is hard for a 
 fountain to rise above its source, and there were elements in his 
 nature that needed much and constant support to hold him to his 
 mnbitions and aspirations. Would the constant, yielding ten 
 derness of his wife work for good, or evil? 
 
 He was certainly fond of her, but was it the self-sacrificing 
 love of Christ for the Church? He did not pause to inquire, for 
 the passage most in his thoughts was, "Wives, submit yourselves 
 to your husbands." That great mystery of self-sacrificing love 
 had been but faintly revealed to him, either in his religious or 
 marital experience. He was ready to accept all, and to accept 
 without thinking of giving in return. And yet, the world credited 
 him with the greatest amount of unselfish devotion, and admired 
 the loving tenderness he gave his wife and child. When he 
 christened the baby, one wintry Sabbath morning, the pale mother 
 standing there in her Madonna-like beauty, his prayer touched 
 all hearts. 
 
 One day, shortly after this, when he had been called away to 
 attend a funeral, Mrs. Turner volunteered to stay and keep his 
 wife company. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 41 
 
 Mrs. Turner was the wife of a man reputed to be wealthy, 
 and also an elder in the Church. The family were formerly from 
 Pennsylvania, and she was of the old Scottish stock, so often 
 found in the region round about Pittsburg, a sturdy, honest, re 
 ligious race, hard working and unrefined, yet full of genuine 
 sympathy and ill concealed tenderness. 
 
 Her husband had more of education, and less of genuine 
 ness, though most people looking at her rough carroty hair now 
 turning grey, her broad shoulders, her great bony hands, and con 
 trasting her strong features, with the sleek well turned face and 
 good complexion of her husband, felt a sort of sympathetic pain 
 for the man. 
 
 "If he had only married his equal," some of his neighbors 
 would say, "it would have been so much better for him!" But 
 when they were married, he felt that he had made an advance in 
 life. She was not a beauty, but her complexion was fair, and her 
 hair soft and glossy, while her form was straight and supple. 
 Then she had a legacy from her grandfather that was quite an 
 item to the boy of twenty-one, and she had a good store of beds 
 and bedding such as few girls that he could count, possessed. 
 His family were not of high descent, according to the record, but 
 were poor tenants under an English farmer till they got help to 
 come to America. David was the eldest son, and there was no 
 money to give, or lend. So when he came of age, he got mar 
 ried, and rented some land in Eastern Ohio, and the two went to 
 work. The two hundred dollars from Molly s grandfather was 
 their main stock in trade. With it they bought a cheap team, 
 and the man of whom they rented furnished another. 
 
 Molly could plow as well as David, and so, while she got 
 the breakfast, he fed and harnessed the teams, and when break 
 fast was over she went with him to the field and kept step with 
 him at the plow. When the neighboring horns blew for noon, 
 she went to prepare dinner while he fed the horses, and so they 
 had begun, she taking part with him in the ruder labors of the 
 farm. 
 
42 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 When she came into Mrs. Walworth s she had her hands 
 full ot such comforts as she fancied her pastor s wife might lack. 
 " Now, here is a roll of butter, Sister Walworth, just new made," 
 said she, " and here is a pot of peach butter that I made last 
 fall, and I thought mebbe it would taste kind o new; and here 
 is a pot o lard that I rendered myself. Now, Turner, he does 
 most all the given, but I said to myself, this is my chance. 
 Wimmin hasn t so muckle chance as men. All the money, 
 somehow drops inter their pockets, and we have to look real 
 mean and stingy. But we don t feel a mite more so than the 
 men do, if we had any chance to show it. So I said to myself, 
 Turner won t never know ef I do give this little mite, not that 
 he would begrudge it if he gin it himself; but he d look kind o 
 savage if he found out that I d give on my own account. And 
 yit, I don t feel that I m a stealin, any mor n the slaves do when 
 they sly off a tew chickens from Ole Mars. Fact^is, Iv e done 
 my share to git the property, and I can t make it seem right to 
 be looked down on as though I was only a child." 
 
 " O, but I am sure, Sister Turner, that he doesn t feel like 
 that. He must surely fully value your labors, and your care of 
 the children." 
 
 "Now, Sister Walworth, don t you take it at all amiss if I say 
 you don t know much about that jist yit. It s kind o honey 
 moon to you and your man now, but when years and hard luggin 
 of babies, and workin at all kinds of hard stints has taken off 
 the gloss, it mayn t be quite so nice. 
 
 " Maybe it won t sound just honey-sweet to be told that you 
 don t own any of the property, and that you haint no rights to say 
 anything about the children. I wanted our ri to have eddication, 
 but Turner says money is better to help folks along. Now, 1 
 see different. I don t like a jewel in a swine s snout. I like 
 ter see things kinder compare. I says ter him, i Mary would be 
 a lady ef she lied a chance. The tother gals was kind o coarse 
 lookin like me, but Mary, she takes arter Turner, and she could 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 43- 
 
 be polished up and not have to take such hard wear as they do, 
 and ef they could help persuade Turner, they would. But laws, 
 he says the gal is quite as likely to marry a good workin sort of 
 a feller as though she could play on the pinner and sing like a 
 seraphin. 
 
 " Do you know, Sister Walworth, that she can catch a tune 
 like a mockin bird? And it does seem a shame that she has had 
 to stay home and milk the cows and feed the pigs, and them lazy 
 boys a loDin round jist like their father." 
 
 It must be explained that the Turners had lived three miles- 
 out of town till recently. They had now moved quite near. 
 
 " When we lived out to the big farm, it used to be like this 
 from one week s end to another, arter corn was laid by. As soon 
 as Turner got up from breakfast he d say i I m goin to town to 
 day. He d go out, saddle his hoss, and off he d go. Then 
 Bob, as soon as his dad had got out n hearin, would say, Dad s 
 gone, and I m goin to town to-day. Then Hank, he d wait till 
 he seen Bob s horse s heels clatterin down the rise, and he d say 
 k Dad and Bob ve gone to town, and I m goin , so there, and 
 he d saddle another hoss and away he d go; and then Mike, 
 who d been pickin his teeth, he d say, i well, I ll be bound I aint 
 a going ter stay ter home and the whole kerboodle gone tor 
 town, and so he d go, though I d tell him not to stir a blessed 
 step till he d fed the critters in the yard and watered em, and we 
 had to keep em up corn growin time. But he was out of hearin 
 like a flash of lightnin. Then I d look round and find that they 
 hadn t done a single chore only to feed the teams. By middle 
 of forenoon the cattle would be a bawlin round and gittin so dry 
 and hungry that Mary and me had ter go out and give them their 
 feed, and then pump water till I thought my back and arms 
 would break in tu. 
 
 "Well, I declare, I used to git that mad and stirred up, I d 
 swun to man I d never give them critters a cock of hay or a pail 
 oi water again, and when the boys came streakin home at night, 
 
44 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 I used to vum and declare to goodness gracious that I d let the 
 whole farm rot afore I d go a step to feed the critters or carry 
 swill to the pigs. And yit the next day, and the next, it was jist 
 the same story over and over. The old man and the boys went 
 to town, the pigs would begin to squeal, the critters to bawl, the 
 colts to nicker, and even the old torn turkey would go strut- 
 tin and goblin till I could not stand it, and so went out and fed, 
 and watered, and kind o sympathized with the poor lonesome 
 brutes. But that old gobler did make me kind o spiteful as he 
 scraped his wings on the ground and strutted round so much 
 like Turner when he d made a good bargain." 
 
 " It must have tried your patience, I am sure, Sister 
 Turner," said Phillipia gently, as she pressed her precious baby 
 to her bosom. " What do you suppose your sons were doing in 
 town all these idle days T 
 
 " Doin S Why, loafing round, sitting on nail kegs in stores 
 and whittling or kickin their heels agin the steps of the hotel, 
 or some sich other profitable employment. When I d say to 
 Turner, l Now dad, what good do them boys git loafin round in 
 that shape? he d say, smoothe as ile, That s as much as wim- 
 min knows. Why, mother, they re a watchin round ter larn 
 how men do bizziness. 
 
 " Yes, sez I, learning how men swig beer, I ll wager. And 
 that s what mostly troubles me. My old man never gits drunk, 
 but he smells as bad as a beer berrel plugged with tobaccer. And 
 them boys, in my opinion, toilers in their dad s tracks. Now, 
 Turner s a Christian man, and a good Elder, and he never swears, 
 and I don t low the boys does, but I aint clar what all this may 
 come to. 
 
 " Now we ve got nearer town, and they have their butcher s 
 shop, and are doin a big hand of business, but somehow I du 
 wish men was cleaner. I can t feel right to have Mary left to 
 marry some coarse, tobaccer-chawin man, and have to work as 
 hard as I have, and then be told that she don t am a cent on t. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 45 
 
 "To be sure, if she was to set up a separate bisness, since 
 our laws was mended last winter, or have any money fall to her, 
 here in Illinois if she is only sharp enough to always keep it in 
 her own hands, she can call it her own. But as shure as she lets 
 her good man handle it, the law says she has gin it to him; but 
 bless you, it never lets him give anything to her so that he can t 
 take it away, and do you bear it in mind, Sister "Walworth." 
 
 "I am sure I shall never have any cause to think of any 
 question ot property, as between my husband and myself, dear 
 Mrs. Turner," said Phillipia very gently, "and I fear it often makes 
 trouble in families where a woman keeps the money in her own 
 hands. My husband says he fears this setting up in her own 
 name by a woman, and doing separate business, leads to quarrels 
 and divorces, and is contrary to the true idea of marriage such as 
 God intended." 
 
 "Sister Walworth, I hairit had no eddication, but I have had 
 pretty good eyes and ears, and them sometimes helps a body to 
 git an insight without going to college. It aint the woman s 
 havin money that makes the trouble; its because there is a nar- 
 rer, selfish spirit into both on em. El a man is worth callin a 
 man, du you spose he will make a rumpus because his wife aims 
 her own livin in bizness when he can t du well by her? Or that 
 he is goin tu make a fuss because she has money in bank, and 
 wants to keep it agin a rainy day? Does she fight him when he 
 gits a little ahead o bizness! Some wimmin are fools, and some 
 men are jist fit to be their husbands, but good honest men who 
 are willin to du as they would be done ter, aint agoin to make 
 a fuss because their wives has a chance to du with a little what 
 they all the time du with a good deal. The man has always the 
 chance to give away or bill away half or two-thirds of the prop 
 erty they have both earned, or that he has converted, the courts 
 say, and if there is a rag of manhood to him as big as your hand, 
 he wont twit his wife and make a quarrel with her because she 
 likes the feel of a little money in her pocket that she calls her 
 
46 PHILLTPIA, 
 
 own, and don t have to count ter him for it like a six year old 
 child? It stirs up my bile, to hear men talk so like igiots, and 
 take it for granted that they can make April fools on us every 
 day in the year. No, Sister Walworth, remember what I say, 
 du your duties as a wife, and stick ter your own money if you 
 have any." 
 
 "I know you mean well, Sister Turner, but don t you think 
 those women who have been trying to get the vote for women, 
 are really doing harm?" said Mrs. Walworth. 
 
 "Now sister, I du hope you wont git the wool pulled all over 
 yer pretty eyes. Ef I, and all the wimmin in this State had our 
 say, du you think there would be so good a chance to make drunk 
 ards of our boys and brutes of our sons-in-law? Now there is 
 Betsey s husband, as good a worker as you could wish to see, and 
 he was stiddy when he got married, but when he was teamin to 
 town, gittin oft his crap and he d be tired, he d go to the saloon 
 and git a nip, and now it seems as though he nipt it half the time. 
 The poor girl has been to that saloon man a dozen times, and 
 begged him not to sell her man licker, an he d be es smooth as a 
 gander s neck and say, Mrs. Byrne, you s prise me, I never 
 dreamed your husband took too much, and he a justice of the 
 peace, and all that. Nobody 11 believe you if you tell it." I ve 
 begged Turner to take it in hand, but he says he don t like tu 
 interfere betwixt husband and wife. Bah! it makes me sick to 
 hear such twaddle, and I ve said to Turner, " Ef I was a man and 
 an Elder, and called myself a Christian, and a voter, I d be a man, 
 or a mouse, or a long-tailed rat, or somethin . I wouldn t be a 
 ninny and a nothin ." 
 
 Now, if wimmin could vote, wouldn t they make it hot for 
 sich scoundrils, destroyin the home and makin brutes of the 
 fathers of their children, and lyin in wait for the little shavers as 
 soon as they git into pants? Ef that baby s par was to git to be a 
 drunkard, wouldn t you want ter vote the abominable stuff out of 
 creation?" 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 47 
 
 "I do not wonder at your strong feeling, Sister Turner; but 
 you suppose a case quite impossible, my good friend. But I be 
 lieve in that case, or even if my boy were endangered, I should 
 want to vote or do anything else that would protect him, bless 
 the darling baby! A mother must wish she could protect her 
 child through all its growing years, and to follow it till safely 
 within the kingdom of God." 
 
 "You do say it beautifully, Sister Wai worth, and don t you 
 forgit it, as you meander through the crookid ways of life, as the 
 old Methody brother used ter say. 
 
 "I tell you sister, I ve seen heaps ot things, and thought of a 
 good many more. Now it does appear hard, for instance, that a 
 good Christian mother isn t reckoned wise enough to be the gar- 
 deen of her own children when their pa dies, unless she gives 
 bonds for it, while their pa can do jist as he pleases with em, and 
 have all their airnins till they re twenty-one, and no court nor 
 nothin to bother with. 
 
 " Now ef I was ter die, Turner d wear a long face for a month 
 or six weeks, and then he d be a perkin up and shinin round 
 some spruce young widder, or some gal that wasn t older than my 
 Ann Jane, and he d have the house all fixt up, and not a word 
 said about property or anything of the sort ; and ef he seen fit to 
 turn all our children out, no court nor church would have a w r ord 
 to say. Its all Turner s. 
 
 " But ef it was him, instead of me, laws a massy! them boys 
 would want the estate settled afore he was cold in his grave. The 
 law in this State is about the same tor a woman as in most o 
 States, I suppose. Where I was broughten up, they took away all 
 but a third of the personal property left after the debts was paid 
 and the use of one-third of the landed property, and if the child- 
 ern want of age, they pinted gardeens, and everything seemed 
 kind of broke up." 
 
 "That does seem rather hard, and it may make it proper for 
 women to have something in their own name. I hadn t thought 
 
48 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 about that, but I now recall that my father made his will, and 
 left all to my mother to use as she saw best, and she was to be 
 our guardian. I really had not thought of this before. I thank 
 you for telling me. Young women are generally very igno 
 rant about these things. But you do Elder Turner injustice, I 
 am sure, in thinking him capable of so soon forgetting your faith 
 ful services." 
 
 "Sister Walworth, I know a little of human nater, and if I 
 aint put that matter strait, I ll promise to come back and ask his 
 parding." 
 
 "I suppose it is only natural that we wives should be very 
 jealous of the honor of our husband s, Sister Turner, and I hope 
 it may be long before we, or any of us have the trial, even of 
 imagining a separation." 
 
 "Well, I may say it is to be hoped, but I sometimes feel as 
 though my days were short. I m often took with a sharp pain 
 about my heart, a kind of a strain I got once a runnin to put out 
 a prairer fire when it was a gittin inter the corn, and the men 
 was all off to town. Mary and I worked till we fairly dropped 
 down, and sence that, ef I take a cold, its apt to catch me pretty 
 strong. And its kind o on my mind for some time, to see ef I 
 could manage in some way ter get you to let Mary come and larn 
 music, so s t the poor child wont have to always do the hardest 
 kind of work, arid be nothin but a drudge when I am gone." 
 
 "Why yes, Sister Turner, I should like nothing better. She 
 can come and take lessons and use my piano for practice, and it 
 will be a good chance for me to review my exercises." 
 
 "You sha n t loose nothin by it, Sister Walworth, though 
 maybe I can t git the money right reglar. But I ll manage it 
 some way. But there comes Brother Walworth and I must be 
 gittin home." 
 
 So the poor, rich women put on her hood and shawl, kissed 
 the baby, hugged its mother in her arms, and went out with grate 
 ful tears in ner eyes. And Phillipia pondered these things in 
 her heart. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 49 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 A year from the receipt of Horace Walworth s first letter by 
 his old room-mate, Edward Langdon received a second. Some 
 few notes had passed between them, but nothing of any moment 
 since the preceding April. Langdon was again enjoying a brief 
 vacation alter his fashion ; that is, doing a vast amount of study, 
 interspersed with long walks. 
 
 He had commenced a course of Theology ; for his purpose 
 was to become a true teacher of that Gospel he so earnestly ac 
 cepted. His education was so thorough that he had no need to 
 make daily reviews, for he was a critical scholar in elementary, 
 as well as in advanced studies, and his memory was as accurate as 
 a stereotype plate. 
 
 Once mastered, a science was forever his own. So now, he 
 had his entire evenings for study, and under the guidance of an 
 able college professor he was making rapid advances. 
 
 After two hours of hard reading before breakfast, he had, 
 since that meal, gone out for a walk. Like Isaac he was fond of 
 meditating in the fields, and after a brisk walk of a mile, he 
 seated himself on a bench he had constructed for his own use and 
 placed where it commanded a lovely view of river and plain. 
 
 What a world lay before him, what a world would come after 
 him! This A r alley, a sort of "paradise restored to man," would 
 yet be as populous as Palmyra of old, and the question of that 
 future lay in the hearts of the men and women of the present. 
 
 As the sun began to warm the atmosphere, there occurred 
 one of those beautiful phenomena so frequently seen in broad, 
 level lands. The distant tenements and their homely surround 
 ings began to draw near, and to assume a distinctness that belongs 
 usually to close proximity, while the homes that had been mere 
 specks on the distant horizon, became palatial in the grandeur of 
 their proportions. 
 
50 THILLIPIA, 
 
 As by magic, the fair panorama unfolded. Mere cabins be 
 came splendid mansions, and comfortable homes were magnified 
 into baronial castles, while the little beginnings of timber belts, 
 assumed the proportions of elegant parks. The beautiful mirage 
 had come on so suddenly, while Langdon s mind was held in a 
 sort of introspection, that it seemed almost like a vision, answer 
 ing to his question of the future. 
 
 But what ol the moral standing of this wonderful "to be." 
 Then he thought of the great question that had almost reached 
 its culmination. Should freedom rule over all this fair land, or 
 should it be given up to pride and luxury on one hand, and the 
 degradation of the slave on the other, the Nemesis of the ages 
 that would not release itself from its victim, but would insepar 
 ably exist, a torture and a destroyer? 
 
 "It must not be," he said aloud. "God has reserved this 
 land, working at its creation while the old Eastern world was try 
 ing the experiment of subjecting the will of the masses to that 
 of one supreme ruler. Asia, with its uncounted millions, knew 
 only despotism. Africa, once a glory among all lands, had 
 through pride and oppression become the very heel, base to the 
 last degree of corruption and degradation. But Africa shall yet 
 be redeemed, lor the word of inspiration has said, Look unto me 
 and be ye saved, all ye ends of the earth. Yes, this land must 
 be in very truth a land of sure, well-ordered, wisely-restrained 
 freedom, and we, the young men of the land, must at whatever 
 cost, see to it that the word of God shall not be hindered." 
 
 While he thus soliloquized, the wonder went on to its fulfill 
 ment. Higher rose the palaces, broader grew the landscape. At 
 one point he saw clearly the spire of a church some thirty miles 
 distant, and the aspiring Lombardy poplars stood up like a long 
 row of bayonets just gleaming in the sunshine. He started. "Is 
 this a presage of some dreadful future?" he asked himself. "No, 
 it is not a presage but a mirage. But, and if it were? ye have 
 not yet resisted unto blood striving against sin. It must needs 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 51 
 
 be that offences come, but woe unto him by whom the offence 
 cometh. True to all the world s history," he said as he rose and 
 shook back his curling auburn hair, displaying a broad white fore 
 head, not smooth, but knotty, a study over which a phrenologist 
 would have gloated. His clear grey eyes had a searching, pene 
 trating expression, but as he shook himself out of his day dream 
 there were little ripples of mirthfulness that showed him to be a 
 humorist, as well as a philosopher. 
 
 His face was too thin for beauty, but the soft brown beard, 
 darker than his hair, covered the too sharp chin, not wholly 
 concealing a very beautiful mouth, so mobile in its expression as 
 to more than hint the latent power of the orator. 
 
 His voice was clear and ringing, and if wanting in chest 
 power, yet vibrating with the depth of passional expression. 
 His form, not above the middle stature, was rather thin, but 
 straight as a wand, and quite as supple. And now a wind from 
 the southwest stirred the dead grass to a gentle murmur, 
 seeming to order back the stately mansions to their real 
 condition of very humble cabins, and the lordly castles to the 
 simple homes of the industrious and thrifty farmers. He gazed 
 for a moment over the disenchanted landscape, and then turned 
 back to his study chamber, thinking of sweet Nettie Wilson, and 
 wondering if he should not get a letter from her this morning. 
 
 As he entered the house, his hostess handed him a letter, 
 and without looking, he ascended to his chamber, thinking only 
 of Nettie, and wondering what fresh new thought she had pre 
 pared for his delectation. 
 
 It was well for the self-complacency of the Rev. Horace, 
 that he did not catch the expression of Langdon s face as he 
 read the address in the somewhat ornate, though crude, hand 
 writing of the reverend gentlemen. He opened it, however, and 
 read with interest the effusion of his somewhat patronizing 
 friend. 
 
52 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 AUBURNDELL, April Is/, 1860. 
 My Dear Old Chum: 
 
 It seems almost a life-time since I wrote you at any length, 
 for really my time has been most fully, and I trust profitably, 
 employed, as you will have gathered from the papers I have 
 sent you. Indeed, the work of the Lord seems to have prospered 
 in my hands to a wonderful degree. The revival, which began 
 last fall, has scarcely subsided yet. Souls are being saved, and 
 the Church built up beyond the expectation of everybody. 
 
 My salary, which was at first quite small, is now increased, 
 and there is the greatest enthusiasm manifested over my sermons, 
 as well as over the music, which has become so much improved 
 since we came here. My wife is a fine musician, and she has, in 
 her quiet, delicate way, brought the choir into a condition of 
 harmony seldom attained except in large cities. I sent you the 
 account of the baptism of our boy. It made quite a sensation. 
 
 It did seem at first that his early advent was inopportune. 
 Phillipia was so much needed in the choir, and I was so 
 exhausted with constant labor, that I really needed her to wait 
 on me and read to me a great deal. The dear girl did all that 
 she could, under the circumstances, and the sympathy of the 
 people was such that it helped out wonderfully. I do not think, 
 though, I should greatly rejoice in a large family. Children are 
 so absorbing to the hearts of women, that it takes them from our 
 immediate interests to an alarming degree. And then, a young 
 mother s foolish joys and sorrows are sometimes disturbing to a 
 man s repose, and hinder the development of sublime thoughts. 
 Yesterday, the dear, foolish young mother called me down from 
 the study to see the baby laugh as he lay in his bath, utterly 
 deranging a sublime expression. 
 
 She, in her foolish fondness, had idealized him into a water 
 nymph, and I believe she really thinks this little piece of pink 
 and white flesh is absolute perfection. One cannot but smile at 
 the infatuation, but a man cannot quite enter into these things, 
 though he has to kiss the uplifted face of the foolish mother, 
 and whistle and chirp to the young manikin. It s silly to the 
 last degree, a man of thought fully knows, but in the weaker 
 and softer sex, it is really refreshing and delightful. 
 
 And this is where, my dear ^ed, you and I differ so 
 diametrically. Do you suppose this graceful, pretty wife, and 
 this baby-kin, are to be trusted with great thoughts and respon- 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 53 
 
 sibilities? Could she rule the state or direct the finances of the 
 world? What sort of a preacher would she be in the sacred 
 desk? !N"o, no; a thousand times no. Let man do the hard 
 work and the hard thinking of the world, and let woman be his 
 care, as well as his amusement and delight. 
 
 We have some disturbers here, that one would not expect. 
 For instance, the other day, while I was out of town attending a 
 funeral, one of my elder s wives came in to spend the afternoon 
 with wife and baby. She is a good soul, but very illiterate. I 
 pity Mr. Turner, for he is far more cultivated than his wife. 
 The poor woman has a grievance in the fact that her husband 
 does not see fit to educate her youngest daughter to be a useless 
 lady, and this led her to a long discussion of the natural right 
 of women to have equal guardianship and direction in regard to 
 the bringing up of children and the use of property. 
 
 At last she got to the question of voting in town affairs, 
 which some fanatical woman has stirred up. It seems that a 
 son-in-law of her s has got to drinking rather freely, and Mrs. 
 T. thinks that dram-shops ought to be shut up altogether, and 
 believes that here is a question on which women should have a 
 right to vote. 
 
 If you will believe me, the talk of this uneducated woman 
 really stirred my wife up till she said, "I feel, Horace, that when 
 our boy is old enough to be influenced by the example of the 
 outside world, I should want to vote, if that was the only way to 
 secure prohibition." When I tried to show her how foolish her 
 ideas were and how such a thing would be likely to break up the 
 peace of families, she replied in a Socratic, womanish way by 
 asking if the school suffrage where it had been tried had seemed 
 such an evil. She had been talking with a friend from Kansas. 
 
 And then, with a look in her eyes I never saw before, she 
 said, " Suppose dear Menlo to be twenty-one, and I knew that if 
 he went alone to the polls, he would be surrounded by rude men, 
 and possibly, because of his refinement, taunted and tempted, do 
 you think I would not rather take his arm and go with him, and 
 compel the respect of even a profligate crowd! " I was thunder 
 struck. It is surely the little foxes that spoil the vines. 
 
 Of course I argued with her, but I am sorry to be obliged 
 to confess that motherhood is too maudlin to comprehend great 
 and really sound arguments. 
 
 But, my dear fellow, do not suppose I am discontented with 
 
54: PHILLIPIA, 
 
 the loveliest of her sex. She is still the tender, clinging vine, 
 and in small ways a helper and an inspiration. 
 
 Her reading, though altogether of a feminine character, has 
 been choice, and I often find through her, apt quotations from 
 Longfellow and Bryant that give a pretty finish to my discourses. 
 She is just now reading Whittier, a birthday present from her 
 mother, and you would, I am sure, enjoy her exquisite readings. 
 I tell her our boy ought to be a poet, as she is feeding him on 
 poetic nectar. 
 
 And now, my dear Langdon, let me express the hope that 
 you will find means to go to Andover. The young men who 
 graduate from that school, I find are sounder in doctrine, and by 
 no means tainted with modern heresy. Then there is a gloss and 
 polish that makes a man show off for all that he is worth, and 
 gives him leave to maintain some self assertion. And this last, 
 my good friend, is of imminent importance. Oberlin is well 
 enough in a sort of Democratic way, but it is really wanting in 
 style. That comes to me so naturally, that it is not so great a 
 misfortune to me to have missed it, as for some others. But you, 
 my fides Achates, do really need to put on that dignity and self- 
 assertion that Andover men are so sure to attain. Was not an 
 ancestor ol yours a Cambridge President? You ought to have 
 the genuine polish. By the way, I met an Andover man the 
 other day, and we had a good time talking over some of the 
 topics ot the times. He thinks Garrison and Phillips and Fos 
 ter, and Foster s wife, that strong minded female, by their fanati 
 cism are bringing sure destruction upon the nation. My Oberlin 
 training had left me a little unsound on this subject, I fear, and 
 the peculiar state of things in Kansas has made Western people 
 almost rabid on the question of slavery. But, I shall be cautious- 
 of my expressions in the future. On this other, and twin ques 
 tion of Woman s Eights, that seems more rife West than East, I 
 feel that my mind is solid. Woman is not fitted to hold the helm 
 of state, and she ought to learn her just place, of loving depend 
 ence on her true head. If you search the Scriptures thoroughly, 
 I am sure your doubts will all be resolved, and you will come into 
 a clearer understanding of the great and divine order so wisely 
 established for the real good and happiness ot all. 
 Your ever faithful chum, 
 
 HORACE WALWORTH. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 55 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 As Langdon read the letter, his face assumed its most quizzi 
 cal expression. "How he does condescend!" he said. " As for 
 myself I shall have to allude to the first person singular with a 
 little i. And he really expects me to answer him, the great Rev. 
 Horace Walworth. Well, I can but try," and he drew himself 
 up to his writing table and began. 
 
 ROCK RIVER VALLEY, April th, 1860. 
 My Well Remembered Chum : 
 
 Your gracious communication was duly received and contents 
 carefully noted this morning. It would seem that fortune has 
 more than smiled upon you, it has laughed outright. How envi 
 able the lot of some men seems. You must have been born under 
 a most auspicious star, or rather, a star most nobly aspected. 
 Few men commence life under such fortunate influences. I see 
 Venus was your godmother, and women are to be forever 
 your servitors. ~No woman will grudge to lay herself at your 
 feet and beseech you to accept her choicest offerings. I marvel 
 that you should not have mentioned the Christmas dressing gown, 
 lined with rose colored silk, that I am sure the sisters should 
 have presented you, unless your good mother-in-law had antici 
 pated "them, as well as the embroidered slippers. But I fear me, 
 you will yet ieel that you have sacrificed more than was wise iu 
 making Miss Menloe Mrs. Walworth, for as Bacon hath it, "He 
 that hath wife and children hath given hostages to fortune; for 
 they are impediments to great enterprises, either of virtue or mis 
 chief. Certainly the best works, and of greatest merit tor the 
 public have proceeded from the unmarried or childless men, 
 which both in affection and means have married and endowed 
 the public." 
 
 He had forgotten about his cotemporary, Shakespeare, but 
 that is not strange, the poor playwright was an insignificant fel 
 low in his own time, and doubtless his neighbors pitied good, 
 thrifty Mistress Anna Hathaway for having wedded such a 
 worthless companion. 
 
 But he does derive a moral good from the marriage state in 
 as much as he says, " Yet it were great reason that those who have 
 
56 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 children should have great care of future times, unto which they 
 know that they must transmit their dearest pledges." This fairly 
 accords with the sentiment, " I will turn the hearts of the fathers 
 to the children, and the hearts of the children to the fathers, lest 
 I smite the earth with a curse." Now this last quotation may 
 possibly lead to the conclusion that the great author of wedlock, 
 and the manifest designer of posterity through this sacred rela 
 tion, was the inspirer of the sentiment, "Lo children are a herit 
 age of the Lord, and the fruit of the womb His reward. Happy 
 is the man that hath his quiver full of them. He shall not be 
 ashamed, but shall stand with the enemy in the gates." 
 
 I must confess to a queer sort of feeling when I hear men 
 express themselves selfishly as to their posterity. "VVe, certainly, 
 vdio are citizens of so great and growing a land, ought to rejoice 
 that it may be largely the inheritance of our own blood. There 
 is a loyalty in it, that no alien can bring; a comprehension of its 
 great office among the nations, that comes partly through the 
 elements that make up our being, and partly from thoughts 
 which they hear expressed before they fully comprehend lan 
 guage. They are, or should be, saturated from birth, with the 
 very essence of freedom. 
 
 You will pardon me for answering your last remarks first. 
 Excuse my saying, "Xo sir, no Andover for me." I want to go 
 out as a teacher of a religion adapted to the common wants, the 
 daily needs of a very democratic humanity. Christ, our great 
 teacher came down to the level of the masses and made himself a 
 human brother, that he might be touched with the feeling of our 
 infirmities. He never assumed. "If I your Lord and Master 
 have washed your feet, ye ought also to wash one another s." I 
 do not think I have the natural gifts and graces that would befit 
 an Andover man, even though very remotely descended from 
 a Cambridge President. 
 
 As to those great disturbers of the peace, you name, I look 
 upon them as the John the Baptists of the true reform that shall 
 soon be ushered in: I know not if through the aroused convictions 
 of men, or through the sound of a trumpet and the terrible voices 
 of war. But they must cry aloud and spare not, and woe be to 
 them if they preach not this their gospel. 
 
 When I hear of such daubing with untempered mortar, as 
 some Andover men have done, I am led to cry out, "Degenerate 
 sons of noble fathers! How long can God be with you, how long 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 57 
 
 suffer you!" Apologists for slavery should never be found in 
 the Church of God in the North. I could be patient with a 
 Southern man who has grown up in its midst, and who sees the 
 slave in the light of a dependant, and a minor, who can never 
 come of age, just as some men still regard women, and place them 
 in the same legal category with infants and idiots. 
 
 The Southern gentlemen has seen the slave emasculated of 
 all the higher attributes of manhood, till he feels that he has not 
 even the latent capacity for independent selfhood, but must be 
 held in subjection like a wayward child. 
 
 But we who have seen a Frederick Douglass and a Henry 
 Highland Garnet have no such excuse. Do you recall how 
 grandly he protested against even the patronage of his clerical 
 brethren who sought to comfort Garnet by saying that in heaven 
 he would be as white as they. "No, as God lives I do protest 
 against losing my individuality. I will not be a white angel." 
 We know their grand possibilities. 
 
 Did you ever think of the low condition of that race which 
 Moses led out of Egypt. They would not even hear him when 
 he told them God s purpose to lead them out of bondage. So the 
 Lord sent him with his message to Pharoah. Yet this abject 
 people were led and instructed till they have become the law giv 
 ers of the world, and Christ, the great healer of all the sins and 
 corruptions of humanity, was of this stock. Thus at this clay, the 
 basis of all civil law among the most advanced nations is the 
 Mosaic Ten Commandments, and all the religious institutions of 
 the civilized world, rest on the loving words of Jesus, which have 
 blossomed out in all philanthropies. We have in modern civ 
 ilization still the two tables, the thou shalt not of law, as admin 
 istered by the state the thou shalt, of the tender humanities and 
 philanthropies of Him who was lifted up that He might draw all 
 men to Him. 
 
 ]N"ow the work of Moses was begun by a grand faith in human 
 capacity. He had been initiated into the sacred mysteries of 
 Egypt, which had hitherto been withheld from the common peo 
 ple, but his sublime faith grasped the thought of human possi 
 bilities, and he contemplated raising all this abject people to the 
 dignity of a royal priesthood. The grand democracy of Moses is 
 what we to-day aspire to; and within its possibilities there were 
 distinguished women not a few, like Deborah, and the daughters 
 of Zelophead also claimed their father s inheritance. Solomon s 
 
58 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 ideal woman was not much of a clinging vine, and Philip s four 
 daughters must have been almost as strong-minded as Abby Kelly 
 Foster, Lucretia Mott, Lucy Stone and Antoinette Brown, a 
 goodly quartette, who are now preaching the gospel, or rather 
 prophesying. But Paul did not rebuke them. He accepted 
 their hospitality like a true gentleman and encouraged their 
 labors. And then, when he sums up the work of Christianity, 
 in the third chapter of Galatians, he shows the ultimate oneness 
 of all human souls, "Neither Jew nor Greek, neither bond nor 
 free, neither male nor female, but all are one in Christ." He 
 also shows that the Gentiles, having never been under the law 
 could not be held to its bondage. If wives are to be as obedient 
 and respectful as Sarah, woe be to the modern Abrahams, for the 
 ancient one was told to hearken unto the voice of his wife Sarah, 
 when she sent out the bond woman and her son, and Isaac was 
 the son of the free woman and not of the bond. My dear Wai- 
 worth pardon me this long dissertation, but I felt bound to rescue 
 Paul from the hands of the Philistines. 
 
 When I find Queen Yictoria doing any more foolish things 
 than the male predecessors of her line, because she is fondling her 
 baby and even admiring it in its bath, then I may concede that 
 our corner stone was not hewn square. When it is set forth that 
 governments derive their just power from the consent of the gov 
 erned, I do not wonder your wife should want to defend, even 
 by the vote, that precious baby s future. And I imagine that in 
 the time to come, some gracious women, full of the sacred ten 
 derness of mother love, which I take it is the God principle of 
 the feminine nature, will declare that love from the sacred desk, 
 and it will fall with a soothing tenderness unknown to our 
 bearded lips. 
 
 God bless the baby, and the baby s mother, and may they 
 never want the truest manly strength on which to lean. 
 
 ^T ^ ^ 
 
 \ our ever cynical chum, 
 
 EDWARD LANGDON. 
 
 This long letter finished, he turned to his books with some 
 new impulses to study. Was it possible that the teaching of the 
 mrdern Church was so far inferior to that of the Bible? In fact, 
 so far below even the ancient Chatholic Church, which had its 
 virgin mother as a comforter for all suffering motherhood, and a 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 59 
 
 sisterhood of saints. True, the great thought of the divine na 
 ture ot motherhood had been sometimes perverted, but had it not 
 a tenderness unknown to Protestant faiths? In some way this 
 living principle must be lifted from its sepulcher, and sent forth 
 for the renovation and comfort of the world. 
 
 As he read on, he began to feel a perplexity like that of the 
 anatomist, when searching a dead body for the location of a 
 human soul, which seems to have eluded the grasp of the men 
 wise in their own conceits. He leaned back and repeated, "Thou 
 hast hidden these things from the wise and prudent and hast 
 revealed them unto babes. Even so Father, for so it seemed good 
 in Thy sight. 
 
 Then he began to repeat the first chapter of John. "In the 
 beginning was the word." Yes, here we have it, and not so far 
 away from our comprehension either. The word was the expres 
 sion of a thought, God s thought of love to man, the tender 
 human brother, feeling for all our needs, and pitying even our 
 sad infirmities. He set aside all dogmas, he would none of the 
 traditions of the elders, but demanded a simple, "Thus saith the 
 Lord;" an appeal to the deep consciousness of the soul. 
 
 How foolish the teaching based on traditions that the honest 
 human heart must feel compelled to set aside! How grand that 
 conception of human nature that Christ evinced, when He said, 
 "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them 
 that hate you, and praj for them that despitefully use you and 
 persecute you." And yet, sometimes the world in its denial ot 
 the truth, turns so far aside, that the good cannot be done, the 
 refiner s fire cannot, by the warmth of love devour the impurities. 
 Then comes that fearful "change of front, of the universe," the 
 martial trumpet, the clangor of arms. 
 
 He was too much disturbed to take kindly to Mosheim, and 
 so concluded to relieve his mind by writing to Xettie. 
 
60 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 HOCK RIVER Y ALLEY, April kth, 1860. 
 My Dear Pupil and Friend: 
 
 I have been disturbed anew with the Oak and the Vine of 
 which I wrote you a year ago. My old chum has again favored 
 me with his delightful theory which he thinks he has beautifully 
 verified; but I read in his boastful lines, only the selfish egotist, 
 who desires the homage and service of all, and the easiest possi 
 ble time lor himself. He hints that his lovely wife, in the new 
 glory of motherhood, is beginning to question of the future of 
 her tender baby, and to shrink in anticipation of the time when 
 he shall go forth in his pure young manhood, to encounter the 
 unchained foes of humanity. She even thinks, that rather than 
 see her son defiled by bad example, and taunted and tempted 
 into evil ways, she would be willing to cast a vote in town meet 
 ing, standing by his side. 
 
 I am seriously afraid that his vine will be an oak after all. 
 He feels that he has done a wonderful work, and that his popu 
 larity is fully assured. Bat some how, I do not get the genuine 
 ring of the true metal. I should fear for the result should any 
 foe assail. 
 
 But I did not mean to say much about this matter, for I too 
 have a vein of selfishness that impels me to venture to do now, 
 what I had thought to wait upon till my own position should be 
 assured. But I feel that I may be risking more than I, in my 
 selfishness, feel willing to hazard. You and I, my dear Xettie, 
 have been for some years, I trust, confidential friends, and I begin 
 to find the circle of my thoughts incomplete till it has touched 
 yours. Now the conviction has dawned upon me, that my life 
 would lose half its value if any person should come between us. 
 I realize that in your wider relation of a student in a large school 
 you will meet many young men who may seem far more worthy 
 of your regard than my poor self, but I am sure you will find no 
 one who will so need you, as your old teacher. You know I am 
 poor, and have no influential friends to aid me into place, that I 
 shall literally have to conquer fortune, if it is ever mine. All the 
 recommend 1 can bring is my great need, and my willingness to 
 do the best I can, with my limited powers, to be worthy of the 
 purest and most enduring friendship that I am capable of feeling. 
 You suit my fancy. I feel the fine qualities of your nature to 
 the deepest sources of my being. I want to be assured of the 
 perpetuity of this friendship, and ultimately to a sacred right 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 61 
 
 to your life-long companionship. I have for years dreamed that 
 somewhere in the future, there was a home pre-empted for my 
 beloved wife, Nettie, and myself, and that we should be the 
 sharers of each others "dearest excellencies" to the end of our 
 mortal lives. 
 
 Maybe it is only a dream, but until your "No" shall utterly 
 dispel it, I shall hug the fancy to my heart and call you mine in 
 every pure unselfish thought, in every true and noble aspiration. 
 
 And my cherished friend I will not ask of you to be un 
 equally yoked with me, " For in true marriage lies nor equal nor 
 unequal." I should despise myself if I could ask, and you, if 
 you could consent to be my humble slave, and make yourself less 
 than equal to your highest capacity, that I might lord it over 
 your intellect, and receive from you the homage of a subject. 
 
 I want your free, equal, royal love, and shall hope to compel, 
 by my true manliness, the same homage from you, that I shall 
 be constrained to offer you, for your true womanliness. And 
 should I prove selfish and exacting, resist such encroachments as 
 contrary to my promise, and unworthy the love of a Christian 
 husband and a true gentleman. 
 
 And now, dear Nettie, I throw myself upon your sweet 
 charity. "For indeed, I love you." 
 
 Yours faithfully, 
 
 EDWARD LANGDON. 
 
 To this letter he speedily received answer to this effect: 
 
 OBERLIN, April %th, 1860. 
 My Dear Old Friend and Teacher : 
 
 You surely could never have thought any other young man 
 could be admitted to the close and loyal friendship that I have 
 felt for you since you first went home with me from spelling 
 school, six years ago, in order to protect me against the rude big 
 boys who were standing outside of the door, and betting that they 
 would go with me. Faith in your loyalty seems as natural as my 
 heath, and if I should find ten thousand nice young men, ready 
 to proffer me their admiration, I should not be content unless you 
 stood at the head and made yourself, as then, my guard and 
 protector. 
 
 But then, dear friend, I have never thought of you as a 
 suitor; and a love letter, the very first I ever received, and the 
 sweet flattery your generous appreciation so modestly bestows, 
 
62 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 have almost .turned my head, and I fear may make me a little 
 behind my class to-morrow. I am afraid the letter I shall carry 
 in my bosom, will distract me from any wise professor s lectures, 
 and I shall not fully comprehend his postulates, or follow clearly 
 his conclusions. 
 
 But he, of course, will not know the folly of which my wise 
 teacher, whom he has so often complimented as having been such 
 a thorough instructor, especially in the Greek verb, has been 
 guilty. But it will be only for a day, and then my pulse will be 
 normal, and you will always be in imagination standing near me 
 to guard me from the rougher ways of life. You see I do not 
 say no ; I think you have held me in such sacred nearness that I 
 should have felt bitterly wronged at the possibility of a rival, and 
 the unspoken "yes" has been growing in my heart daring all 
 these years that you have guarded and led my intellect up the 
 rugged, but shining paths ot knowledge. 
 
 But for seeing you read Latin and Greek, I should not have 
 thought them possible for a girl, and your praise of my first efforts 
 in Geometry, filled me with the ambition to be a mathematician. 
 
 And thus, whatever intellectual gains I have made, I have 
 virtually been indebted to your assistance and encouragement for 
 making, and hence you have some high claims. I will not dis 
 parage your judgment by saying that I am unworthy the honor 
 you bestow, for I shall at least try to merit your true regard. 
 
 But it will seem a little strange to think of you as a lover, 
 as I hear some girls think aloud of theirs; and I rather believe I 
 shall try to develop some new theory in this regard. Has Homer 
 left us any dramatization of the fine thoughts that spring up 
 between two who wisely and truly love each other? Is not 
 friendship the infant that by careful nurture grows up to the full 
 stature of love? And should not people marry because their lives 
 will be forever wanting in completeness, without just such com 
 plementary fulfillment? I do not think I could fall in love. I 
 should have to grow into it, and to feel so fully assured of the 
 qualities of head and heart of my chosen companion, that distrust 
 would be impossible. 
 
 I am glad you do not feel that you ought to be in any 
 other sense my superior than in the power that belongs to you by 
 virtue of true manhood. I could honor you as Sarah did Abra 
 ham, and doubtless like her should, in possible cases, insist on 
 your concessions to my convictions of duty. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 63 
 
 I often say that Sarah was a real lady, and if my husband 
 should become a captain ol a military company, or a justice of 
 the peace, 1 should do like Mrs. Painter, who always speaks of 
 her husband as Mr. Squire Painter, and thinks that her neighbor, 
 Mrs. Stedman, is wanting in propriety because she calls her hus 
 band Ruf us, instead of saying Captain Stedrnan. So you see you 
 will be duly honored, or at least your office will. 
 
 On this question of the relations of those who are truly mar 
 ried, I like Tennyson s thought, "the two-celled heart;" and 
 surely that one organ cannot well be divided against itself, one 
 half honored, and the other dishonored. 
 
 What a funny love letter I am writing; but as I am but a 
 beginner, you will pardon all short comings. 
 
 And now, dear friend, I want to ask you if you ever thought 
 my notions specially strange and unwomanly. My classmates 
 occasionally open their eyes in astonishment at some of my 
 thoughts, so frankly expressed. For instance, we were at table 
 one day, and something was said about Political Economy and 
 Civil Rights, etc. The topic was introduced by my vis-a-vis, and 
 seemed in a sort of way addressed to me. I answered with all 
 the frankness of conviction, and remarked that it seemed to me 
 that our government was not administered with reference to the 
 highest interests of the masses, but was rather tending to the 
 fostering of monopolies, and the widening of social distinctions 
 based upon wealth and power. I said too, that I keenly felt the 
 treatment women were receiving in Congress. Our petitions 
 were meeting with the utmost contempt, and petition was the 
 sacred refuge of the disfranchised, the very horns of the altar to 
 which the most unfortunate should be allowed to cling. For 
 myself, I said, I felt so outraged at the fact, that I should hence 
 forth advocate the equal political rights of women. If men 
 would not vote as we conscientiously felt to be right, we ought 
 to vote ourselves. I wish you could have seen the ladies at the 
 table. Some of them held the morsels of meat they had just 
 taken poised on their forks, and opened their pretty lips in won 
 der. The young men seemed less astonished, though they smiled 
 pityingly down from their heights of manliness. 
 
 I did not dream of the sensation I was creating till that 
 evening, when I received a summons to the private parlor of our 
 dear lady principal. You know what a darling soul she is, but 
 oh! so conservative that she hardly dares to take a lull breath. 
 
64 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 When I came in, she bade me be seated, and with the very 
 kindest intention, began her gentle reprimand. 
 
 "My dear Miss Wilson, I was greatly pained to hear of your 
 dinner conversation. Of course, there was nothing morally 
 wrong in what you said, but I think it makes a bad impression 
 when a lady speaks of asserting her rights. We were made to be 
 in subjection to the higher wisdom of man, and the influence of 
 such remarks will, I fear, be unsalutary; and we w r ish to avoid, 
 here, at least, all occasion for reproach." 
 
 My dear Mrs. - , said I, please accept my apology for 
 
 any unintentional breach of decorum. I could not wittingly in 
 fringe any necessary rule. But I may not see some things from 
 your standpoint. While man was educated, and woman unedu 
 cated, she was compelled to look up to his higher wisdom; and 
 even yet, the balance of opportunity is on his side, and we shall 
 still be compelled to reverence that which is truly superior, and 
 especially that which is eminently just. But for that which is 
 wanting in principle, and subversive of the highest good ot the 
 world woman, it seems to me, should be the last to keep silence, 
 or to be veiled with false modesty. And for this place, are we 
 not here to learn the higher and nobler expressions of truth, to 
 develop grander possibilities of Christian civilization than the 
 world has hitherto known ? And has not this college, the first 
 modern one that has opened its doors to women, testified to the 
 
 reat truth that in Christ Jesus there is neither male nor female?" 
 was a little carried away in my earnestness and the good woman, 
 I fear, was shocked beyond measure. 
 
 "Do not be excited, my dear child," she said very gently. 
 " We will wait on the Lord for guidance." So we knelt down and 
 asked direction. When we rose, she kissed me, and said she was 
 sure I meant well, only I had got some strange ideas, and she 
 hoped I would be more guarded in my expression hereafter. 
 
 I am afraid I am not as humble as I ought to be, and I 
 wonder if my habit of speaking and writing so freely to you, has led 
 me into a want of that nice discretion that is so much approved 
 by the world. May be I shall have to learn the habits of the 
 vine, after all. 
 
 Yours faithfully, 
 
 ANNETTE WILSON. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 65 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The fateful Presidential year had arrived, when the great 
 question of National Solidity was to be tested, against the assump 
 tions of States Rights. Were we a nation, with one common 
 bond ol equal law, based upon the Declaration of Independence, 
 or were we a loose Confederacy of States, each with its own code 
 of rights, and each at liberty to take itself out ol the National 
 family, or remain at pleasure? The nominating convention of 
 the Republican party was to be held in Chicago, and already the 
 sound of hammers was heard, building the wigwam that was to 
 witness one of the grandest popular displays the nation had 
 hitherto witnessed. Speculation was rife. The political party 
 long in power, had mistaken the channel, and the ship of state 
 was drifting with the tide, and almost beyond the control of the 
 helm. "Who should be found capable of steering it through the 
 rocky straits? The new party was confident. Great names were 
 mentioned. Seward, the astute lawyer and the shrewd diplomat, 
 it was thought by many, must be the coming man. 
 
 Salmon P. Chase was another to whom many eyes were 
 turning. He had been the first member of the Senate, to break 
 the cordon so strongly held round the interests of slavery, and he 
 had been true to his pledges. 
 
 There was another name on the lips of some, that of a tall 
 lank man, almost rude in his appearance, with no pretension to 
 fine culture or polished manners. He had, by some almost unac 
 countable chance, come before the world in his debates with one 
 of the most wily politicians of the age, and his quaint manner of 
 overthrowing his adversary might have been compared with some 
 of the exploits of Christian, as conceived by John Bunyan. That 
 Abraham Lincoln could detect a sham when he saw it, and was 
 not to be terrified by stone lines, all who knew the man fully 
 realized. 
 
66 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 Thus the political cauldron seethed and bubbled till the time 
 came, "Big with the fate of Caesar and of Rome." To those who 
 had the happiness to be present in the wigwam on that august 
 occasion, the scene can never be forgotten while memory lasts. 
 The vast hall was filled to its utmost capacity, at an early hour. 
 Men and women thronged the galleries, and filled all but the 
 spaces allotted to the delegates, and the platform reserved for the 
 officers. The North was represented by her best and noblest. 
 Many wore bright locks then that are now frosted with age; 
 many whose names were a power, whose discrowned heads lie 
 low. 
 
 George Ashmun, of Massachusetts, was called to the speak 
 er s chair. As he stood up proudly among his fellow men, his 
 rich voice rolled out in clear and distinct tones, as though he had 
 been taught to speak in the face of the winds that stir the hem 
 locks on the hills. The voice is now hushed, that called that 
 mighty concourse to order. 
 
 Scanning the platform where the delegates sat was a con 
 spicuous figure with hair and beard frosted by anxious care, more 
 than by years, Joshua R. Giddings. He was rightly named 
 Joshua, for he had been the leader of a host whose forces were 
 towards the Holy Land of equal freedom. 
 
 Horace Greeley, the man who had done such valiant deeds for 
 his kind, by keeping an untrammeled press where so many were 
 venal, represented Oregon, because the distance was too great for 
 the delegates who would have come from that distant land. Not 
 
 o 
 
 even the U. P. Railroad existed at that eventful period. 
 
 After the organization of the Convention, the committee on 
 credentials having reported, that on platform and resolutions 
 was duly appointed to do its accustomed work. When the com 
 mittee reported, and article by article was taken up, there occurred 
 a most humiliating incident. One article declared the natural 
 equality of man, and pledged the Republican party to the main 
 tenance of this fundamental principle. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 67 
 
 When the vote was called on this, a thundering "No," 
 drowned the voices of the affirinants. Confusion prevailed. The 
 hoary-headed Giddings rose, and bowed with grief, sought to 
 defend this foundation doctrine of the government. It was in 
 vain, and with tears streaming down his cheeks, he left the hall. 
 Then there came upon the platform one whose gracetul form 
 and clear ringing accents have had but few peers, during this last 
 half century, the true patriot, the chivalrous defender of the in 
 alienable rights of all human beings, George William Curtis, 
 one of the delegates from Xew York. 
 
 " Has it come to this," he said, " that we, who claim to be 
 especially the defenders of the inalienable rights of man, are 
 prepared to vote down the very substance of the Declaration of 
 Independence?" He poured out his contempt, his grief, his 
 shame, till the vast auditorium rang with cheers. Then he moved 
 the reconsideration of the vote, and amid loud acclamations, the 
 shameful act was repudiated, the Declaration vindicated, and a 
 committee was sent to bring back the grand old veteran, who 
 in thrilling tones rebuked the recreant children of patriotic sires. 
 It was worth half a lifetime of ordinary events to have listened 
 to this old man eloquent, as he poured out the grief of his great 
 soul in burning words of rebuke and humiliation, his once high 
 hopes that this was to be a land of freemen, instead of a pande 
 monium of despotism, where the cries of the slave, and the crack 
 of the driver s lash, and the clank of the bondman s chains, should 
 drown the sounds of peaceful liberty, and make us a by word and 
 a mockery, even to the most absolute despotisms of the old world. 
 
 How earnestly he entreated these sons of Revolutionary 
 lathers to redeem the proud heritage they had sought to leave 
 unincumbered, but now "all mortgaged" to slavery. 
 
 The better self of the Republican party was brought back to 
 humiliation and right reason, and those who would have pan 
 dered to oppression were silenced. A great spirit of nationality 
 was struggling in its first birth throes. 
 
68 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 Then came the adoption of a strong, grand platform, not the 
 timid utterance oE a party who feared that defeat would over 
 throw their foundations, and wrest justice from the throne of the 
 universe. They had faith in God and humanity. 
 
 All this time, women sat and listened breathlessly to those 
 counsels. Never before had they so fully entered into the spirit 
 of a great political contest. "Was it that it involved the dearest 
 interests of their lives, the possible desolation of their homes, the 
 offering up of their sons on the altar of freedom? Some of them 
 had read and advocated the doctrines of Elihu Burritt, that all 
 difficulties should be settled by peaceable arbitration, and that 
 wars would soon cease, with all their barbaric glory, but their real 
 moral shame. But whatever their views, they were filled with 
 the spirit of patriotism, and thrilled with the recital of wrong, 
 and when the vote on the platform of the party was taken, it was 
 not only ratified by the thundering aye of the men, but by the 
 waving of white handkerchiefs and the hand-clapping of women. 
 They comprehended that what had been " sown in weakness was 
 being raised in power." Their petitions for the slave were being 
 heard, "their cries had entered into the ears of the Lord of Sab- 
 aoth." 
 
 Then came the strife of nomination. The friends of Wm. 
 H. Seward were confident of success. It was a most auspicious 
 time. His birthday would be on the morrow, and his personal 
 friends, among them many zealous ladies, said it would be a well 
 merited compliment to his life long fidelity to the great princi 
 ples of the government. 
 
 But others remembered that he had, not very long before, 
 shown signs of moral weakness in his memorable speech on 
 capital and labor, a speech made for Southern ears and indicating 
 that capital might have some indefeasible rights over labor. It 
 was a guarded speech, but it betrayed him into the hands of his 
 enemies, and compelled his defeat. Those who had seen and 
 heard him when that fatal speech was made, remembered that he 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 69 
 
 rose with nervous trembling and blanched lips. He had tried to 
 convince himself that he could appease the South, and prevent 
 that collision that he feared. What a lesson to the men of policy 
 and worldly wisdom. "He that is first shall be last." The ark 
 of the Lord needs not our continuous steadying when He orders 
 it forward. Undoubtedly he then stood as our greatest statesman. 
 Since the days of the Adamses, no man of such fine culture, and 
 such astuteness had graced the halls of Congress, but the wise 
 was taken in his own craftiness. The common sense of the 
 masses had been affronted and they rejected him. True he had 
 among politicians some implacable enemies, but they could not 
 have prevailed, had he not betrayed himself in the estimation of 
 the people. 
 
 Chase had many friends, but his forces were not well arrayed. 
 He was strong in debate, and more trusted than many, but he 
 had not mastered the hearts of the people. 
 
 What is that subtle power, by which some men divine, and 
 through divining, hold the masses, and fill them with grand con 
 fidence, and compel them to follow, as the needle does the pole? 
 If a man lacks this, though he were wise as Solomon and as 
 worthy of honor as any of the sages of the world, his name will 
 compel no enthusiasm, and he can never be a successful leader. 
 
 It was the third day of that grand convention of men and 
 women, when the name of Abraham Lincoln was brought forward. 
 Xot till now had the true enthusiasm of the masses been stirred, 
 and those who managed the convention saw the sign by which 
 men conquer. William H. Seward had no pet name. Salmon 
 P. Chase, stately and dignified as a Roman Senator, could not 
 be patted on the back and jocularly accosted by a crowd. But 
 Abraham Lincoln, "Honest old Abe," had quite another ring. 
 The farmer on his broad prairie would stop his team and have a 
 friendly claque with him, as he and little Willy were riding out 
 into some obscure district to attend a school meeting, and encour 
 age the people to have better schools. They knew too how he 
 
70 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 had met the Little Giant, that prince of political schemers, 
 Stephen A. Douglas, and defeated him in argument. He made 
 the people laugh, he made them weep if need be; his arguments 
 were not broad like Chase s, nor subtle like Seward s, but 
 shrewdly following from seemingly narrow premises, he hit the 
 center of the mark at every shot. 
 
 This logic, especially the rare reductio ad absordum, had told 
 on the people, and he had been summoned East and West, and 
 his almost rude, and quite original methods, had compelled the 
 admiration of learned professors, and masters of logic and rhetoric. 
 
 Yote after vote showed where the sympathies of the people 
 centered, till at last it was seen that he must be the leader of the 
 host. 
 
 Then came the resolution to make the nomination unani 
 mous. It was a noble sight to witness, as the several delegations 
 filed in, and through their chairman announced the desire of their 
 several States to make the nomination unanimous for Abraham 
 Lincoln. Then a delegation was chosen, consisting of the chair 
 man of each delegation to carry the news to Springfield. 
 
 Edward Langdon was a delegate to this convention and he 
 saw with almost prophetic vision, the "impending crisis." He 
 felt that this election must decide the great question of the exten 
 sion, or limitation of slavery in the immediate future. 
 
 In the meantime, Lincoln s neighbors had heard through the 
 tattling telegraph, of the great honor conferred upon their towns 
 man and friend, and knowing his simple and temperate habits, 
 sent in baskets of wine and other delicacies with which to treat 
 the expected messengers. He thanked them kindly, but bade 
 them take back their well meant gifts. He had never kept wine, 
 and he would not now begin. If his guests were thirsty, they 
 could drink cold water with him. 
 
 For this simple fidelity to principle how much does our 
 Nation owe! Had he been a man who, amid the cares of state, 
 could have been cheated into forgetfulness of honor and justice, 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 71 
 
 where would our Nation now stand? Dismembered fragments, 
 "a world in ruins," the great experiment of popular government 
 only half tried, before a grand catastrophe! 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 On the return of the delegates from Chicago, Edward Lang- 
 don found himself called upon to aid in the canvass, which seemed 
 to him so important, that he laid aside his books of Theology, 
 and for some weeks devoted himself to the study of the Constitu 
 tion of the United States, and the political history of the Nation 
 from its first organization. In a letter to Nettie he thus set forth 
 his convictions. 
 
 ROCK RIVER, July 20t/i, 1860. 
 My Dear Nettie: 
 
 Since my assurance of your -perfect friendship, I feel that 
 any change in my plans of life, should be communicated to you, 
 before anything is definitely arranged, because your interests, as 
 well as mine will be involved. You know how earnest my pur 
 pose has been to prepare myself to be the bearer of gospel tidings 
 to the poor and needy of this world, and towards this I have bent 
 my energies. 
 
 My liabilities for my education are now cancelled, so that I 
 am, in the sense of liberation from debt, a free man, and hence, 
 so far, am at liberty to turn my attention in any direction that 
 may seem seriously indicated. I wrote you my impressions 
 of the Chicago convention and my conviction that there is an 
 important crisis in our National condition. I remember when I 
 was at school at M., before I entered college, during the Kansas 
 struggles, I heard a very remarkable speech made by a lady. It 
 was the first time I had ever seen a woman on the platform. 
 She was getting aid for Kansas, and I recall how earnestly she 
 set forth the true condition of the Nation, on the great issue, 
 that, as she said, was finding its first battle ground on the broad 
 plains of Kansas. She declared "that our government had been 
 recreant to the sacred pledges of our fathers, and unless we 
 should now arise in our might, and defend the cause of freedom 
 against the encroachments of the slave power, we should deserve 
 
72 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 to be destroyed for our perjured faith, and blotted out from the 
 book of Nations. She conjured the young men, when the time 
 should come, which she plainly foresaw, to be on the Lord s side. 
 I shall never forget the thrill of real manly patriotism this speech 
 aroused, and I have from that time watched with clearer vision 
 the oncoming of events. Some things then said of the nature ot 
 the franchise and its true meaning to the individual has led me 
 to see without surprise, the course of some earnest women. If 
 evil counsels should prevail, and the Nation become involved in 
 war, or worse still, should sink to the baseness of denying the 
 blood that bought us, would not women be as great sufferers as 
 men? Our fathers pledged their lives, their fortunes and their 
 sacred honors to the maintenance of that grand Declaration of 
 Independence, "We hold these truths to be self evident, that 
 all men are created equal, endowed with certain inalienable rights, 
 among which is the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of hap 
 piness, and for the maintenance of these, all just governments 
 are instituted among men, deriving their just power from the 
 consent of the governed." Do you wonder, that in view of the 
 fact that slavery has been permitted to intrench itself in the very 
 citadel of the Nation, Jefferson should have left on record his 
 solemn declaration, "I tremble for my country when I think that 
 God is just." The Fugitive Slave bill and the decision of Chief 
 Justice Taney, include us all in the guilt, North as well as 
 South. I know not which is the more guilty. 
 
 But sure I am, that as God lives, lie will speedily call us to 
 account. Should the party now in power again succeed, we shall 
 be carried away captive as a Nation; and should the reawakened 
 concience of the people lead to the election of Abraham Lincoln, 
 there may come desperate strife. We have seen it foreshadowed 
 in Kansas. And yet, my darling, if it cannot be avoided I shall 
 be compelled to become a soldier, and uphold with the sword, the 
 principles set forth by the fathers, the gospel of equality before 
 the law for all mankind. Now you are, I trust, just as deeply 
 interested as I am in this momentous question, and if I go into 
 this political canvass, as I am urged to do, instead of graduating 
 from Theology as I might, next spring, the chances are that I 
 shall be called on to do the part of a soldier in one way or another. 
 
 As a minister, I might exempt myself from military duty. 
 Would you advise me to it? Or shall I prepare myself by my 
 utmost energy, to rouse the people to redress the wrong they have 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 73 
 
 so long tolerated, and to save the Nation from impending destruc 
 tion. Should I throw myself into this canvass, I shall seek to 
 prepare for no weak, uncertain work, but to do intelligently and 
 valiantly what my great grandfather would have done in a case 
 like mine. 
 
 Now, my dear girl, do you comprehend the possible sac 
 rifice? and what is your answer? Shall I seek to waken the latent 
 patriotism of the people, or shall I drift with the current. I 
 acknowledge that I feel the personal sacrifice to be great, and I 
 do not forget my widowed mother and my brave young brother. 
 But I also remember my country, I remember the human hopes 
 that rest on the success of our great experiment. Let me hear 
 from your own true heart, the voice of wisdom which comes from 
 a brave and loving woman, so that I may know how to speak to 
 the women that will come to hear; the mothers whose sons 
 may be called to defend the Nation s life, the wives who may 
 become widowed, the sweet young maidens who will never know 
 the devotion and self sacrifice of true love, but will be left with 
 unkissed lips and lonely hearts, because the love that might have 
 been, has been untimely blighted. 
 
 Your ever devoted, 
 
 EDWARD LANGDON. 
 
 As Langdon went to the office with his letter to Nettie he 
 received one from his old chum. He had not heard from him 
 for nearly a year and a quarter, and it was with no small amount 
 of curiosity that he opened and read, 
 
 AUBUKND^LL, July 25//J, 1860. 
 My Dear Old Chum: 
 
 I have been waiting in expectancy ot a letter from you since 
 I saw your name among the delegates to Chicago. But since 
 you are silent, I must speak. I have been talking with one of 
 my deacons about the state of affairs in the Nation, and he thinks 
 a great mistake has been made by the Republican party in the 
 nomination ol such a man as Lincoln. He says he is no states 
 man, and will be sure to stir up strite between North and South, 
 and that we needed a man such as Henry Clay was, who would 
 know how to make compromises, and get over troubles in an easy 
 way. He thinks it a iew men could be hung North, as John 
 Brown was South, it would make the South peaceable and the 
 North could go on and be prosperous. 
 
74 PHILLIP!^ , 
 
 I am afraid we have not sufficiently considered the faith of 
 compromises, and are rushing blindly upon destruction. I had 
 the pleasure of a visit with some very pleasant Southern gentle 
 men not long since, and they say that it is as sure to bring on a 
 war as the sun is to rise, if we elect Abraham Lincoln. A ma 
 jority of my congregation are strong on the anti-slavery side, so 
 I have to be pretty careful how I express any opinions. I say 
 to them that I am a minister of the gospel, and women and min 
 isters should keep silent on such questions. You may be sure, I 
 am glad that Phillipia has no decided opinions on these questions, 
 or she might bring me into some difficulties. Indeed, I was 
 almost alraid for her discretion when she read from Whittier 
 the "Slave Mother s Lament." If you remember it begins: 
 
 "Gone! gone! sold and gone 
 To the rice swamp dark and lone. 
 ***** 
 
 From Virginia s hills and waters, 
 Woe is me my stolen daughters." 
 
 or something to that effect. She read as though her heart was 
 breaking, and I had to get the book and hide it for fear of her 
 reading it to Mother Turner. That night when we had gone to 
 bed, she said, "Horace dear, what if it were possible that our 
 children could be made slaves? Aunt Marty told me to-day how 
 her husband was sold down the Mississippi, and how her youngest 
 baby was sold so that she could go with her mistress to visit her 
 mother and stay the summer in Vermont and they said her 
 baby would be in the way and they must leave it at home. She 
 made a fuss about it, and her master said she shouldn t have it if 
 she was such a fool, and so it was sold." Aunty Marty is an old 
 colored woman induced to leave her master by some abolitionists. 
 I told her if she was going to believe all that such an igno 
 rant wench told, she would be in a fine state. No* doubt Aunt 
 Marty would have neglected and beaten her own baby, and would 
 have petted and spoiled her master s if she could have kept them 
 both. 
 
 She replied that a man could not, she believed, quite fathom 
 a mothers love. She said a mother might appear foolish in her 
 fondness, but it seemed to be God s plan, so that she should not 
 weary of her constant watch over her little ones, and might find 
 her highest joy in that which would be an intolerable care to 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 75 
 
 others. If it was folly, it had the divine sanction, and might in 
 His eyes become a crowning grace. 
 
 Phillipia, I must confess, with all her gentleness sometimes 
 surprises me by a certain positiveness of opinion, that would be 
 really trying, but for the wifely meekness and submission she 
 always shows. But I am sure this question is going to make 
 trouble, and I feel that we cannot be too guarded. Let me 
 entreat you to be careful of your course. I hope you will be sure 
 to graduate and get a charge as a minister, so as to be exempt 
 from any military duty should trouble arise. You know the wise 
 man foreseeth the evil and hideth himself. I feel comfortable 
 under this fact, that I shall not be compelled to take part, either 
 as a. politician, or, should conflict come, as a soldier. 
 
 I believe I have not mentioned that on the Fourth, my wife 
 presented me with another son, by way of celebration. It seems 
 rather soon after the first, but I suppose it is all right. She 
 seems as proud of it as of the other, and it is to be christened 
 after its father. I hope this will satisfy her ambition for some 
 time to come. But women are said to be happiest so, and we,, 
 poor husbands must be content and seem grateful for our blessings. 
 
 I am thankful that Mother Menloe proposes an addition to 
 the house in the shape of a nursery. At our present rate, it will 
 be sadly needed. 
 
 I hear nothing of your finding a better half. You will be 
 wise to choose soon, or you will be a regular bachelor. My kindly 
 salutation to the lady when you do find her. 
 
 As ever your old chum, 
 
 HOKACE WALWOKTH. 
 
 "Is it possible," thought Langdon, "that this is a true expose 
 of the heart of a man? I will not answer him with soft words,. 
 for if the possibility of truth lies in him, it should be brought 
 forth; if not I shall have done some part of my duty as an hon 
 est individual. And yet, is not this up to the level of a multitude 
 of the blind leaders of the blind? Alas! for the Church whose 
 flock is led by such a shepherd!" 
 
 Arrived at his chamber he immediately set himself to answer. 
 
 EOCK RIVER YALLEY, July, 1860. 
 My Well Remembered Chum : 
 
 Yours is at hand and I hasten to make reply. You know 
 
76 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 my old habit of opening my Bible when in any perplexity as to 
 the course to be pursued, and that I often felt directed by some 
 wise aphorism, some grand poetic thought, or some true word of 
 inspiration. So now I opened my Bible to learn what the mes 
 sage might be, and these words met my eyes: "Because ye have 
 said, we have made a covenant with death, and with hell we are 
 at agreement; when the overflowing scourge shall pass through, 
 it shall not come unto us; for we have made lies our refuge, and 
 under falsehood have we hid ourselves; therefore, thus saith the 
 Lord God, behold I lay in Zion for a foundation, a stone, a tried 
 stone, a precious corner stone; a sure foundation; he that be- 
 lieveth shall not make haste. Judgment also will I lay to the 
 line, and righteousness to the plummet; and the hail shall sweep 
 .away the refuge of lies, and the waters shall overflow the hiding 
 place. And your covenant with death shall be disannulled and 
 your agreement with hell shall not stand ; when the overflowing 
 scourge shall pass through, then ye shall be trodden down by it." 
 This would be my answer to all who would advocate compromise 
 with wrong. Our National sin is the more monstrous from the 
 fact that we have, before high heaven sworn to render to our 
 neighbor the same justice we claim for ourselves. And worst of 
 all, men who claim to preach the gospel, appear as apologists of 
 our National crime. 
 
 Have you ever thought of the nature of the unpardonable 
 sin? Does it not consist in calling evil good and good evil? Are 
 not the very foundations of truth subverted, when apologies are 
 made for honesty, and praise is bestowed upon iniquity? While 
 we said slavery is a great wrong, and we must get rid of it as 
 soon as we can, it was as though God waited on our weak endeav 
 ors. But now that the press and the pulpit, and the judges of 
 the land attempt its justification, it must soon come to open 
 wager of battle, unless we stand like dumb dogs, and fail to even 
 utter an inarticulate abhorrence of the sin. 
 
 Did not your wife s rebuke sting you to the quick? How 
 her true mother nature laid bare the rottenness of all such apolo 
 gies as you would make. And what we could not endure our 
 selves, how dare we leave others to endure? In some way we 
 shall feel the retribution, "For they enslave their children s 
 children, who make compromise with sin." 
 
 I have written you from a heart overflowing with a sense of 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 
 
 coming tribulation, not because the light has come to some, bat 
 because of our long continuance in transgression. 
 
 This trying to patch up an agreement between light and 
 darkness has well nigh destroyed the moral vision of the Nation. 
 Let us try to redeem ourselves before it is too late. 
 
 Bless the babies and the babies mother, and may their father 
 learn through them, how to love his neighbor as himself. 
 
 I am not going to pursue my Theological studies at present,, 
 for there is sterner work to do and as to marriage, I wait till 
 my intellect, as well as my heart, can be fully mated. So you 
 see, the future wife should be now either in college, or an A" B. 
 Whichever she may prove I am sure I shall honor her when 
 she accepts me as an equal partner. 
 
 I hope I shall have a more gracious spirit when I write 
 again. Till then allow me to subscribe myself, 
 Hastily, your old chum, 
 
 EDWARD LANGDON. 
 
 The letter which came from Nettie was as satisfactory, as the 
 other had been trying. 
 
 OBERLIN, Jttly ZZd, 1860. 
 My Dear Ned: 
 
 Yours came duly, nor did its contents much surprise me. 
 For, were I a man, with your capacity to work for God and 
 humanity, no personal consideration should restrain me. All the 
 same, I thank you for this perfect confidence which led you to 
 lay the matter before me, before you had fully committed your 
 self to this great issue. 
 
 It does indeed concern me, what your future may be, but 
 whether for weal or woe, whatever conscience enjoins, it is as 
 much my duty to sanction, as yours to obey; otherwise I am not 
 worthy to be that close and dear friend I think myself. And in 
 this, as I take it, lies the substantial equality of man and woman. 
 Her vote is taken, and he fills the oftice to which he is elected. 
 Then in other departments she become the executive, and the 
 man a constituent. I have thought of this a good deal of late, 
 for this question of the extension of slavery trenches upon broad 
 ground. Is it not Channing who says something to this effect, 
 that the least encroachment upon the rights of the humblest 
 human soul is a wrong to all? "Lay not your hand on God s 
 rational offspring. The whole spiritual world cries out forbear!" 
 Now here in this goodly town, with all its liberality, one cannot 
 
78 PIIILLIPIA, 
 
 but mark two things: One is the patronizing spirit shown to 
 Negroes, as though they should say, "We tolerate you because 
 we are so good," and the other is a similar condescension to 
 women. Girls are advised to take the "Ladies course." It is not 
 so taxing to their feeble natures. 
 
 Now, to me, it has seemed that Providence ordered the 
 opening of these college doors, just at this time, that it might be 
 shown to the world that Negroes and women have capacities 
 capable of expansion and culture to just the same degree as white 
 men. 
 
 True, we have not hitherto had the same motives for broad 
 culture, and consequently have not laid hold with the same confi 
 dent power. The places awaiting us are narrower and the remun 
 eration is pitifully smaller. Neither the Negro nor the white 
 woman can hope for any chiefest place, and so it is not strange 
 that we should fall behind in the race. 
 
 Another trouble with us girls is this. We come of age too 
 soon, and so must graduate at an earlier period, and commence 
 life before the faculties are matured. This also leads to inordi 
 nate hurry in our studies, and sometimes to breaking down in 
 health. We are also made to feel that our fingers should be con 
 stantly busied with some little work, our eyes taxed with em 
 broidery or fine knitting, or something of this nature, during the 
 hours when young men are vigorously exercising in the open air. 
 
 One day I found myselt in a fearful state of incapacity. I 
 could not remember my lessons. The words escaped me as soon 
 as read. A friend invited me home with her for an evening, and 
 some games were proposed, like pitching quoits, and we all went 
 out. One of the young boys challenged me to a game and we 
 played for an hour or two as I used to play with Charley, and 
 when I went back to my books my head was clear as a bell. 
 
 To illustrate my other point. I went one evening to a prayer 
 meeting expressly for the slave. There were but few present, 
 and one of the colored students, a bright earnest fellow, got up 
 and said some very stirring and almost bitter things. He com 
 plained that even here, there was apathy to the cause, that while 
 on any other occasion the room was well filled, yet when it was 
 for the poor despised Negro, only a few of the brethren and 
 sisters came, and they seemed cold and only half in earnest. At 
 this point Brother H. arose and said, "Forbear brother. Here 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 79 
 
 you have great kindness and Christian charity shown you and 
 your people." 
 
 Quick as thought, the colored brother was on his knees, and 
 such an outpouring of pent up anguish I never heard. He told 
 the Lord all he wanted the apathetic brethren to know, and if the 
 Lord was not surprised at his arraignment, I am sure some of 
 the brethren were. But alter all, this belongs to the limitations 
 of poor human nature, and shows us how perfect is the rule, 
 "Judge not that ye be not judged." Also, "All things whatso 
 ever ye would that men should do to you, do you even so to 
 them." If we could follow these rules, we should attain to what 
 our good brethren here are some of them striving for, " Christian 
 perfection." 
 
 jSTow my dear, my very dear friend, I feel such entire con 
 fidence in your wisdom and integrity, that whatever you feel 
 called upon to do in this great emergency, I shall feel called upon 
 to sanction, though it may be like the "cutting off of the right 
 hand, or the plucking out of the right eye." 
 
 I was pleased to note the honor conferred upon you making 
 you delegate to the Convention in Chicago. It makes me happy 
 to feel that in whatever place you may find yourself, you will 
 always be equal to the occasion. Realizing this I shall try to be 
 a fitting mate for you, whether in the humblest walks of duty, 
 or in the higher levels of the life that may be yours and mine. 
 As ever, your most faithful friend, 
 
 ANNETTE WILSON. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 It was a bright afternoon towards the last of July when the 
 sweltering heat on the broad prairies made one yearn for the cool 
 mountain breezes, and the gurgling crystal brooks of Vermont, 
 that Mrs. Turner alighted from her husband s rough farm wagon, 
 at her pastor s door, intending to spend the long summer after 
 noon with Mrs. Walworth and her babies. She had not been 
 able to walk much of late, and as they had no comfortable carriage, 
 she had dreaded the jolting of the farm wagon, and so had not 
 seen the new baby, now nearly three weeks old. 
 
80 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 "Dear heart!" she said, as she came up to Mrs. Wai worth, 
 who was seated in a rocker with her youngest baby on her lap, 
 and the other clinging to her knee, "how sorry I was not to be 
 able to be with you. But my heart trouble is gittin worse all 
 the time, and so I knew I shouldn t du you any good. But you 
 look as peart as can be. No, don t rise, I can wait on myself 
 sister, and you pear to have your lap full. 
 
 "And isn t it a cunning little chap any way? It seems kind 
 o hard now, but in a year or two them little shavers ll be like 
 twins, and one will take care of tother, and the two ll be less 
 care than one." 
 
 "That is really comforting, Sister Turner," said Mrs. Wai- 
 worth, looking with a tender smile into the little red face that 
 peered up with blinking eyes, as though it knew the tones of that 
 mother s voice. 
 
 Mrs. Turner drew up her chair and took the little one from 
 its mother. Little Menloe, a child of wonderful beauty, laid his 
 curly head on the baby s dress, and clung to the long white robe 
 as though afraid of losing it. The thin brown hand of the woman 
 was at once laid tenderly amid the golden curls, as she looked up 
 with a tear dimming her eyes. "This makes me think of old times. 
 My two first was jist about as near together and I ust ter take 
 em inter the field when Turner an me went ter plowin , and I 
 had a kind of a booth tu shelter em. I d lay down a big rug 
 and put em down, and I d keep up with Turner at the plow tail, 
 and when we d stop for the teams tu blow, I d run and nuss my 
 baby, and pet tother one, and then I d back ter the plow till time 
 ter put out to bait. Then I d take the babies and Turner he d 
 lead his team, and mine would foller, and while he fed the teams, 
 I d git the fire kindled, and when he d come in, I d tell him ter 
 rock the cradle while I got the dinner. Well, he was real kind 
 meanin then, Turner was, but sure as I m a livin woman, first 
 I d see, he d be fast asleep, noddin over the cradle. And it ud 
 be jist the same at night, when I was a washin up the supper 
 things and gittin ready fer breakfast." 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 81 
 
 "That must have been a hard life. Sister Turner," said Mrs. 
 Wai worth. 
 
 " Wall now, Sister Walworth, it ain t hard work in the open 
 air that kills folks, half so much as bilin over a hot stove does. 
 I ve told Turner, many s the time, that I d ruther du the work in 
 the field as mendu it now, than ter cook for sich a drang o hands 
 as he gits about him. Land o liberty! it ain t sich a hard thing 
 ter ride on your sulky plow, with an umberill sort of a thing over 
 your head and plow out corn. But my men talk as though 
 a woman s work want worth the shucks off the corn. Sometimes 
 we git talkin about wimmins votin , and Turner lets on as though 
 he b lieved it would be a dretful hard thing fer wirnmin ter du. 
 But I shet him up when he gits so terrible tender. I ask him if 
 a woman that could plow all day with her two babies, and keep 
 awake ter git dinner when her man drapt asleep over the cradle, 
 wa n t most stout enough to lift a vote inter the ballot box. But 
 Sister Walworth, it aint the heft ot work that breaks wimmin 
 down, nor yit the havin of children. Its the feelin that you 
 aint of anny account, and that no matter how hard you work you 
 haint nothin that you can call your n, and your hands always 
 tied." 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Turner, you surely need not trouble yourself 
 about that, you have all you need, a good home, and plenty of 
 everything." 
 
 "And I s pose you think that is all a body wants, Sister Wal 
 worth? Now you tell my Mary that she could make a fust class 
 player; and I know she sings beautiful; but I can t git her a 
 planner to save my life, while he gits all sorts of machines for the 
 farm. I tell Turner sometimes that when his step darters come, 
 he ll git a fine new kerridge and a planner, and land knows how 
 nice the house ll be fitted up fer them, and Mary may work her 
 fingers ter the bone and no thanks, nuther. It ll be s prisin how 
 fond of music he ll be when I git out n his way." 
 
 "Isn t that a little ungenerous, Sister Turner? You see you 
 
82 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 began by taking the heavy burdens, and he cannot realize that 
 you need anything now, any more than you did at the outset. 
 You ought not to blame him for not being as willing to have a 
 nice home as though you had made it necessary for him from the 
 first." 
 
 "That s what my youngest sister has told me, time and agin. 
 Bat then, when I married him, we hadn t anything ter make a 
 nice home out n, and everybody said Dan Turner d be a shiftless 
 feller, and I d took my pigs ter a poor markit. And you see I 
 wanted ter incourage him, and so I worked with him, for he was 
 always master fond of company. Ef I hadn t done jist as I did, 
 hs d a gone ter town a foot every day, instead of workin and 
 gittin a start, and it s my solemn belief, he d a been only a 
 drunken shack afore he was twenty-five years old. But you see 
 I kept him company till our oldest gal and boy was big enough 
 ter go with him ter work, and so we ve got on. I hope I aint 
 quite a fool, and some things is borne in unto my mind pritty 
 strong. Ef it wan t fer the licker, I could let all the rest go and 
 be comfortable. But when I know that, man and boy, our folks 
 spends fer drinks and terbaccer more a week than I git in a year 
 ter use as I m a mind ter, it does make me feel kind o disgruntled, 
 as the boys say. I aint got grace enough to git over it. 
 
 " What makes it all the harder is that I feel so sorry for my 
 Betsey, and want ter help her in her troubles. Her man gits 
 worse and worse, and he s gettin inter debt head over ears, and I 
 know that often she can t git the clothes fit ter send her children 
 to Sunday School, and Byrne don t want em to go, no way. 
 Poor gal, she sees lots of trouble, and if I aint mistaken, he beats 
 his boys awful hard, and if Betsey interferes, he swears and cusses 
 at her till all is blue. He tells her the boys belongs to him and 
 if she don t keep her mouth shet, he ll bind em out, for he has 
 the right ter. 
 
 " ISTow this comes when he is drunk, for you see his father was 
 Irish, and though I will say they are awful kind when they are 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 83 
 
 sober, yit a little drink makes them more like crazy than anything 
 else. Ef he should hurt one of them boys in his drunk fits, I 
 b lieve it would kill me outright." 
 
 The tender heart of the listener was touched very deeply at 
 this recital. "Can you get nothing done, Sister Turner? Why 
 does not brother Turner interfere?" 
 
 "Sister Walworth, don t the Bible say something about Satan 
 castin out Satan, and et he did it, how would his own kingdom 
 stand? When I set a ponderin these things, it comes ter me that 
 mebbe the reason why men is so feared ter pertect wimmin is 
 because ef they du, it will be allowin that wimmin belong to God 
 lust, and men arterwards, instead ot reversely. I can t see no 
 other reason for their bein so afeared tu interfere, as they say, 
 twixt man and wife. Now I ve begged Turner agin and agin tu 
 tell Betsey tu come home and bring the children till Byrne comes 
 tu his senses; but Turner says that ef he was ter du it, Byrne 
 could come and take the children, all but the nussin baby, and 
 he could prosecute him for interferin atwixt husband and wife. 
 Aint that a shame in a Christian land o liberty?" 
 
 " It is hard, Sister Turner. I cannot see how this matter is 
 to be mended. May be your daughter is not as pleasant as she 
 ought to be, and doesn t make home agreeable." 
 
 " Now Sister Walworth, that s always the way. The woman 
 is in fault ef the man goes wrong. Yit its the woman that has 
 the babies and is kept awake o nights, and has all the stingin 
 and scrapin and conomisin tu du, and she stays tu home and 
 works while the man rides round, and carries the money puss, 
 and gits what he thinks best, and she has tu be thankful fer that. 
 A body d think et enybody should be sensed fer being cross it 
 should be the woman. 
 
 " But I will say it for Betsey, that she was as pleasant and 
 tidy a body as you could find, till Byrne got tu drinkin and now 
 she is plum broken hearted. She said tu me the last time I seen 
 her, Pears tu me I should be glad tu die ef it want fer the chil 
 dren. But I must try tu stagger on fer their sakes. 
 
84 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 " Now, Sister Walworth, sich as you, cant understand some 
 things, for your path is covered all over with flowers. But some 
 folks has to walk on thorns." 
 
 Just as she had finished her recital, the team came back, and 
 kissing Mrs. Walworth and the baby, and little Menloe, she pre 
 pared to go. " Ef I never see you again Sister Walworth do you 
 remember what I say now. You think you have all the rights- 
 you want, but no woman has all the rights she wants while there 
 is a licker store licensed in the State or in the Nation. Good 
 by! God keep you and your babies." 
 
 Long after Mrs. Turner had gone, the young mother sat and 
 pondered her words. She had sometimes suggested, very meekly, 
 to her husband, that even the best laws did not seem to be quite 
 as favorable to women as to men, and she had especially deplored 
 the fact that intemperance seemed so much on the increase. 
 What could poor weak women do, to stay the tide of wrong. 
 
 Early the following morning, a messenger came from Elder 
 Turner s, announcing that his wife had died suddenly in the night. 
 The messenger was questioned as to particulars and it came out 
 that about ten o clock a hired man had come in from Mr. Byrne s 
 after the doctor to set Bobby s arm. The man said Byrne hurled 
 a milking stool at a pig or something, and it hit Bobby s arm and 
 broke it. 
 
 The sudden news frightened Mrs. Turner and she sunk back 
 calling out, "O Lord it has come!" and directly she was dead. 
 The doctor had stopped on his way out to Byrne s, and after 
 examining her for a few minutes, said nothing could be done. It 
 was heart disease, and no mortal power could have saved her. 
 
 As to the accident, very little was told. It was known to his 
 workmen that Byrne had a large demijohn of whiskey in his barn 
 and that he was drunk and very cross; that the boy had been 
 trying to milk a kicking cow, and had had the pail kicked over. 
 Byrne had cursed him for it, and the stool had been thrown at 
 something, but nobody seemed to know exactly what. All knew 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 85 
 
 that the father was frightened when he picked up the fainting boy 
 and carried him in, sobered by the fright. This was all and no 
 one felt that he had any call to interfere. 
 
 But the grandmother knew, and the shock cut short the 
 agony of her lite. 
 
 A stately funeral, honored her in her death. The Rev. 
 Horace Walworth officiated, assisted by the pastors of the other 
 Churches, and the funeral discourse was afterwards printed, en 
 circled by a wide black border. The virtues of the deceased were 
 most eloquently portrayed, and her ecstatic welcome of death, in 
 that last cry, "O Lord, it has come!" was said to be little short 
 of miraculous. 
 
 At the grave, the pastor read, "Blessed are the dead that die 
 in the Lord, yea saith the Spirit, for they rest from their labors, 
 and their works do follow them!" and the flower wreathed casket 
 was lowered to its linal resting place. 
 
 Then the choir sang the hymn, "Sister, Thou Wast Mild and 
 Lovely," and then the great concourse retired. Many of those 
 present remarked what a fine looking man Mr. Turner was in 
 his elegant new suit of black, and what a wide weed he wore on 
 his hat. 
 
 Nothing could have better satisfied public taste than this 
 well ordered funeral. Mrs. Byrne was not able to attend. She 
 staid at home and watched by her suffering boy, who often 
 declared he wished his father had killed him, so that he could go 
 with his grandmother. It was sad that so young a child should 
 turn to death as a consoler. He was only ten years old, yet weary 
 of life. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The stir of a campaign so exciting, thrilled through the land, 
 orators came from East and West, and men, women and babies 
 turned out to listen to the wisdom of statesmen, or the sophistries 
 
86 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 of demagogues. Douglas, it will be remembered, was an inde 
 pendent candidate, whom many of his Northern supporters sup 
 posed must be the winning man. Torchlight processions and 
 Union Leagues were the order of the evening, and grand rallies 
 of countless thousands ot Republicans astonished even themselves 
 by their great numbers, thronging through the day. 
 
 Douglas was notoriously conspicuous. He had his special 
 train, and on the rear platform a cannon that announced his arrival 
 by its loud boom. Many of the young men, seeing the enthu 
 siasm which this called out began to feel confident of his success, 
 and to bet on his election. At the station where our friend 
 Turner resided his car stopped, and a perfect sea ot red throated 
 railroad men, swayed as by the moving of the winds, shouted, 
 "Hurra lor Da-glass! Hurra for Du-glass!" with a look half 
 quizzical and half shame-faced, he was led through the shouting 
 throng by a committee headed by Mr. Turner, till he came to the 
 platform in the adjacent grove, draped with flags, and crowded 
 with ladies and gentlemen. Here he was again surrounded by 
 his red throated constituents, men whose sturdy arms had helped 
 to build the long chain ot railroads that now wedded the Father 
 of Waters to his Eastern bride, and promised soon to weld the 
 continent with iron bands. 
 
 But these men were not wise or learned, and it was with 
 bitterness and self scorn that he spoke to them of the sacredness 
 of country, and the importance of standing firm for a government 
 in which there should be no North, no South, no East, no West,. 
 but a Nation large enough, and strong enough to meet a world 
 in arms. And these men, poor and often worse than poor, sadly 
 besotted were voters, and still had manhood enough in them to 
 be filled and thrilled by the grandeur of the sentiment, arid to 
 be proud of the man who was their acknowledged leader. It is 
 wise never to undervalue the voice of the many. 
 
 When he was again on his way, he called some of the most 
 intelligent of his enthusiastic young friends, and said to them,. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 87 
 
 "Boys, I heard some ot you betting on me. Don t do it again." 
 "But Mr. Douglas, you will surely be elected," they said. "Not 
 a bit of it. I shall not carry more than one State; at most two." 
 "Why, then do you run, just to be defeated?" "I am running 
 to break up that confounded recreant Democracy. Bet on old 
 Abe as high as you please, he is the winning mau; but don t bet 
 on me. Tii3 old p irfcy letters arj untrii3 to every principle of 
 our government, and I have sworn to overthrow thorn." 
 
 At last he had learned the unsafety of a rotten foundation, 
 and his truer self was revitalized. 
 
 It was the grandest contest the world had ever seen, the 
 uprising for the unity of a government based on the theory af 
 equal rights. And yet, they had not even now forgotten their 
 strange gods. The multitude that listened to the impassioned 
 speeches of political leaders, thought more of National unity 
 than of National justice. There were a few like Langdon, who 
 sought to teach the true meaning of a Republican, government-, 
 but they were often checked and schooled by more politic me i. 
 
 At last the decision came, and with it the humiliating history 
 of the last days of a demoralized administration. Jefferso i, 
 whose broad doctrines of inalienable right they had professed, 
 had been practically denied by his followers. The whole Nation 
 had sinned, but they most of all, and now their kingdom w,is 
 about to be taken from them. "Not this man, but Barabbas," 
 had been uttered long before. 
 
 What a lesson for all succeeding generations, that in right 
 eousness alone is safety. "Take counsel, execute judgmeiT; 
 make thy shadow as the night in the midst of noonday; hide the 
 outcast, bewray not him that wandereth. And in mercy shall th 3 
 throne be established." 
 
 It took bitter years of war to teach this lesson, pray God i t 
 be not forgotten. And Douglas? he saw and acknowledged the 
 truth and died in sight of the holy land, and our soldiers burii d 
 him in an honored grave. That he would have been one of the 
 
88 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 staunchest supporters of Lincoln had his life been prolonged, 
 cannot be doubted. Standing in the rotunda of the State House 
 after the call to arms, he made a most impassioned and patriotic 
 speech calling upon all men who loved their country to sustain 
 the President in his defence of our nationality. Lifting his eyes 
 to the dome, he said, "Vain for me were the dreams of ambition 
 with a divided empire." 
 
 One who read the eloquent speech as it came from the daily 
 press remarked, "Douglas is not long for this world. His eyes 
 have seen such grand truths that he will be slain as by the angel 
 of the Lord." 
 
 Better thus, than to have lived in violation of his manliest 
 convictions. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 During the winter following the election, our old friend, 
 Brother Turner, had grown singularly conscious of many things 
 of which he had been formerly oblivious. He remembered that 
 his late estimable wife had been very anxious that Mary should 
 have a musical education, and in the following order he set about 
 complying with her desires. Miss Wilder, a music teacher had 
 recently arrived from the East. She was a thoroughly well edu 
 cated woman, some twenty-eight or thirty years of age, rather 
 petite in figure, with bright dark eyes and hair, and a clear fresh 
 complexion. Her features were delicately moulded, and only the 
 bright twinkle of her eyes, and some little dimples that occasion 
 ally played around her mouth, betrayed a capacity for coquetry 
 that had been the bane of her riper years. To widowers she had 
 proved in more than one instance "a delusion and a snare." 
 
 The very first Sunday that she played the organ, the deacon 
 was hopelessly enthralled. On the Monday following he called 
 on the barber to have his hair trimmed, and his wiskers properly 
 shaped, and if need were, retouched, so as to be more like his 
 hair. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 89 
 
 "Now," said he to the barber. "I want you to consider the 
 shape of my face, and see what kind of whiskers would be best 
 lookin for a man of my figger." 
 
 "Yes, sah, I think your face remarkably like Lord Eland s, 
 picter on the wall. Must be English I conclude sah? His Lord 
 ship was through here last summer and I barbered him." 
 
 "Yes, my father and mother came over when I was a boy." 
 
 "Yes, sah, thought I couldn t be mistaken, sah. Now side 
 whiskers make a man look young and mighty spectable, and I 
 have the fust-class pattern, sah." 
 
 "Make all right Jim;" and Jim shaves and looks sidewise 
 and frontwise to get the exact form. 
 
 "Excellent form sah, couldn t be nearer like Lord Eland s. 
 Ef you had some new patent teeth sah, sense me for namin it, 
 you d be a most a puffec likeness of his Lordship. He laid a 
 half dollar in my hand when he left me, and said if he ever found 
 hisself in these parts he d be sure to call on me for professional 
 services." 
 
 Elder Turner, not to be outdone by his Lordship, laid a half 
 dollar in the barber s hand and told him he should soon call on 
 him again. 
 
 From the barber s he went to the dentist. That functionary 
 assured him that it would make a great improvement in his looks 
 if he would have his old yellow teeth, which stood a good deal 
 twisted and worn, replaced by some new and brilliantly white 
 ones he had just imported; and furthermore, he could have them 
 in by the last of the week just for temporary use. In fact, he 
 had sometimes taken the mould and put them in the same day. 
 It kept the air from the lacerated gums, and it was his opinion 
 they healed better than when left exposed. 
 
 Now the Elder who had three marriageable sons remembered 
 that delays were dangerous, and so he at once submitted himself 
 to the dentist s tender mercies. 
 
 It was well towards night when the good man returned home 
 
90 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 in his rejuvenated state, to be met by many as a stranger, and 
 laughed at and unmercifully quizzed by the boys. But he 
 stoutly maintained his new dignity, and lived for the next two 
 weeks on mush arid milk. 
 
 But in the meantime, he had got Mr. Wai worth to introduce 
 him to the new music teacher, who had advertised for pupils, and 
 Mary had been notified that she was to commence the next week. 
 As he found Miss Wilder a very pleasant and chatty body, lie 
 began to devise methods for a growing acquaintance. It was 
 quite a walk between his house and the music room of Miss 
 Wilder and he came to the conclusion that he really ought to 
 have a carriage. An agent from St. Louis fortunately made his 
 appearance just at this conjuncture, and a new double seated 
 phaeton was ordered. It did not occur to him how often his poor 
 wife had wished she could have even a light single wagon. She 
 was dead and buried, arcl out of sight; but Mary remembered 
 with secret shame, how poorly her comfort had been provided for, 
 and how much she had done lor the success of her father in 
 business. 
 
 When the new carriage came, and also a set of silver-mounted 
 harness, and the greys had been curried as never before, he took 
 Mary to her music lesson and called to pay the quarter s tuition 
 in advance. It did not seem much like the pinching her mother 
 had done, to pay Mrs. Wai worth half her just dues, but the girl 
 accepted all with a good grace. 
 
 From Mrs. Wai worth she had learned more than music. She 
 had seen the interior of a well ordered home, and had caught the 
 knack of dressing with some small degree of taste, so that Miss 
 Wilder was unexpectedly impressed by her bearing, and imagined 
 the family not altogether wanting in refinement. She inquired 
 if Miss Turner had a piano, and when she found that article defi 
 cient, informed him with a most witching smile, that she could 
 order one at reduced rates; and the Eider said he would take it 
 under advisement, a business term he fancied quite imposing. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 91 
 
 On his return for Mary, he took her to see Mrs. "Walworth 
 and inquired if she and her babies would not like to ride over to 
 his home and spend the afternoon. He had some things on his 
 mind about which he wished to ask her advice. 
 
 So Mrs. Walworth went with them, and had a cheerful after 
 noon, her husband coming out for tea. It was a home of rude 
 abundance, full of coarse, substantial comforts. The parlor was 
 furnished with a high feather bed, covered with gorgeous patch 
 work, and a few hard Windsor chairs. There was also a bed in 
 the dining room, and another in a curtained recess off the kitchen^ 
 besides home made lounges. The house had a second story, as 
 yet unfinished. Mr. Turner took his guest from room to room to 
 consider with her some plans for improvement. 
 
 "You see, Sister Walworth, my Mary is gettin to be quite a 
 young lady, and I think I orter kind o fix things up a little on 
 her account." 
 
 "Why, yes, Brother Turner, and on account of your sons as 
 well. It may make a great difference in their own lives, if they 
 leave you with correct ideas of a well ordered Christian home. r 
 
 "Just so. Sister Walworth, and I don t know of anybody 
 better calculated to advise with than you," he remarked quite 
 patronizingly. "My late wife was too feeble after we moved 
 here, to do much in the way of fixin up, and Mary is too young 
 to have ripe jedgernent, so I thought you would be a good adviser. 
 A man without a good woman to counsel with, feels kind o help 
 less sometimes." 
 
 "I suppose that is true, Brother Turner. I find my husband* 
 though so wise in most things, a mere infant in household matters, 
 so I have to take all the responsibility on my own shoulders, n 
 Mrs. Walworth replied. 
 
 "Now you must tell me in what direction I can aid you, and 
 I shall be most happy to do all in my power." 
 
 " Well then, fust and foremost, what do you think about 
 Mary s makin good use of a pianner, sposin she had one here to 
 home?" 
 
92 A WOMAN S QUESTION. 
 
 "The very thing of all others, Brother Turner. Your Mary 
 is almost a musical genius. It is seldom that a girl who has had 
 no training in childhood, learns so rapidly, and it would be a 
 great advantage to have a piano at hand, so that she could have 
 fall opportunity to practice. Her touch is remarkable." 
 
 "Well, ef you think so favorable on it," said the Elder half 
 closing his eyes, and softly drumming on a stand near which he 
 was seated, "we ll say that is concluded. Then ef we have a 
 pianner, we must have a place for it. How would you arrange 
 for that?" 
 
 "Why this is a nice room, with a change of furniture. 
 Where the bed stands would not be a bad location. Then you 
 would want a carpet, some suitable chairs, a large mirror, and a 
 center table. Of course you will paint your house outside and 
 have some green blinds, and some pretty lace curtains inside will 
 give the room quite a genteel appearance. I notice that the 
 walls are good, still a rrfce paper seems to add a good deal to the 
 general effect of a room." 
 
 "Don t you think a sofy a nice thing in the parlor?" queried 
 the good man, with his half shut eyes, as though he was dream 
 ing of lounging there, and watching the play of white fingers, 
 and listening to soft strains of music. 
 
 "Of course, if it is in good taste, or better still, a large divan 
 with handsome pillows," returned she. "My husband says he 
 could not study his sermons hall so well if it was not for the one 
 in his study; and, if covered with velvet or rich brocade, it is 
 really very handsome. In case you have a divan, you should 
 have curtains to match under the lace drapery." 
 
 "That all seems very sensible," said the Elder, "and I don t 
 see but what it can be done. The chambers are large and if they 
 are done off, it wouldn t be a bad sort of a house." 
 
 "No, indeed, it will be very comfortable, and if you were to 
 throw a veranda over the south side, and train vines over it, it 
 would make it really elegant. I only wish Sister Turner could 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 93 
 
 have lived to see things so beautifully arranged," said Mrs. Wai- 
 worth very earnestly. 
 
 "The ways of Providence are inscrutable," piously responded 
 Mr. Turner, and at this he closely shut his eyes. "I want to 
 consult Brother Walworth about a suitable monument for her 
 grave. She is worthy of a good one." 
 
 "That is so, and she would be happy could she know how 
 highly you appreciate her worth. The praise of our husbands is- 
 like the sunshine to us women." 
 
 "Ahem! very true sister. Shall we look into the dining 
 room now?" 
 
 "This might be a very cheerful room indeed," said his kind 
 adviser. " I like a breakfast room that looks east, it is so bright 
 in the morning. Now you will, of course, have this bed removed, 
 and that will make room for a large sideboard. Then with a 
 plain carpet, and some rugs, and a set of dining chairs it will be 
 quite nice. Some pretty chintz would make becoming drapery 
 for the windows." 
 
 "Much obleeged for your idees, Sister Walworth, I shall set 
 about it to rights," returned Mr. Turner. 
 
 Mary, in the meantime, had been in the kitchen getting 
 ready for tea, for she had no assistant in her domestic cares, and 
 it seemed wonderful that she could find time for music, or any 
 other recreation. Mrs. Walworth looked in and saw Menloe 
 seated in a high chair at the table, where she was moulding 
 biscuit, a big towel pinned round his neck, and his hands and 
 face white with flour, while the girl was singing and laughing at 
 his baby pranks. 
 
 "What a charming girl Mary is," she said to Elder Turner 
 as she went back to the parlor. " She ought to have a good 
 opportunity to attend school, and I hope she will have it some of 
 these days." 
 
 "Possibly," returned the deacon, "but at present she could 
 not be well spared. 
 
94: PHILLIPIA, 
 
 By this time the Rev. Mr. Wai worth had arrived and the 
 conversation turned on Sister Tamer s monument for which he 
 was to design a pattern and write out an inscription. 
 
 Next, Brother Wai worth s health, which he felt was not 
 quite sound, was discussed and the Elder advised him by all 
 means to try liostetter s Bitters. He said he felt as though he 
 could not live without them himself, they were so strengthening 
 and purifying to the blood, and as spring was just upon them it 
 was necessary to be careful. 
 
 The latter part of winter had been clear and drv, and the 
 roads were in splendid condition just now, and everything seemed 
 arranged to the deacon s mind. 
 
 When the bjys came home they brought startling news. 
 The papers said it was doubtful if Mr. Lincoln could get sately 
 to Washington. The people in Baltimore said he could not. 
 
 "It might save a deal of trouble ef he could be stopped on 
 the way," said the good Elder in an aside to Walworth. " Fer 
 my part I m a Douglas man, and it pears tu me Lincoln wa n t 
 the man tu hold the ribbins safe. Et it was the Little Giant 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ROCK RIVER VALLEY, April 
 Darling Nettie: 
 
 The inevitable has come. The North and the South are 
 pitched like the two camps, one on Mt. Ghenizim, the other on 
 Mt. Ebal. One stands before God, angels and men as the cham 
 pion of Freedom based on the law of equal love, and providing 
 equal guarantees for the life, liberty and happiness of all, and the 
 other championing the old battle cry of Despotism and Savagery, 
 "Might makes right." And anew the old cry resounds, " Who 
 is on the Lord s side?" You know how clear my convictions are 
 that this array of antagonistic forces has in it a meaning hidden 
 from the many. But it seems to me that its issues will not only 
 affect our nationality, but all humanity will either be lifted up 
 
PHILLIPIA, 95 
 
 or cast down by the results of this conflict. The President has 
 c died for an army of men for ninety days. Well, if in that time 
 the people can see the issue, and demand the liberation of the 
 slaves as a measure of peace, the war may be brought to a speedy 
 c mclusion. Could the slave-holding States see what is wise and 
 good, they would propose a scheme of gradual emancipation, 
 something like that carried out in New York and the West India 
 Islands, giving the slaves some opportunity for education and 
 some preparation for responsible conduct all could be easily 
 adjusted. Of course, the South makes the issue on State Rights, 
 and assails the Government in its own fortresses, and the Presi 
 dent meets them on this issue, yet all the world knows the real 
 question is slavery, and they who are now aggressors, have been 
 striving to spread it over free territory and to make it National 
 and unlimited, instead of sectional and limited. 
 
 For myself, I feel no assurance that the great majority of the 
 people realize the true issue, and though I was not a little disap 
 pointed in Mr. Lincoln s inaugural, after reading it for a dozen 
 times, I think I see in it a profound comprehension of the situa 
 tion. Our Constitution has become an idol, and any seeming 
 disregard of it, stirs up the most bitter opposition. This has 
 been the inconsistent point in Garrison s method, as I see it, yet 
 for him it may have been wise. It has placed him, as it were, 
 without the camp. He has chosen to treat it from that purely 
 human and ethical standpoint, that cuts the ground from under 
 the wrong, whether a man stands within or without the Govern 
 ment. I feel that his teachings in the direction of pure ethics, 
 will last through all time. But the issue now has become a 
 National one, and it may take a long period before we reach the 
 goal. The Constitution must vindicate itself. Now Mr. Lincoln 
 has assured those who are raising this rebellion, that he intends 
 to see that the constitutional rights of all the States shall be fully 
 maintained, and this leaves them without pretext for war or 
 secession. He leaves them to make war against the Union and 
 the Constitution, and he will have to be guided by the trend of 
 events as to final measures. This strikes me as the finest stroke 
 of statesmanship, though at first sight it seemed almost a humili 
 ating concession. Many extreme abolitionists will be dissatisfied, 
 but the National spirit will rise to the emergency. "This is our 
 house, and it must not be pulled down over our heads," is the 
 feeling of the masses. "If it does shelter some vermin, it shall 
 
96 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 not be removed from its foundation on that account. We will 
 kill our own rats when we get ready," is the popular feeling. 
 
 It is to this common sentiment that the Executive has wisely 
 appealed, and already the response is greater than the demand. 
 I was ready to go with a company of militia that I have been 
 drilling for a week, but word comes that our quota is more than 
 made up. I shall therefore wait, and in the meantime study 
 military tactics, and be ready for the next call. In the interim 
 
 I have a place in 13 s store as clerk, in place of one of the boys 
 
 who has enlisted; and you, my dear girl will graduate and be 
 home in a little less than ninety days, so I shall see my dearest 
 before I go, should this strife be prolonged as I fully anticipate. 
 I know you are brave and patriotic, and will fully enter into the 
 spirit of events as our women do here. I believe every soldier 
 who went, had his outfit of lint and bandages furnished by some 
 loving woman. It was a brave sight when our boys started from 
 the county seat, but not a very cheerful one. Still the spirit of 
 the country is very fully aroused, and I feel confident the issue 
 will be squarely met. 
 
 Now do not overtax yourself for graduation. Take plenty 
 of excercise in the open air, and come home showing what 
 capacity for study a sensible girl can illustrate. 
 
 Yours with every pulsation of my being, 
 
 EDWARD LANGDON. 
 
 OBERLIN, April 20^, 1861. 
 My Own Brave Friend: 
 
 Your letter came this evening, and before I sleep I must 
 answer it. I think you are right in your forecast of the war, and 
 I know its terrible meaning. The wrong we have silently allowed 
 to fall upon others, is now resting like a pall on our own heads. 
 We have permitted the apologists of slavery to say that the 
 Negro slaves are wanting in the fine sentiments that make us 
 shrink from the sundering of family ties, and that their imbruted 
 natures are not susceptible to such agony as we suffer. Now it 
 seems to me that in this very fact lies an enormity of wrong too 
 little considered even by the best of us. To be robbed of our 
 capacity to suffer, implies a moral paralysis that is far worse than 
 acute mental pain. And now, even handed justice with its unerr 
 ing measure, is meting out our deserts as a people. What a ter 
 rible avenger is this equal balance, and we cannot touch with the 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 97 . 
 
 heel of contempt, the interest of the lowest, but like an electric 
 chain it is felt through every link. 
 
 I wish you could have heard Prof. Morgan Sunday morning. 
 He was sublime. He took up this theme of our National sin. 
 His text was from Lamentations iii. 40: "Let us search and try 
 our ways, and turn again to the Lord." I have never heard him 
 speak so grandly. It was a most searching discourse and indi 
 cated the same leading thought you have expressed in your letter. 
 It stirred the young men like a trumpet. I think there will be 
 no holding back on their part, when any new demand shall come. 
 
 But after all, it is terrible. I think I could easier throw 
 myself into danger, than see you and Charley go, with the uncer 
 tainty that this involves. I think I never realized before how 
 much we have had to be thankful for in past years. I met a Ger 
 man lady the other day, who said she was most grateful that her 
 husband was not likely to be conscripted as he would be in Ger 
 many. She told of their conscript system and how rigid their 
 military laws were, and I realized that we had been indeed a 
 peculiar people. 
 
 AVe are all wishing and praying that this first call may not 
 be repeated, but I do not think we dare hope. This measuring 
 out to us the measure we have meted is, I fear, but just begun. 
 I otten wonder if the supercilious indifference of women that one 
 sometimes sees on the ([iiestion of slavery is to thus find them 
 out, and pour upon them the tribulation that is merited by those 
 w r ho see the anguish of other souls, and do not seek their deliver 
 ance. I have also found another class of women who are afraid 
 to express themselves as to right and wrong in political matters. 
 They seem too dainty to utter a decided opinion. And these too, 
 must have their burden of woe with the rest. 
 
 I will say for Oberlin, that on most moral questions, there 
 is less cowardice than among the generality of people, but many 
 of the women are too timid to speak out what is in their own 
 hearts. I saw this last winter in regard to urging the Legisla 
 ture to pass more just laws for the protection of women. And 
 now the time is at hand when they will need to be especially 
 protected in personal and property rights, and particularly in the 
 guardianship of children. I heard a lady lecture in an adjoining 
 town on this last winter, but the leading citizens did not desire 
 to have her come here. Some gain was made, I believe, but not 
 even yet has a sense of equal rights been apparent. lSTo mother 
 
98 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 is the guardian of her lawful children unless the Court permits. 
 I hope I am not rabid on this question, but sometimes I find 
 myself filled with a sort of righteous indignation. I pray God, 
 if this war continues, that those who have so long sat in darkness 
 may have their eyes enlightened. 
 
 I am so selfish as to be comforted that you were not required 
 now, but equally glad that you were ready. I do not think I 
 could respect a coward, and true respect is quite essential to love 
 in my code. And so, God willing, we shall see each other before 
 you are called away. 
 
 Ever your own, 
 
 NETTIE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 It was the Fourth of July, but there was less rejoicing than 
 mourning. It was apparent that the ninety days had not been 
 sufficient to bring back the seceded South or to render the North 
 victorious. But patriotism was still a living principle in the 
 hearts of the people, and the call for new enlistments was 
 promptly responded to by ready volunteers. 
 
 Kansas, that late battle ground of principle, had answered 
 the call like a young athlete. She had not forgotten her long 
 arrears of wrong. She, at least, knew the value of her suffrage. 
 
 But other motives than those of patriotism often swayed men 
 who joined the army. 
 
 None of the Turner boys had enlisted, though they were 
 loud in encouraging others. Their business was too pressing. 
 They would have to stay at home, and already they began to scent 
 the battle from afar, and to count on army contracts. Elder Tur 
 ner himself had been exceedingly cautious in his expressions. 
 He had become fond of long rides in which Mary and Miss Wil 
 der frequently accompanied him. He often guardedly sounded 
 the latter to learn how she viewed the state of affairs, and finding 
 her openly patriotic, he had carefully abstained from all expres 
 sions of sympathy with the cause of rebellion. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 99 
 
 But his private advice to Brother "Wai worth was, to be very 
 guarded in his course, as a body couldn t say what the result 
 might be. Mrs. Walworth had been spontaneous in her expres 
 sions of patriotism, for she looked at her baby boys, and thought 
 how sad it would be if they should grow up into a heritage of 
 strife and bloodshed. In matters that may touch the lives or 
 fortunes of their children, the simplest and most untutored 
 mothers are often wiser than the most astute statesman. But 
 this lady of culture had read, and though her thoughts had been 
 modestly compressed to suit the requirements of society, she 
 had made some deductions from French and German history that 
 taught her how terrible it would be, it, instead of a land of peace 
 and prosperity, we should become involved in perpetual strifes. 
 Then too, she had read her Bible to some small purpose, and had 
 recognized the eternal enmity between justice and injustice, and 
 "woman like," as the Rev. Mr. Walworth used to say, she some 
 times spoke out, without first consulting her husband at home. 
 
 Brother Turner had been occasionally consulted on this im 
 portant question, and he sometimes called and took Sister Wal 
 worth and the babies out to ride, and on these occasions sought 
 to guard her against a course that might be detrimental to the 
 popularity of her husband. 
 
 She listened meekly, and was so ready to apologize for any 
 inadvertence, that the good man often contrasted her with the 
 late Mrs. Turner. How much pleasanter to have a woman meek 
 and ready to reverence the wisdom of man, than for her to set up 
 her own opinions; and he felt sure that Miss Wilder would be 
 another possessed of the same gentle manners. 
 
 It was on the evening of the Fourth of July, after some 
 public demonstrations in the patriotic line, that Elder Turner had 
 a pleasant party to tea. The house had been as thoroughly reju 
 venated as the master himself. It had been duly painted white, 
 every window was supplied with the greenest of new blinds, and 
 the veranda had been added to the south side, its ceiling overhead 
 
100 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 painted bluer than the sky itself. Within, the change was 
 equally pronounced. A fine Brussels carpet of very bright pat 
 tern covered the floor; a divan upholstered in green and gold bro 
 cade, with window curtains to match, surprised the beholder; lace 
 curtains were duly supplied, while a costly mirror hung over the 
 mantel. The chairs matched the divan, and the marble topped 
 table stood in the center of the room and the grand piano filled 
 its destined niche against a richly papered wall. 
 
 Evidently the upholsterer had been ordered to do his part 
 without regard to expense. The dining room was equal in ap 
 pointments to the parlor, and even the chambers had been finished 
 and in some degree lurni&hed. There was one chamber especially 
 to which Mrs. Walworth and Miss Wilder, the only lady guests, 
 were taken to lay off their light wraps. It was furnished in rose 
 color and the walls were hung with rose colored and silver paper. 
 
 The whole aspect of this newly vamped home struck Mrs. 
 Walworth with a strange sense of incongruity, and she was almost 
 startled to fancy she heard a sort ot grim laugh, and a whisper at 
 her ear, "Isn t it just as I told you?" However there was no one 
 there, except the smiling, dimpling Miss Wilder, but the wind 
 was blowing the rose colored curtains rather briskly, and she 
 knew it was this slight sound, and her own fancy that had sug 
 gested the ghostly whisper. All the same it was the verification 
 of the dead woman s prediction, and yet it was not quite a year 
 since she had made it. 
 
 Nothing could exceed the suavity of the host. He had 
 invited a lawyer and a doctor, with their wives, but the ladies had 
 sent apologies; they were too weary to attend. 
 
 While the ladies were up stairs, the gentlemen sat on the 
 veranda and smoked cigars. The Rev. Horace W al worth seldom 
 declined one when it was of the right brand, and there was also 
 a bowl of iced lemon punch that had been offered, as especially 
 needed by the lawyer who had made the speech, and the minister 
 who had read the Declaration of Independence. Not long after, 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 101 
 
 the sound of the piano drew them to the parlor where the ladies 
 were found trying and admiring the new instrument. 
 
 The Elder proudly inducted his three guests into the splen 
 did arm chairs, and himself lounged on the divan, his white duck 
 pants and white vest and grey coat, strikingly suggestive of Lord 
 Eland, while he carelessly toyed with his gold watch chain. Jim, 
 the barber, had kept his side whiskers in excellent shape and they 
 had not been allowed to fade during the season, while they had 
 grown long and elegant in form, brushing over the coat collar. 
 At the urgent request of the gentlemen, Miss Wilder played and 
 sang many old songs, accompanied by Mrs. Wai worth and her 
 husband who had a fine bass voice, and at last they called for 
 " John Anderson my Joe," which was played and sung with spirit. 
 
 The babies, with Mary, soon came in, and in a short time 
 tea was served by Aunt Marty, she having been summoned for 
 the occasion. The Elder was radiant, as he seated Miss Wilder 
 on his right and Mrs. Wai worth on his left. "The happiest man 
 in a fooPs paradise for ten miles round," whispered the doctor 
 to the lawyer. 
 
 Mrs. Wai worth noticed that the old cracked table ware had 
 been replaced by gilt edged china, and the old worn knives and 
 forks by silver plated articles. 
 
 The absence of the sons was apologized for by the host as 
 they were too patriotically inclined to come home so early. 
 
 While they were eating their cake and confections, a shout 
 was heard at the door, and presently in staggered John Byrne, 
 shouting and cursing. He had enlisted for the war, he said, and 
 now "good by Betsey and the babies." She had said she could 
 get on alone better than with him, and he d let her see what it 
 was to manage a farm without a man to the fore. The Deacon s 
 smiling face grew dark, and he rose with apologies and took 
 Byrne by the arm and led him into the kitchen, the drunken man 
 shouting, "No yo don t, old side whiskers." Here he ordered 
 Aunt Marty to get him a strong cup of black coffee, and then 
 
102 A WOMAN S QUESTION. 
 
 with his teeth set commanded him to keep quiet till he got 
 through his tea, a threat Byrne regarded. 
 
 With a face restored to placidity, he returned and apolo 
 gized to his guests, remarking that Byrne was one of the best of 
 fellows, but for this unfortunate weakness, which was greatly to 
 be deplored. But the incident had somehow pricked the bubble 
 of pleasure, and the bright, gallant speeches he had studied up to 
 make Miss Wilder, when he should have her alone, riding 
 from the Walworth s by a long circuitous drive, remained forever 
 unsaid. He did not even drive home with his guests, but sent 
 his oldest son, Robert, who had just returned, while he, investing 
 himself in a common suit, prepared to see Byrne home. 
 
 The latter, somewhat sobered, began to bemoan his rashness 
 in enlisting, and begged his father in-law to help him secure a 
 substitute, so that he could go on with his business. Elder Tur 
 ner was not disposed to aid him in this direction. He knew his 
 daughter had suffered untold agony, and he felt that it would do 
 the man good to be under discipline for a few months, and then, 
 if he behaved himself he could get him out. His chief concern 
 now was to find how deeply he had got in debt so that he could 
 assist Betsey by his advice, and so afford the poor girl a little 
 rest. 
 
 "I don t s pose if my debts were all paid, there d be a cent 
 left, but the use of the homestead and the best thing I can do is 
 to get shot and leave a pension tor Betsey and the children," the 
 man said, as he became more lucid. " She and they will be glad 
 to see the last of me, I ve been so posses t by the devil the last 
 two years. I s pose they can t drive Betsey from the homestead, 
 for she wouldn t sign the last mortgage, and I came near killing- 
 her for it; but she said she d die before she would see the chil 
 dren turned out of house and home, and I am glad now she did so. 
 She has some of her mother s pluck and good sense, and she 
 needs it now. But I thought then it was mean of her and looked 
 as if she didn t trust me. You see a man wants to be master in 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 103 
 
 his own house. But its a good thing, after all. It was the 
 whisky, and not Byrne, she said, that she was standing out about, 
 and she was right. "When I get away, she ll manage enough 
 sight better than I should." 
 
 After saying this, he rode on silently by the side of his 
 father-in-law, over the long stretch of prairie, the darkness gloom 
 ing around them, with only once in a while a flicker of heat 
 lightning. 
 
 By and by the Elder became aware that the man was sobbing. 
 He at last laid his head on his horse s neck and seemed utterly 
 broken down. "To think," he said, "what a likely chance I had 
 to be a respectable man, and well off, and now I ve thrown it all 
 away! I ve abused my wife, I came near killing little Bobby, the 
 dearest child that ever lived, and Jack and Lizzie a most hate me, 
 and even the babies are afraid of me and all for that cussed whis 
 ky. Ef you hadn t said it was good for a man to take some when he 
 was working hard, I don t believe I should have done it. Betsey 
 remonstrated, bat I said you had done it all your life, and you 
 kept a level head and was an Elder in the Church, and no reason 
 why it wasn t just as safe for me. And now I have finished up, 
 and listed for the war." 
 
 When they reached his home they found his anxious wife 
 still up, and evidently afraid he had met with some accident, for 
 she came to the door, as they could see, and looked anxiously 
 around. The terrors of a drunkard s wife are unceasing. 
 
 She heard her father s voice and ran out to see what new evil 
 had come, but hearing them speaking pleasantly together, she 
 went in and arranged the supper table. 
 
 Elder Turner never forgot the look on Betsey s face when he, 
 at Byrne s request, told ol his enlistment. The long bitter years of 
 humiliation and abuse were annihilated, and he sat before her 
 the brave, handsome young lover, the tender proud father, the 
 brisk, active, prosperous business man. He had been better edu 
 cated than her own father and brothers, and she had cherished 
 
104 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 high hopes for his future. There had once been talk of nomi 
 nating him for the Legislature. And now, the few bitter years 
 were all swallowed up by this great wave of agony, and her cry 
 was, "O my darling, how can I give you up!" During that 
 memorable night, during which no one of the three slept, he 
 solemnly promised amendment, and it was a pledge sincerely 
 given. 
 
 Among his neighbors, he commanded a certain respect, and 
 when they found he had enlisted as a private, and was sober dur 
 ing the drill of the following week, they proposed electing him a 
 lieutenant, and when the time came for the regiment to report 
 for duty, Lieutenant John Byrne marched away in the glory of 
 his new uniform, followed by the tears and blessings of his wife 
 and children. "Come back to me sober Byrne," whispered his 
 wife as she hung round his neck, "and it will make amends for 
 all." 
 
 Byrne s reproof had been a shock to the self approval that 
 had so long deluded Elder Turner. How much of this responsi 
 bility rested on his shoulders? Had Betsey suffered all the 
 agonies of a drunkard s wife, because he had been able to drink 
 moderately and not become a drunkard? He hardly believed it, 
 and yet, he might be wise to look a little after his boys, whose 
 habits their mother had so much feared. He must caution them 
 against danger. 
 
 Some few weeks after Byrne s departure, Betsey came in to 
 see her father about their business. They had owned 620 acres 
 ot land, bought with Government Warrants. Byrne had mort- 
 giged all but the homestead for three thousand dollars, and the 
 interest would soon fall due. There were some steers she could 
 sell, and meet this, and she should try to pay off the hired men 
 from the products of the dairy, and she and the children would 
 get along alone. 
 
 " But you can t never pay the debts, Betsey," her father said. 
 " You better let the land go." 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 105 
 
 "]N"o, not if you will pay a fair price for the steers," she said 
 resolutely. "I am going to save every foot of the land. See if 
 I don t." 
 
 "I haint much opinion of wimmin s management," he said. 
 "I see you haven t," said she looking round. "If mother had 
 lived, you d never have laid out eighteen hundred dollars on the 
 house and furniture. But I don t find fault. I only wish she 
 could have had an easy carriage to ride about in afore she died." 
 
 "Well, Betsey, I manage my own affairs, and I allow you 
 will yourn. I ll pay you a fair price for the steers, as I am likely 
 tu git a contract from the government that ll give good profit, 
 but I ll advise you to be dretful careful of expenses. A woman 
 haint much idea of the cost of livin ." 
 
 With this sentiment ringing in her ears, she started home. 
 She had many things to ponder. She must lay her plans so as 
 to have no needless hired help, and she must be with her boys 
 and encourage them all she could. There was .a good breadth of 
 corn well grown for the time of year, and haying had already 
 commenced. With the help of her oldest boy she could do all 
 the mowing and raking hay for the keeping of their teams and 
 other stock. Bobby could herd the cattle and Lizzie, her girl, 
 twelve years old, could tend the two little ones and get on with 
 the house work. Then she would hire two men for a couple of 
 weeks to put tip the hay, and as soon as the corn was ripe, she 
 and Johnny would begin husking. Life did not look half as 
 hopeless to her now, as it had done for two years past. She 
 thought of her husband with pride, and his letters gave her no 
 end of satisfaction. 
 
 That night she held a council with her children and told 
 them her plans. They believed in their mother, and agreed to do 
 just as she thought best. "But what about going to school?" 
 asked Johnny. "You know I haven t had any chance, and I am 
 getting to be a big boy." 
 
 " I know it, and I must see what can be done. School meet- 
 
106 PHILLIPI A, 
 
 ing comes in September, and I must see what influence I can 
 bring to bear. If we can get a good woman teacher, I ll try to 
 get her to board here, and she can ride to school and back every 
 day, and you and Lizzie can study evenin s till we get through 
 huskin corn. I can t see any other way, can you bub?" The 
 boy could see nothing better and so the plan was carried out, and 
 bis education was not overlooked as before. Expenses were cut 
 down, money was saved, the corn crop was reserved, prices went 
 up and, it may as well be said here, Betsey Byrne eventually 
 cleared off the last mortgage. She went into the field with her 
 son and helped plow lor the corn, and as help was not easily 
 obtained, concluded to seed down a part, and raise wheat and 
 oats, and keep the rest for pasture. Byrne s wages were not 
 touched, but deposited in bank for the education of the children. 
 They were well clothed, attended Sunday School regularly, and 
 studied at home when they could not go to school. 
 
 " I always said Betsey was a manager," Elder Turner used to 
 say. People often forget their previous opinions. 
 
 But her boys had unlearned the habits of profanity they were 
 acquiring from their father and his hired men, and were taught 
 to abhor drinking. The State would be enriched by good men 
 through a good mother. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The call for half a million of men had met with a ready 
 response. From homes of pride they sent out their best and 
 bravest, from the lowly homes of the poor the sons of toil freely 
 offered themselves, the native born citizen and the newly made 
 citizen vied with each other in springing to the defense of an 
 imperiled Nation, for ours was a government for all humanity. 
 
 One poor widow whose sons w r ere all enlisting, when asked 
 how she could possibly spare them replied : " Of what value would 
 their lives be without a country?" 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 107 
 
 So, with one heart and one mind, all that had in them an 
 abiding sense of patriotism, responded to the call of the Presi 
 dent till the quota was full. But there was a class like the Tur 
 ners, who patriotically staid at home, and took contracts, and did 
 the voting, and talked of the foolishness of the government in 
 thinking it could whip the South. Others thought that we could 
 not carry on the government for want of foreign exchange. Cot 
 ton had so long been king, that they could not see how we could 
 find any commodity with which to replace it. But such had 
 forgotten that He who rules in earth and in the armies of heaven, 
 had also intimated that the earth is His and all its fullness. Kot 
 only had the hills given up their treasures of iron, silver and 
 gold, but the rocks had poured out rivers ol oil, and the land had 
 yielded its abundance. And so we had in kerosene and corn two 
 kings upon the throne, and our foreign exchange instead of 
 dwindling away grew in importance. In fact, the thoughtful 
 began to see and comprehend that this was God s and not man s 
 conflict, and that he had ordered forth his armies for the terrible 
 wager of battle between liberty and slavery. 
 
 Thus, when Edward Langdon heard this call, he was ready 
 to respond, and with a company of well mounted men which he 
 had raised and drilled, he reported at the local rendezvous, to 
 meet with the demand from the company that he should go out 
 in command. They knew no other man who had sufficient mili 
 tary discipline. 
 
 His reply was: "My best services are due my government. 
 I am willing to serve, either as a private, or in any command to 
 which you may call me, on condition that you have such confi 
 dence in me that you will yield unhesitating obedience. It would 
 humiliate me far beneath the ranks, if one of you, my old neigh 
 bors and townsmen, should fail of duty through want of confi 
 dence in me as an officer." 
 
 The enthusiasm of the boys was unbounded. They knew 
 him and trusted him. 
 
108 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 The regiment was soon to leave for the front, and none felt 
 more keenly than Langdon, the terrible sacrifices he was called 
 to make. 
 
 His widowed mother would suffer silently the double widow 
 hood of her life, since he had come, as good sons do, to be a sup 
 port and reliance to the lonely mother that made her half forget 
 her widowhood. 
 
 There is no more sacred tie than that which binds mothers 
 to the sons whom they have reared to man s estate who have 
 fulfilled their hopes and ambitions, giving promise of lives full 
 of usefulness and honor. 
 
 And now this mater doloroso was to give up her son for the 
 sins of the world. She was not a weak, foolish woman, or she 
 could not have reared such a son. Indeed, the boys had some 
 times thought her almost hard in her requirements of self-denial 
 and prompt action, and Edward had sometimes said that he had 
 been reared in a military school, the discipline had been so exact. 
 But now he felt its value. He had not a slipshod habit ot which 
 to prune himself. 
 
 And there was another "farewell" that he felt it would be 
 hard to utter. Should he be left to suffer in some far oft hospi 
 tal, and possibly die, without having a right to call Annette to 
 his bedside, or to ask her to love and cherish his mother as her 
 own. He must decide quickly for time was pressing. 
 
 He had seen her after her return from O., and they then 
 knew that their plans tor the future must all be changed, if not 
 forever set aside; and though they felt the sacrifice to be un 
 speakably bitter, yet neither said that it must not be. But on 
 this last morning he came to a sudden resolution and going to 
 the office of the county clerk, he took out a marriage license, and 
 summoning the chaplain of the regiment, who was with his com 
 pany, they mounted in haste and rode over some ten miles, to the 
 Wilson homestead. 
 
 I^etty had determined that her grief should not be made a 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 109 
 
 spectacle for the curious, and so had decided to remain at home, 
 trusting to see him for a brief hour, and then to feel that the 
 light of life had gone out. 
 
 From her chamber window she discovered them, and half 
 annoyed that he should not be alone, she ran down and called her 
 father who she knew would not iorgive it should she not give 
 him the opportunity of saying his good speeds to her young war 
 rior. To her surprise they rode on to the field where her father 
 was at work and in a few minutes she saw her father and Charley 
 coining with them to the house. 
 
 When they came in, she had retreated to the parlor and 
 there Langdon found her pale and trembling. He went to her 
 as she stood by the window, apparently looking out at the splen 
 did horse he had ridden, but her eyes were too full of tears to see 
 anything but the dreary prospect of vacant years. He took her 
 in his arms and whispered his request that she would permit him 
 to call her his wife before he went away, so that in sickness he 
 could call her to his bedside, or if death should come, she could 
 claim his shattered remains and bring them to the home of his 
 loved ones. 
 
 "I have obtained the sanction of your parents and now I 
 ask your own." 
 
 "Why Edward," she sobbed, "it is the only thing that could 
 give me any comfort," and then she laid her tear stained face on 
 his shoulder and her sobbing heart was pressed against his own. 
 "And now my darling, you are forever my own," he whispered, 
 "and may God keep us both till the day of our land s redemp 
 tion. You will open your heart to me in your letters, and my 
 comfort in sorrow and darkness will be in the sweet messages of 
 love they bring." 
 
 Words were too inexpressive for the poor girl, but she sought 
 to be brave and courageous, and to lift up her drooping tear- 
 stained face, and act the womanly part and become the consoler 
 in her turn. 
 
110 PHILLIPIA," 
 
 In a short time, the chaplain came in, and the family were 
 called, and the solemn compact was ratified that made their two 
 lives as one, while they were to be separated by the great neces 
 sity laid upon all who felt the sacredness of National life and the 
 obligation to secure its highest ends. Then came the hasty, agon 
 ized parting, and Annette was left alone to watch the fleet steed 
 as he carried her brave young husband to mortal peril. "O, if I 
 could go with him, how it would lighten the mental burden of 
 our lives," she said to her mother; forgetting, as children will, 
 how near and dear they are to their parents, in the newer love of 
 husband or wife. 
 
 The mother said gently, "Do not forget that you are our 
 child, and we have loved you all these years, while Edward has 
 not known you only half a life time." 
 
 "I am not so sure of that," said the young wife, "I think 
 we knew and loved each other long before we were born, and 
 shall continue to do so long after we die." 
 
 "Long may you be consoled by that thought," returned her 
 mother, "but I fear some wives, and some husbands too, rejoice 
 that death ends the compact." 
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 During the autumn following the commencement of the war 
 Mrs. Menloe received the following letter from her daughter, 
 Phillipia. Its contents naturally troubled her. 
 
 AUBUKNDELL, October 10//6, 1861. 
 Dear Mother : 
 
 Your letter, which was most welcome, as yours always are, 
 yet gave me exquisite pain. So darling Lilly has to give up all 
 the anticipated joys of the coming year, that her dear Noll may 
 be a soldier. How terrible it is that the strongest ties must be 
 severed and that among those innocent of having done anything 
 to provoke strife. Horace, I am thankful to say, will not be 
 called to do military duty, so I and my little ones will not be 
 
PHILLIPlA, 111 
 
 bereaved. Yet sometimes, when I meet the wives of the soldiers 
 who have gone and left them with their little families it seems 
 selfish for me to rejoice that I am not likely to endure this ordeal. 
 One of our Methodist ministers from an adjoining town has gone 
 as a chaplain, and I have thought, sometimes, that Horace might 
 yet be called to some such duty. Yet he says he is more needed 
 here, and Brother Turner, of whom I have often written you, 
 says he is more needed now than ever. And then too, dear 
 Horace is far from being in good health. He has tried a great 
 many kinds of bitters, and yet he does not seem to feel strong 
 and well as formerly. 
 
 Only last week, he said he did not see how he was going to 
 get his morning sermon written. So I took the babies up to the 
 study, and while Menloe amused little Horace, I sat down and 
 wrote for him, he giving me the topics and I, filling in the out 
 line till I had written quite a sermon. He was so thankful I 
 could help him out with his duties. Of course I could not do as 
 well as he does, but you know I could carry out the general de 
 sign and he could change it somewhat in delivering it. It makes 
 me more and more thankful that I have a more solid education 
 than many, and I am grateful to my dear good father that he let 
 me learn some things that girls do not generally acquire. 
 
 For instance, in the matter of accounts, I keep them all, 
 such details are so burdensome to an intellectual man like Horace. 
 And now, as his salary is to be cut down, and our expenses are 
 increasing in many ways, it will be of great importance that I 
 should be able to fully understand financial matters, and to re 
 trench wherever it is possible. I fear dear Horace will not be 
 able to retrench as much as will be necessary, to make our salary 
 meet our expenses. 
 
 The doctor has rather advised him to smoke as he is disposed 
 to be nervous, and of course he must have the finest quality of 
 cigars and they are very expensive; and so of the medicine that 
 somebody is constantly recommending, and which, in his miser 
 able condition, he feels he must use. So I am thankful to be 
 able to keep my own accounts, and to know that I am not using 
 more than my share for the house and the children. 
 
 You see, I do not even keep a nurse for the little ones, it is 
 so pleasant and comfortable to care for them myself, and know 
 that they are not neglected or abused, and I do most of my house 
 work. 
 
112 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 How hard this terrible war is making it for many of onr 
 neighbors. There was a member of our church who enlisted last 
 spring, leaving a wife and four beautiful children. He was a 
 very strong, healthy man, and had no thought of dying for years 
 to come, so he did not even leave a will, thinking his wife could 
 manage everything till he came home at the end of three months, 
 for she is a very capable woman. But in six weeks his remains 
 were brought home for interment. 
 
 It was a pitiful thing to witness the grief of his wife and 
 children. Horace preached a beautiful sermon on the uncertainty 
 of life and the danger of delay in preparing for death. This 
 strong man, who had gone out in the confidence of his strength, 
 had been smitten by pneumonia, as his regiment was encamped 
 on the low damp grounds near Cairo, and in one short week, his 
 life was ended. There was a great concourse of people attended, 
 for Lieutenant Camp was a great favorite. 
 
 Horace does preach wonderful funeral sermons, I wish you 
 could hear him on these occasions. I seleted the hymns, and 
 assisted the choir in preparing music for the occasion, but Miss 
 Wilder relieved me of all responsibility about the organ. She 
 is really invaluable in her department. 
 
 I must tell you that we are having a little quiet amusement, 
 Horace and I, over the infatuation of our good Brother Turner. 
 He has grown deeply interested in his daughter s musical educa 
 tion, and frequently urges Miss Wilder to accompany him and 
 Mary home to spend the night. She goes occasionally, and I 
 think she fancies that he is desirous of promoting a match be 
 tween her and his eldest son, but we think his attentions have a 
 more personal meaning. 
 
 The Elder is at least twice her age, and though Horace 
 thinks him a man of great shrewdness in business matters, yet he- 
 is really quite uncultivated, and but for the dye stuff the barber 
 uses, would be really gray. I fear he is doomed to a sad disap 
 point me nt. 
 
 Brother Turner thinks if Horace had a few hundred dollars 
 to invest in his business of supplying beef to the army, he could 
 add a good deal to our income. But, of course we have not been 
 able to save anything since we got settled here, and so, unless 
 you should think best to help us a little in this way, we must 
 lose the opportunity. I do not like to ask it, for I feel that you 
 have already given me my share in dear father s estate, but 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 113 
 
 Horace thought I ought not to neglect this opportunity of prob 
 ably doubling the money by this investment. 
 
 With tenderest love tor you and Lilly, with whom I deeply 
 sympathize, 
 
 I remain your dutiful daughter, 
 
 PHILLIPIA MENLOE WAL WORTH. 
 
 P. S. The babies are well, and grow more lovely every day. 
 It is really cruel that you and Lilly cannot enjoy them while they 
 are so charming. Horace sends love to both of you. 
 
 P. M. W. 
 
 This letter was the first from Phillipia that had betrayed to 
 the mother any defect in the character of her son-in-law, though 
 she had noticed, during a brief visit, a certain want of considera 
 tion for the comfort of his wife, beautifully covered with affec 
 tionate demonstrations, it is true, but still to the mother s eye 
 apparent. He seldom thought to look after the supply of fuel,, 
 but left his wife to bring in the coal, and to carry out the ashes 
 when there was no help that could be relied upon, though he 
 kissed her when he went out, and the water, which had to be 
 drawn up by a heavy windlass, he allowed her to draw herself. 
 
 ISTo wonder the "mother-in-law" has been a terror to selfish, 
 unprincipled men. When their gibes fill the newspapers of the 
 land, it is an open confession of their own failures as husbands 
 and fathers. A good husband is pretty sure of developing a good 
 mother-in-law, and a selfish one a bad mother-in-law. 
 
 After reading, and re-reading her daughter s letter, Mrs. 
 Menloe wrote a guarded reply to this effect: 
 
 ROCKLAND, November 1, 1861. 
 My Darling Phillipia : 
 
 Yours is at hand. Poor Lilly is bitterly cast down by her 
 disappointment, for you know she has been too tenderly reared 
 to know how to fortify herself against sorrow. I fear I have 
 guarded her too carefully to have been really kind and generous 
 with the dear girl, but she has been so frail that I felt unwilling 
 to have a rough breeze assail her, and now she withers under the 
 first real blast. 
 
 What she will do, should any severe anguish come, such as 
 
 8 
 
114 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 death, or grievous wounds, it is hard to imagine. But we are 
 here to endure, and we must not shrink at any light touch of 
 affliction. 
 
 I regret to hear that Horace has been so badly advised. 
 His maladies seem to me the result of a sedentary life, combined 
 with too little real care. Do not encourage his smoking for that 
 will engender disease. Do not hear to the indulgence in patent 
 medicines. It is always unsafe. One does not know what 
 drugs may be introduced, nor how inappropriate they may be for 
 the condition of the supposed invalid. They are often liable to 
 induce disease rather than to be beneficial. I have known some 
 sad results from their use, and I confess to a dread of them. 
 
 Wisely, my dear daughter, draw him to think himself better 
 without, than with them. 
 
 If he could be out more, and take a little vigorous exercise, 
 it would, I am sure, do him good. I remember that some of our 
 ablest physicians have prescribed gymnastics as a relief from too 
 great prostration induced by study and want of exercise. Often 
 a little sawing of wood and splitting of kindling is just as effica 
 cious as any system of gymnastics, and that is inexpensive. 
 
 It is fold of Rev. Lyman Beecher that he used to shovel 
 sand in his cellar between his Sunday exercises, so that he might 
 eat a wholesome dinner and avoid dyspepsia. 
 
 These things should be wisely suggested, but I am sure they 
 would be beneficial to many. 
 
 As to the money, I could not at present draw any more from 
 the business without reducing my income below my probable 
 needs. I have tried to carry out your father s desire in the man 
 agement of the estate, and, as you suggest, you have already 
 received your full share. 
 
 My dear child, I deeply sympathize with you in your anxie 
 ties. May you and } T ours be always under the guidance of divine 
 wisdom. Remember me very kindly to Horace and kiss the 
 dear babies for grandma and Aunt Lilly, who joins me in most 
 devoted love. 
 
 Your ever affectionate mother, 
 
 A. E. MENLOE. 
 
 "With surprise, almost with anger, the dear devoted wife 
 read this letter from her mother. How could she give such bold 
 suggestions. If her dear Horace needed cigars and patent medi- 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 115 
 
 cine?, she and her children must do without some things they 
 had fancied essential, so that he could be supplied. And yet, 
 she did wish Horace did not think the two articles essential to his 
 comfort. She laid the letter carefully aside and when the subject 
 of money again came up, she merely delivered her mother s kind 
 message of love, and said that she could not dispose of any more 
 shares in the mill property at present, and so the matter was for 
 the present passed over. But the vims of speculation had infused 
 itself into the brain of this specious man, who was not now for 
 the first time cheating himself and paving the way for betraying 
 others. 
 
 The people around him were full of the earnest enthusiasm 
 of the war. The partial defeats of our Northern soldiers, were 
 stirring the hearts of men, women, and even children. The one 
 thought of the masses was "News from the army." Elder Tur 
 ner had his lips often to the ear of his pastor, whispering that 
 the Union could never be saved the South was stronger than 
 the North, especially when they had so much support even in the 
 midst of the North, while the South was solid for secession. 
 "Valandingham, whom he considered a very shrewd politician, 
 was fully persuaded that the South would not only repel the 
 North, but would carry the institution of slavery even to Bunker 
 Hill, and Toombs had threatened to do it. 
 
 Under these circumstances, it was no small trial to decide 
 what to do. A brilliant young Methodist minister, full of zeal for 
 the Union cause had preached some rousing war sermons that 
 had thrilled the hearts of the people and his congregation was 
 manifestly increasing, while "Wai worth s was falling off. He 
 finally decided upon a series of sermons on preparation for Eter 
 nity, in which lie could use the awful experiences of the war, giv 
 ing thrilling accounts of battles and the fearful and terrible 
 losses of life. 
 
 It suited his genius, and he wrote with a facility that he had 
 not shown for months. But the rally he made was only tempo- 
 
116 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 rary. The women had formed soldiers aid societies all around, and 
 their village became an important center. When any war news- 
 came the flag was raised, and the ladies gathered together to 
 scrape lint and make bandages, or to get ready the supplies of 
 butter and vegetables already demanded by the nearer hospitals. 
 
 Among those who had gone out with such brave hearts, one 
 after another had succumbed to sickness, or been wounded in 
 skirmish or battle, so that many were beginning to wear mourn 
 ing- 
 
 But prices were advancing, and our old friend Turner was lin 
 ing his pockets to good purpose. Scarcely a day passed that he 
 did not meet Mr. Wai worth and express his regret that he could 
 not control a little money and double it in less than a year. 
 
 Thus tempted and beguiled, Horace Walworth began to sug 
 gest to his wile that they might help themselves to a handsome 
 fortune by mortgaging their home for two thousand dollars, and 
 by the end of a year have enough to redeem it, and as much left 
 for further investment. 
 
 Mrs. Walworth was not pleased with the suggestion. It had 
 been no small comfort to have this home; and she had inherited 
 from her thrifty New England parents, a great dread of debt 
 under any circumstances. 
 
 She only said to her husband in reply to his suggestion, that 
 it might be wise in a pecuniary point of view, but it did not seem 
 to her quite right, as it was a gift from her mother, to take any 
 such step without her approval. She ought to consult her. 
 
 " My love," said the Rev. Horace in alarm, " 1 beg you will 
 do nothing of the kind. Your mother is not your husband, and 
 remember, any reference to her, as to your obligation to obey me, 
 is a direct reflection upon the wisdom and goodness of God in 
 making woman subject to man as her lord and master, even as 
 Christ is Lord over the Church. I did not think it possible that 
 my wife, whom I cherish as the apple of my eye, could so betray 
 me. My love! my love! How could you so doubt my wisdom 
 and my true affection." 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 117 
 
 "O my dear husband," said Phillipia as the tears rained over 
 her face, "how hard it is, if our duty to our parents must be all 
 set aside for our love to our husbands. Ought the two to conflict? 
 God has said, Honor thy father and thy mother, and this was 
 my earliest lesson. I never thought it could conflict with that 
 other and sacred duty of obedience to the husband. Believe me, 
 dear, I had no thought of setting aside your commands: but, 
 indeed, I did not think you could desire to command me in such 
 a matter as this." 
 
 "For your own good, and for the good of your husband and 
 children, I am sure it would be right for me even to command; 
 but that I shall not do. Your compliance with my desire must 
 be voluntary," and with the air of one who had need to forgive 
 much, he walked out of the house. 
 
 Poor Phillipia could not now go to her closet and pray, and 
 seek consolation in solitude, for her children were both crying, 
 and she had to soothe them as well as she could. When this was 
 done, and Menloe had again turned to his play, and the baby had 
 mused himself to sleep, she went about getting tea, sobbing as 
 though her heart would break. She had a feeling that if she gave 
 her consent to this measure, it would be the beginning of an un 
 wise course that would end in driving them from their home. 
 But she tried to control all expression of feeling, and at last so 
 far succeeded that she was able to meet her husband and Elder 
 Turner whom he had invited to tea, with outward composure. 
 
 "A good evenin Sister Walworth," said the Elder shaking 
 hands with uncommon unction. "Brother Walworth urged me 
 to come and take tea, and as Mary and Miss Wilder have gone to 
 sing for a soldiers aid meeting at O., I thought it would be rather 
 lonesome to our house." 
 
 "It is neighborly of you, I am sure to come, Brother Tur 
 ner," said Phillipia, trying to be cheerful. "It seems to be quite 
 the thing now to get up such concerts, and I am sure they must 
 be doing a great deal of good. I saw Mrs. Harlan s son the other 
 
118 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 day when he was home on sick furlough, and he said it was a 
 sight that made the boys hearts glad when the ladies from the 
 Evansville Aid Society came to the hospital and looked after 
 them. The physician in charge was accompanying them as they 
 passed through inspecting the hospital. Harry Harlan lay with 
 his head on a straw pillow, through which some brambles were 
 pricking his neck and ears. One of the ladies, who had been 
 listening to the boast of the surgeon that everything was as com 
 fortable as possible, was so fascinated by his pale sunken face and 
 glittering eyes, that she turned back and came to the side of his 
 cot. He whispered, "Feel of my pillow if you want to know how 
 comfortable we are." She felt it and exclaimed, "You poor boy f 
 We provided soft pillows! And how do you fare? Have you 
 had any fruit or jellies that we have sent?" "Not any," said he. 
 "We think the fare pretty hard." 
 
 She went out and called the surgeon back, her dark eyes 
 blazing with indignation. "Feel this pillow surgeon" said she. 
 "Are all these cots supplied with such soft pillows? Our ladies 
 sent a full supply of good feather pillows, and this is the way our 
 poor boys fare is it? I would like to know what is being done 
 with the fruits we have sent here. These boys, just recovering 
 from fever, need such things. They have been accustomed to 
 them and we mean they shall have them." 
 
 "Harry said the surgeon fairly quailed before the little 
 beauty, and tried to apologize saying that as soon as it was 
 deemed safe, they would see that the boys had the benefit of their 
 benefactions." " It must be hard for boys that have never known 
 hardship to fare as I hear many of them do." 
 
 "I make no doubt that is so, Sister Walworth, and I feel 
 mighty pleased that my boys aint any of em in sich a place as 
 that. But we must all be patriotic in one way or another. Now 
 I and my boys is doin all we can to supply good beef critters to 
 the army, and you must allow that is helpin on, some consider 
 able. Now some contractors is doin mighty mean, sendin off 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 119 
 
 old hard worked oxen afore they git fatted up, and it makes 
 powerful tough eatin . Et a man sends good beef he is helpin 
 keep the army up. Don t you say so Brother Wai worth?" 
 
 "That has been my thought," replied Mr. Wai worth. "In 
 a great military movement, it is hard to say what department 
 is most important unless it is the supply department. Soldiers 
 must be fed, and well fed, or they cannot stand long marches, 
 and fight bravely. I do think the supply question very im 
 portant." 
 
 "Well that s been my idee from the fust, Sister Walworth, 
 and I take pains to put a good coat of fat on all the old critters I 
 sell ; the young stock don t take fat easy, but the old uns, well 
 worked down and turned out inter a cornfield put on a splendid 
 lot o fat in a few weeks and they git real tender comin inter a 
 sort of new growth," said the Elder beamingly. 
 
 "I was not aware of this," replied Mrs. Walworth. 
 
 "Now," continued he, "I expect to make a good lot of money 
 by doin jist this. I buy up oxen that have been pritty well 
 worked down, and jest turn ern into the cornfield, and in a few 
 weeks I have a lot of A 1, tu turn over tu the government. I 
 tell Brother Walworth ef he had a couple o thousand dollars now 
 to invest, he could make a little fortin in a short time. Money 
 turns over fast in sich a bizness, and its a pity but he could try 
 it." 
 
 "Ministers are not likely to have a great deal of money to 
 invest," she said, deprecatingly. 
 
 Elder Turner was about to expatiate on the matter, but just 
 at this crisis the baby wakened, and his mother went to the crib 
 to take him up. He seemed feverish, and presently began to show 
 signs of real illness. The mother s alarm turned the tide of con 
 versation. The child had always been such a healthy, happy lit 
 tle fellow, that this sudden attack seemed very unaccountable. 
 
 "Strange how sich Providences du occur!" said the Elder 
 piously. "Shall I go for the doctor?" "If you will, Brother 
 
120 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 Turner," said the alarmed mother, who began to fear spasms. 
 With the celerity that mothers only know how to attain, she had 
 directed Horace to get the baby s bath tub and a pail of warm 
 water, while she disrobed him, and when the doctor came after 
 half an hour s delay, the little fellow seemed relieved. The doc 
 tor looked wise, prescribed a teaspoonf ul of castor oil and retired. 
 Not one of those three men could have fathomed the cause of 
 that sudden attack, the result of the mother s anguish in her con 
 flict between obedience to her husband and reverence to her 
 mother. Many a babe has thus been offered up a sacrifice to 
 ignorance on the part of the mother, and authority unwisely ex 
 ercised on the part of the father. If the mother cannot nurse 
 her child in a condition of comfortable equipoise, better feed it 
 from the milch cow, that grazes quietly in the pasture. The ill 
 ness of the baby for a time turned the Elder and his pastor aside 
 from their scheme, and after a few days, things took their usual 
 way. 
 
 But Phillipia had been stirred up to a sense of impending, 
 danger. In the midst of her reflections she recalled some words 
 of Mrs. Turner, which at the time had seemed quite incongruous, 
 "Du your duty as a wife, and stick tu yer money ef yer hav any." 
 
 Had it come to this, that she felt like accepting the fact of a 
 divided life? Was she losing confidence in her husband, and 
 seeking out ways of safety that set her apart from him? Better 
 die at once, than live to distrust either his honor or his practical 
 wisdom, and feel compelled to stand alone, and look to her own 
 abilities, and even to appeal to God as against the conduct or 
 wisdom of her husband. 
 
 God and our sympathizing Elder brother, alone know how 
 many disillusions good women have lived over, with outward 
 calm, trusting the humiliating secret of their bitter disappoint 
 ment to His ears alone, and learning from the Holy Spirit of truth, 
 the patience and silence that, have kept them faithful to them 
 selves, and to the highest duty, while all the flowers of fresh 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 121 
 
 young love have faded, and no true fruitage lias grown in their 
 stead. 
 
 The result of her bitter draught was not a wise resolve to 
 keep her home, which she could have done, as the laws of the 
 State then permitted, but to sacrifice all to her husband s de 
 mands, and even her own life if that could make him happy. 
 
 In the meantime, he held long counsels with Elder Turner, 
 and became more and more feeble in health. The deacon had 
 advised him to try lager beer, and this was his daily solace, to 
 gether with occasional new bottles of patent medicine. 
 
 Had any one said to his wife, "Your husband is in danger 
 of intemperance," she would have hotly resented it. She pa 
 tiently assisted him about writing his sermons, read to him, 
 talked with him, and regretted that her education was so far 
 inferior to his own that she could not enjoy the classics, for his 
 sake. She was sure it would be such a delight to him; though 
 it the truth were candidly told, he had no sense of privation in 
 this direction. 
 
 He had not taken high honors, either in Latin, Greek or 
 Hebrew, and he repeated with genuine sincerity, his old compli 
 ment, that he preferred her just as she was, and never admired 
 strong minded women; and the equivocal compliment comforted 
 her immensely. How fortunate for her that her dear husband 
 was not exacting, but was content with her mental inferiority. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Says Sweden borg: C A soldier, if he be in love of military 
 service, and is sensible of good in the protection of the State, or 
 in his own fame from that good, and according to it, he procures 
 to himself the science of his profession, and if he be in command, 
 of its intelligence. These are as truths, by which the delight of 
 his love, which is its good, is nourished." With this spirit Ed 
 ward Langdon had gone into the military service of his country, 
 
122 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 "the good in the protection of the State," was his highest motive. 
 Thus, he neglected no duty, however trivial it might seem. 
 
 He perfected himself in the new cavalry regulations then 
 just issued, which were to this effect, as detailed in his first letter 
 after the regiment was really on the enemies ground. 
 
 CAMP JACKSON, NEAR ST. Louis, October, 1861. 
 My Darling Wife : 
 
 Here we are, in sight, as it were, of conflict. Already Fre 
 mont has done some daring deeds. He is making his way to 
 Western Missouri, taking for his body guard Major Zagonyi s 
 battalion of cavalry. This Zagonyi is a daring fellow, and some 
 of his dashes will some day read like a romance. From all I can 
 learn, Gen. Fremont really comprehends this war question bet 
 ter than any other one of the department commanders. He does 
 not intend to defend the property of the master in slaves, recog 
 nizing as he does, the real purpose of this rebellion. 
 
 IS ow you will understand that the cavalry and infantry do 
 not march together, unless the proximity of the enemy makes it 
 necessary. This may explain how Zagonyi happened to be so far 
 from the infantry. 
 
 I find this in the new army regulation and I write you a copy 
 that you may have a clear idea of how we appear marching 
 through the country, and so you may better comprehend our 
 duties: "In cavalry marches when distant from the eneray, each 
 regiment, arid, if possible, each squadron, forms a separate column 
 in order to keep the same gait from front to rear, and to trot, 
 when desirable, on good ground. In such cases, the cavalry may 
 leave camp later and can give more rest to their horses and more 
 attention to the shoeing and harness. Horses are not bridled till 
 time to start 
 
 " Cavalry should be distributed in echelon, on the wings and 
 at the center, on favorable ground. 
 
 "When it is necessary to dismount cavalry and send them to 
 the trenches, they should be employed as near their camp as pos 
 sible, and posted between the detachments of infantry. 
 
 "Men belonging to the cavalry may, in assaults, be employed 
 in carrying fascines and other materials, to fill ditches or make 
 passages. 
 
 "The general officers of cavalry are more particularly em 
 ployed in the service of posts and detachments placed in observa- 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 123 
 
 tion to protect the siege. They, and the field officers of this arm 
 are employed in the command of escorts to convoys of whatever 
 arms the escorts may be composed. When these duties are not 
 sufficient to employ them, they take their share of the duty of 
 the trenches. 
 
 "Mixed brigades are sometimes formed of infanty and light 
 cavalry, especially tor the advanced guards. 
 
 "The light cavalry is employed as flankers and partisans, and 
 generally tor all service out of the line. 
 
 "Heavy cavalry belongs to the reserve, and is covered, when 
 necessary, in marches, camps or bivouacs, by light troops or 
 infantry of the line. 
 
 "The arrangement of troops on parade, and in order of bat 
 tle is: 1st, the light infantry; 2d, infantry of the line; 3d, light 
 cavalry; 4th, cavalry of the line; 5th, heavy cavalry." 
 
 I have copied thus far that you may read the reports of skir 
 mishes, battles and retreats with a clearer understanding of the 
 uses and the methods of this arm of the service. I want you to 
 feel as though you saw us as we "go marching on," each column 
 in such perfect step that you would almost think it moved as by 
 one pulse-beat. I must confess that the perfect discipline of army 
 life is not irksome to me, but rather the reverse. Of course we 
 have had no real service yet, but have simply done a little recon- 
 noitering, and I presume that for some time to come, it will 
 be our main business. I shall like the stir this is likely to give, 
 far better than any other duty that may be assigned. It gives us 
 pleasant exercise, it taxes our observation, it prevents a sense of 
 ennui. 
 
 Now, my darling, you ask me what you shall do about teach 
 ing, this coming winter. Did you think I had married you to 
 use my authority over you? I believe the chaplain forgot, or 
 neglected to make you promise to obey, so I suppose you will 
 use your o\vn good judgment and pleasure, just as you have been 
 doing hitherto, guided by the wisdom of your father and mother. 
 But, if you were in the army, and I was at home, I am sure I 
 should desire some absorbing occupation, that would keep me 
 from constant anxiety. Yet, I entreat you not to undertake too 
 much. That is all the suggestion I desire to make. How long 
 our separation may last, I know not, but believe much will de 
 pend on the general spirit of the powers at Washington. But 
 whether long or short, it is an inexpressible comfort to be able to 
 
124 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 call yoa my wife. I do not fear any tempting princes in my 
 absence, but if there were any to make their apperance, I am sure 
 my Penelope would be wise and true enough to outwit them all. 
 I know that every night your prayer ascends to the Father of 
 mercies for me, as mine does for you, my heart s dearest 
 Adieu my wife, my dearest self, 
 
 EDWAKD. 
 
 It was thus the two young lovers, and many others whom 
 this new and terrible war experience was separating, tried to com 
 fort one another, while the great tide of time swept on engulfing 
 so many, and leaving such a multitude of homes desolate. 
 
 Lawyers and courts were busy settling estates, the weeds of 
 mourning enshrouded many a face that only a few months ago 
 had beamed with pride as the lover or husband had gone away in 
 all the bright trappings of martial glory. 
 
 Annette had found a position as teacher in an academy at 
 the county seat, and with a b^ave resolve not to fall below her 
 husband s expectations, she had commenced her work. On Sat 
 urday afternoons she went to the sanitary rooms, and solaced 
 herself by working hard for the soldiers. A few ladies in the 
 State had taken cognizance of the need of some change in the 
 laws to meet the pending emergency, and in some measure pro 
 tect the women who were so sadly bereaved. 
 
 How strange are the limitations of the human intellect. 
 AVhile we are ready to sacrifice life, fortune and sacred honor for 
 a conviction, we will, even in the midst of our warfare for a prin 
 ciple most dear, turn and stab it to the heart when we see its 
 face, and do not recognize it of kindred blood, or of the same sex. 
 
 It was during the first winter after the commencement of the 
 war that Capt. Langdon received the following letter from his 
 wife. 
 
 K , February, 1862. 
 
 My Darling Husband: 
 
 Your letters are my great solace during these bitter months. 
 To know that you are well and cheerfully doing your duty is 
 always a comfort. But sometimes my hopes for my country are 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 125 
 
 not as brilliant as I could desire. The course pursued towards 
 Gen. Fremont has stirred up my wrath to a high pitch. He saw 
 the real casus belli and met it as it seems to me, as a wise man 
 ought. Are we sacrificing so much to help guard the slaves or 
 return them to their masters? If so, better sound a retreat and 
 march home at once. I have heard some strange confidential 
 revelations, which show me why he was superseded. They come 
 from a reliable source and I think are true. He had encountered 
 many obstacles in his work of organizing and arming his soldiers 
 in his department, and was just beginning to make actual war r 
 which seems contrary to the hesitating, slipshod methods of our 
 Eastern Generals. Then he refused to become a party in some 
 army speculations, that got him the ill will of some who are in 
 Mr. Lincoln s immediate confidence, and they possibly fear expos 
 ure. He has been prompt and efficient in pushing things for 
 ward. Commodore Foote told a friend that while Fremont was 
 in command of the department, he was never annoyed with need 
 less delays in furnishing material for his gunboats, and men were 
 never refused him for his work. After Halleck came, there were 
 perplexing delays. Then the rescinding of the order of emanci 
 pation in his department, they regard as instigated by those whose 
 fears for their own honor were only too well grounded. 
 
 It seems to me that is the only way by which a blessing can. 
 rest on our arms, the freeing of the slaves as a war measure. I 
 am not disposed to criticise Mr. Lincoln, for he is not always 
 surrounded by wise advisers, nor can he fully understand the will, 
 or sentiments of the people. 
 
 But there is another matter that has stirred me up to a 
 higher pitch of ire than anything I have ever heard. 
 
 One of our ladies who has done a great deal in sanitary work, 
 and who in the Kansas troubles gave very effective aid, went with 
 petitions signed by some of our best citizens to our legislature at 
 Springfield, asking for a change in the law, which, especially at 
 this time, seems very reasonable, ?o that in case of the decease of 
 a husband, intestate, where the estate is not above five thousand 
 dollars, the wife should remain in possession, and use the prop 
 erty with only the same limitations that pertain to the man when 
 the wife dies. She should be held responsible for the debts 
 against the estate, and for the nurture and proper care of the 
 children, precisely as the father is held in case of the death of 
 the mother. ]STow in view of the present state of affairs this 
 
126 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 seemed only the most -just and reasonable thing to ask. But 
 what do you suppose was the result? I heard the story from one 
 of my neighbors who was in Springfield at the time. The peti 
 tions were presented by a Senator, when one of our army officers, 
 
 Col. , who had got a furlough so as to fill his seat in the 
 
 Senate and draw his pay for the two offices, proposed to refer 
 them to an unsuitable committee, which is contrary to the rules 
 established, and suggested to this committee a burlesque report. 
 It was done, and a few days after, the lady being in the Senate 
 conversing with one of the members on some philanthropic 
 scheme, the report was read. It was too vile to be published, 
 3 et all the members, from the Lieutenant Governor down, laughed 
 over it as an excellent joke. The shame of it was, that it was 
 done by members of the Republican party, whom this lady had 
 actively aided from its very birth. Some of the Democratic 
 members met her as she was going out, too much humiliated to 
 even speak her resentment, and they expressed their shame arid 
 sorrow that a lady should be so treated. You see it was tramp 
 ling under foot, not only the sacred right of petition, but dis 
 honoring their own mothers. 
 
 But our enemy was soon slain. The man who had defiled 
 his manhood by this shameful report, had a drunken debauch 
 with some of his comrades, and before she left the city the papers 
 announced his death from heart disease, though it was well known 
 it was delirium tremens. When I heard this story, I felt that I 
 should never petition any mortal legislature for anything less 
 than my right of suffrage. When I think of these things, and 
 hear men deride "strong minded women," I wonder if we are 
 really worth saving as a Nation. 
 
 God is good, and has no limit to His patience, while men 
 turn their faces towards the truth, even though they are so very 
 far from it, but runs to meet the returning prodigal while he is 
 yet afar off, so I hope on. 
 
 I am glad you are manly enough, not only to claim your own 
 rights, but to also concede to others the same justification of their 
 rights that you demand, for otherwise I could not have esteemed, 
 much less loved you. And not to have known and loved you, 
 would have been an irreparable misfortune. 
 
 I hope you will be able to do something wisely for the 
 deliverance ot the slave from his bondage. It is terrible that it 
 must come through war, but if in no other way, why this is better 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 127 
 
 than the continuance of wrong. If a member is afflicted with 
 deadly disease, better cat it off than that the whole body should 
 perish. 
 
 May God s mercy keep you in all your going out and coming 
 in, is the constant prayer of 
 
 Your faithful and loving wife, 
 
 ANNETTE. 
 
 As time wore on, and the people became impatient of the 
 ineffectual measures that seemed to prevail in the army ol the 
 Potomac, Northern men, old friends and neighbors of Mr. Lin 
 coln, went to Washington and tried to in some way give strength 
 and purpose to those who were, figuratively speaking, in a vault, 
 into which only a few rays of the sun could penetrate. One of 
 the representatives from Illinois said to an old political friend, 
 "How do the people feel! Will they sustain Congress and the 
 President if they venture to say the words, Confiscation and 
 Emancipation?" 
 
 "They are demanding it. Gen. Butler has made himself 
 famous by his word "Contraband," and if you have any regard 
 for the will of the masses you will move in that direction." 
 
 " I wish the people would move in that direction. If, for 
 instance, the people in my district would get up a petition to that 
 effect, I should be obliged to present it and that would lead to a 
 great discussion." 
 
 "I think I know some one who will undertake this," said 
 his constituent, and he returned home and mentioned the matter 
 to a lady who had sent all her sons to the army, and who now, 
 after caring for the affairs of the home, found time for National 
 work. 
 
 "Yes," said Mrs. Harlan, "I have already had this in mind, 
 and am corresponding with some parties in regard to it. You 
 know one must have some small means to get printing done and 
 to start out on, and then I think I can work my way." 
 
 So Mrs. Harlan went on with her work, writing to many of 
 the Union Leagues, and stating the fact that the government at 
 
128 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 Washington desired an expression of their opinion, so freely 
 given at home, but so little expressed to their servants at Wash 
 ington. 
 
 It was wonderful to see how quickly men responded to this 
 thought when it was put in form for them. On the cars she 
 would hear men discussing the stupidity of the government and 
 almost cursing the delays, and the brilliant reviews of McClellan s 
 splendid army, which even a French prince could admire. He 
 could also wonder at and deprecate the strange delays. Was this 
 young General withheld, that the sentiment of justice might grow 
 and the people yet demand the measures that should fulfill the 
 divine purpose? The restraints that now withheld from one race 
 freedom to grow into a truer and grander capacity for obedience 
 to the divine will, must be removed. "Let this people go that 
 they may serve me." 
 
 When Mrs. Harlan heard murmurs from men of apparent 
 influence, she would put her petitions into their hands and inquire 
 if they had made it their business to write to their members and 
 keep them posted as to the character of public sentiment. " Re 
 member they are your servants, and they await your instructions. " 
 
 Members began to receive letters and petitions and to com 
 pare notes, and so the ark of the Lord moved forward. Did the 
 great and wise men know that they were led by the hand of a 
 woman? 
 
 In the meantime, the sanitary work was assuming vast pro 
 portions in the hands of the women. In Chicago Mrs. Livermore 
 and Mrs. Hoag organized for a great western work. They gave 
 of their abundance, they gave of their penury. The rich woman 
 came with her baskets full of soft cloths for bandages, and stores 
 of fruits and jellies, the poor washer- woman whose husbands and 
 sons had gone at the call of patriotism, came with her cheerful 
 shining face, to give half a day to scraping lint, making bandages 
 or underwear such as could be used by wounded men. Teachers 
 were giving up their positions and offering themselves as nurses. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 129 
 
 It is wonderful to watch the development of a grand spirit of 
 patriotism, which sweeps away all littleness, tramples down all 
 pettiness and exalts the humblest to a divine sympathy. This 
 was shown on both sides in many individual cases, where wounded 
 enemies were treated like brethren of one family. 
 
 It is such emergencies as these that make us know that the 
 poorest spirited are worth saving. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 "Good is of the will; truth is oi the understanding." Some 
 times could we understand this, we might be saved from much 
 evil. We may desire the good of others, a sentiment growing out 
 of our affectional nature, but to really see and comprehend what 
 will be truly good, there must be understanding. And this celes 
 tial attendant of man must stand out boldly and assert her right 
 to be the guide and helper. 
 
 Phillipia had a soul full of good will, but she had been taught 
 to distrust her own understanding of truth. So, as the autumn 
 glided into winter, and her husband kept up his importunities, 
 and her own health became again precarious, she began to waver 
 in her purpose to assert her right to have and to hold her own 
 home. Horace w r ould say: "My love, should any special dispen 
 sation of Providence remove you from your family, would it not 
 be well to have something invested in my name, so that I could 
 use it for the benefit of our little ones ?" 
 
 "It might be, dear," she would reply, and then he would 
 dilate on the value of having money where it could be used in so 
 wise a manner that they would soon be really independent. 
 
 About the new year, he brought in his good friend Brother 
 Turner, who was prepared with a special mortgage, technically 
 known as a "snap mortgage," which gave no time to the debtor 
 to recover himself, but was absolutely a deed in case of the fail 
 ure to meet interest or first payment. Phillipia did not even 
 
 9 
 
130 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 read it. Her husband said: "It is all right, my love," and she 
 accepted it with a full conviction that it was all wrong, which she 
 tried to smother. 
 
 The Elder had consented to indorse the note at the bank, 
 holding this mortgage as his security. The interest was exorbi 
 tant, but this was thought to be a trivial matter and the Kev. 
 Horace was satisfied. The investment was in his own name, and 
 he felt his importance as a man, greatly enhanced. 
 
 One bright May morning, a little daughter was laid in the 
 bosom of the young mother, who accepted it with tender grati 
 tude, and tried to feel that this new care would not be too great 
 for her strength. Her mother came a few days after, and kindly 
 ministered to her necessities, and proposed taking little Horace 
 home with her as she felt that her daughter s hands would be 
 more than full. 
 
 Horace had entreated her not to mention to Mrs. Menloe 
 that the place was mortgaged, as being only a woman, she could 
 toow very little about the wisdom of such an investment. Phil- 
 lipia hesitated. Would not there be some want of good faith in 
 thus withholding from her mother what she really ought to know? 
 He silenced her questioning by telling her that it was not only 
 his pleasure but his will that she should keep this secret invio 
 late. So the burthen was passed to her unresisting shoulders and 
 she was comforted with the consideration that she was doing her 
 duty to her husband, and that she had really no choice in the 
 matter. Obedience was the first law. And then she said: 
 " Peace between him and me is more than life. I could not 
 endure existence if he really disapproved of me." 
 
 Mrs. Menloe was not quite happy in her daughter s condition, 
 though everything was outwardly serene. She saw that there 
 was some falling away irom Mr. Wai worth s church, that some 
 whom she had formerly met seemed almost estranged, and she 
 fancied that Phillipia was not the frank, light hearted woman she 
 had been when she last saw her. Then the " ill health," the plea 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 131 
 
 of suffering from " malaria " was such a constant apology for 
 bitters of one sort and another, and of daily use of lager beer, 
 that it gave her anxiety. She chided herself and would not really 
 admit her fears, yet Horace was growing rather stout, and his 
 full cheeks were becoming of that dark red that we sometimes see 
 in people who are more than generous livers. Could she warn 
 her daughter? That might be perilous. Could she speak warn- 
 ingly to her son-in-law? That would never do. The man s 
 supremacy must be acknowledged and maintained. 
 
 She could see no other course but to do all she could for her 
 daughter s comfort, and then return to her own home. So all 
 the clothing for the children was reviewed and repaired, and new 
 dresses made for their mother and the Rev. Horace s garments 
 carefully revised, the house put in perfect order, a tolerably com 
 petent housemaid secured, and then she would hasten home. 
 
 Mr. Walworth had hitherto shown great fondness for his 
 mother-in-law, but some how he had grown somewhat restrained, 
 and seldom entered into free conversation. Elder Turner was a 
 frequent guest, and they seemed to have some business consulta 
 tions that she could not account for. 
 
 One day she said to Phillipia, "Elder Turner and Horace 
 seem to have a great deal of business to discuss. Does he find it 
 so very hard to raise his salary?" 
 
 " I think it is rather hard since the war. You know some 
 of our members are in the army and some have died, and the es 
 tates are in the hands of the lawyers, and so a great many find it 
 difficult to pay much. But I suppose we ought to have our share 
 of privation with the rest." 
 
 "At least you have your husband at home, and that is a 
 comfort," said the mother. " Poor Lilly lives in mortal suspense. 
 She says if she should survive Oliver, life would not be worth 
 living. I try to make her feel that duty is more to us than hap 
 piness, that if we are called to suffer for its sake, some compen 
 sating joy will come. I think little Horace will be a great 
 
132 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 comfort to her, and that is one reason why I am anxious to take 
 him home with me, and I see his father will not miss him. 
 Children do not seem to interest him as they did your father." 
 
 "No, I suppose a student is not so likely to be attracted by 
 their cunning ways as a business man, though Horace is really 
 very considerate and careful of them, I do assure you. He thinks 
 there were never two such bright little fellows as our boys, and I 
 am sure he is delighted with baby Nelly. 
 
 "Yes, doubtless," said her mother. "Our own crows are 
 whitest, are they not babies?" and the fond grandmother stooped 
 and patted their golden curls. 
 
 That evening Elder Turner called and wanted to see Brother 
 "Wai worth in his study. He was led thither by the .Rev. Mr. 
 "Walworth in person, the latter wondering what calamity had be 
 fallen his worthy friend, who seated himself on the divan and 
 bowing down his face between his hands, gave way to sighs and 
 moans. 
 
 "What is the trouble, Brother Turner?" inquired his pastor. 
 "Any business losses? Anything amiss about army contracts?" 
 
 "Brother Walworth, my heart is jist broke. O, the faith 
 lessness of women!" was the piteous response. 
 
 "What can you mean, Brother Turner?" anxiously inquired 
 his pastor. "Who can have in any way proved faithless to 
 you?" 
 
 The Elder was too much affected to speak for some minutes, 
 but finally drawing out a highly perfumed pocket handkerchief, 
 he wiped his bedewed eyes, and began his confession. 
 
 "Mebbe you ll think I ve been foolish, but really Brother 
 Walworth, how could I help it. Miss Wilder has been, so tu 
 say, jist as sweet as honey, all the time since fust she came. My 
 Mary was her fust scholar, and I bought the fust pianner she 
 sold here, and I ve took her and Mary out ridin many s the time, 
 and she s been to my house with Mary and staid, time and agin, 
 and played and sung with Mary and the boys, and I ve waited on 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 133 
 
 her tu suppers, and bought lots o jimcracks when she had a 
 table, and she was always as sweet an srnilin as could be." 
 
 "Well, I don t see anything amiss in that, said Mr. Wai worth, 
 who though not keenly alive to the ludicrous began to find it 
 hard to look duly sympathetic. 
 
 "That is about what she said tu me this evenin when she 
 spoke tu me ter say good by. She s gone East. She said she 
 was greatly beholden to my kindness for makin her stay here 
 agreeable, and she hoped I d accept her grateful acknowledge 
 ments. Then I told her, pine blank, that I d counted on her 
 stayin and I intended tu marry her." 
 
 "O, indeed!" said she kind o mincin like, "that is very 
 surprisiii tu me." 
 
 "And what did you think of all my intentions ter you?" I 
 ast her. "You must have seen that there was somethin more 
 than common onto my mind, when I took you round so much in 
 my kerridge, and took you out tu so many suppers and soldiers 
 aid parties," said I. " Men don t throw away their money for 
 nuthin , and you was old enough to know it." I spoke ruther 
 stern like, and she looked dredful kind of fraid. Said she: "Elder 
 Turner, you must forgive me ef I did wrong, but I looked to you 
 as a kind of a father, and I thought mebbe you wanted tu make 
 a match between me and Robert. But we had an understanding 
 a good while ago, and now I m a goin down tu Washington to 
 nurse my young man who is sick in one of the hospitals." 
 
 "Now jist think on t. All this time she was a purrin 
 round like a cat, she had her young man, I s pose, a writin tu her 
 every week. I tell you Brother Walworth I ve lost all faith in 
 human nater." 
 
 "Don t be too hard on her, Brother Turner. It is true you 
 do not look old, but then your sons and grandsons betray you. 
 Of course she must have taken your attentions as given in a 
 fatherly sort of way, and as she said, she and Robert had had an 
 understanding, and she most likely inferred that he had told you 
 of the engagement, which, I suppose is of long standing." 
 
134: PHILLIPIA, 
 
 "You may excuse her as much as you will, but I tell you its 
 a bitter disappointment and one I sha n t git over, Brother 
 Walworth." 
 
 "I wouldn t be too sure, Brother Turner. This war is leav 
 ing a great many likely widows, and a widow, they say, makes a 
 far better wife than an old maid. You see she has learned how 
 to be in subjection, and an old girl usually gets her head set. A 
 man wants a woman he can easily bend to his own will, not one 
 who will bend him to hers. If I am not greatly mistaken, Miss 
 Wilder would be strongly set in her own way." 
 
 "You may be right, but she was a mighty tidy, trim body, 
 and I d lotted on havin her movin round my home, and a fixin 
 things up and a playin on the pianner, and it seems as though I 
 can t give it up;" and again his head was bowed between his 
 hands. 
 
 "Time is a great consoler, Brother Turner and we all have to 
 let the scars grow over more or less." 
 
 "But old trees don t heal easy, Brother Walworth, and be 
 sides, they haint got time fer it. I tell you its a heart breakin 
 aftair." 
 
 The two sat in silence for a few minutes after this, and then 
 Mr. Walworth asked, "How about business now, Brother Tur 
 ner?" 
 
 "Fust rate, Brother Walworth. But I say, your wife wont 
 say nothin ter her mother?" 
 
 "Bless your heart, no. She regards my pleasure too highly 
 for that, and besides, the good woman goes home soon." 
 
 "The sooner the better, in my opinion. She has mighty 
 sharp sight, that woman has, and it aint a good thing in a woman," 
 moralized Brother Turner. " I could tell some sperence in that 
 direction, but well, let the dead rest in peace is my motto. 
 But Molly did see right through a feller, lights and all, and my 
 Betsey takes arterher powerfully. Du you know, Brother Wal 
 worth she refuses tu put a cent inter my bizness, and she and her 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 135 
 
 boys is a managin things right along. Only last week she 
 bought a lot of steers and is a fattin of em for the Chicago mar 
 ket, likewise a dozen shoats ter follow up in the cornfield. She 
 knows how things is done." 
 
 This talk about Betsey of whom he was very proud, even 
 though she refused to be ruled by him, made him quite cheerful 
 and he went down and spent a pleasant evening with the ladies. 
 Mrs. Menloe started home the next day to help bear her share 
 of the great burdens of the Nation, together with a load of anxiety 
 for her patient, elder daughter. She took little Horace with her, 
 and this she hoped would a little lighten the burdens laid upon 
 the young mother. 
 
 One day, shortly after Mrs. Menloe had gone Mrs. Camp 
 came to her pastor with the burthen of her woes. She told him 
 that her husband had left no will, and that she had consulted with 
 her own brother, and also with a lawyer, and they had told her 
 she must take out letters of administration, and must have every 
 thing appraised and divided and sold if that was best. She had 
 paid out the last ten dollars she had in hand to take out letters of 
 administration, and something would have to be sold to pay the 
 appraisers. "Now," said she, "if my husband had lived, I could 
 have gone on and managed as well as Betsey Byrne ; but, according 
 to my lawyer, I ve got to sell off my young stock to pay up the 
 debts, when if I could keep things and manage as I want to, I 
 could pay everything by the growth on the young cattle. Then 
 I find I can t be both administrator and guardian and that will 
 make trouble. No two people think just alike about the care of 
 children and it makes it perplexing. What can be done Brother 
 Wai worth?" 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Camp, you will find it wise to follow the 
 law," replied her pastor, "I find all this discontent with the wise 
 arrangement of courts, very disturbing to the peace of society. 
 A woman is not fit to bring up her family without the care and 
 guidance of men, and the law thus beneficently provides her with 
 
136 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 the care of the court when her natural head is taken away. The 
 law says in effect, I will be a father to the fatherless, and a hus 
 band to the widow. Follow the law, and you will be all right, 
 Sister Camp." 
 
 "Yes, I shall have the use of a third of a small prairie farm, 
 with most of the stock sold, and the children in the care or act 
 ing by the advice of somebody outside of the family. And this, 
 while we are giving our heart s dearest for our country. Is it 
 not time that we should have a say in some of these matters? I 
 used to tell Mrs. Harlan I had all the rights I wanted. God for 
 give me! When my husband is gone, I find I have no rights, 
 only a poor pittance of privilege." 
 
 "Bat Sister Camp" 
 
 "Brother Wai worth how much money will be paid in court 
 fees for settling the estates of soldiers during this war do you 
 think? How many snug properties wasted? It is very well to 
 say smooth things, but the truth is hard and bitter, when we 
 have no helper, no day s man to stand between us and the law." 
 
 " Sister Camp, let me warn you not to get into this wild way 
 of thinking. It is rebellion against Providence." 
 
 "It is rebellion against the injustice of ages, that is what I 
 call it. Let the women who have been as foolish as I have, taste 
 this bitter draught of widowhood, and remember that their sons 
 will grow up in the midst of communities like this, where men 
 drink and license drunkard making, and we shall begin to ask 
 about our rights." 
 
 "My dear woman, I see you are growing wild and unreason 
 able. You had better have a talk with Brother Turner." 
 
 "Yes, and have his boys offer your ten year old sons a glass 
 of toddy, and coax them into the shop and tell them that when 
 they are fourteen years old they can choose their own guardians. 
 "What do you say to that, Brother Wai worth?" With this Par 
 thian arrow, the woman walked out. Mrs. Walworth, who had 
 been in the nursery washing and dressing her baby, could hear 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 137 
 
 every word and was not a little disturbed by the tone of the con 
 versation. The woman must be greatly excited, but then, what 
 if it should be that her Menloe should be tempted in this way. 
 The mother love was stirring to fight for its young. Already she 
 felt the wings growing, that would beat against the cage. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The year of 1862 was one of grand beginnings. The papers 
 were full of such names as Pittsburg Landing, Corinth, Pea 
 Ilidge, Island ~No. 10, etc. Maps were studied, possibilities were 
 suggested, measures criticised. On both sides it was realized that 
 Greek had met Greek. Carnage ran riot. Hospitals were full. 
 Delicate women were offering their services as nurses. The sani 
 tary work was becoming immense. The courage of the people 
 was rising with the pressure brought to bear upon their resources. 
 The great objective point now seemed the Mississippi river, 
 while the real heart of the rebellion was through Tennessee, 
 Alabama, Northern Georgia and West Virginia. Judge Bates 
 had urged the Mississippi campaign; but there lay in the hands 
 of the President and his advisers the Tennessee plan which had 
 been carefully prepared by a woman, and placed in their hands 
 in the fall of 1861; a plan which ultimately saved the Nation, 
 but which was held secretly, no man daring to say we have ac 
 cepted the saving thought from a woman. This woman was a 
 daughter of Maryland, Miss Anna Ella Carroll, who gave her 
 time and money to the careful consideration and maturing of the 
 scheme of the campaign, and while Grant was vainly striving for 
 the opening of the Mississippi route by his wondrous persistence, 
 statesmen were whispering and shrinking from the acceptance 
 and acknowledgement of the scheme so clearly and wisely laid 
 out. When mentioned, it was said to be the plan of a civilian. 
 At last the plan was accepted, but secretly, for fear of the jeal 
 ousy of military men, and from that moment success became 
 
138 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 possible. In the history of the world, there is nothing more un 
 grateful than this whole history of the treatment of a noble woman, 
 unless it be the failure to recognize the equal rights of all loyal 
 women, and to secure them the franchise as the guaranty that 
 their just claims shall not be disregarded. 
 
 Rebels have been pardoned, murderers restored to the rights 
 of citizenship, but not even this woman has had a pension be 
 stowed, or a reimbursement of her outlay in saving the Nation ; 
 and while Congress is discussing back pay to such men as Fitz 
 John Porter, and rescinding the verdicts of court martials, insti 
 tuting committees of investigation in regard to the Danville out 
 rages and Copiah murders, growing out of violated election laws, 
 this wise woman, who saved the Nation, could not even stand up 
 beside her coachman or gardener, and cast a vote, the true recogni 
 tion of a sovereign will. 
 
 No wonder that brave, wise women have often felt that a 
 great sacrifice had been made almost in vain, for what is a country 
 without justice in its inner parts? 
 
 As men fell, the ranks must be filled. More regiments 
 must be made. Then it was that Elder Turner and many of his 
 brethren all over the land, rose up in the sublime dignity of 
 patriotism, and said " We must avoid the draft." Said this pious 
 patriot, to his partner, "Brother Wai worth, I lay awake all night a 
 cogitatin how we can avoid havin a draft. It pears tu me that 
 it would be sort o disgracin to a paterotic town like our n, and 
 I ve made up my mind tu hev a town meetin specially called, 
 and git a vote to raise tax enough to hire the rekisit number of 
 substitutes. I ve been countin up the voters, and we can kerry 
 it by a big majority. Me and my boys can cast five votes, and 
 the licker men will go in for it with no persuadin at all, and I 
 can count on all the Irish votes through them, I calculate, special 
 ly if they give em a drink the day afore lection, and a half 
 pint to carry home. The old German s, whose boys is in the 
 army might go agin us, but we can have a clear majority." 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 
 
 "Will that be according to law Brother Turner?" asked 
 Walworth with some slight twinge of conscience. 
 
 "We sha n t do a thing ourselves, I was only suggestin pos 
 sibilities. I may say proberbilities, for you know, with them 
 poor fellers, there s nothin like givin a taste tu make em sociable. 
 Then they haint many on em much taxable property, and they 
 wont mind votin a tax onto other folks for such a paterotic 
 cause." 
 
 " I am not sure of your success Brother Turner, and I have 
 some question about its justice; but I dare say you are right in 
 thinking it well to raise such a fund so that there need be no delay 
 in furnishing the requisite number of men at once, on call of the 
 government." 
 
 "And as I think of it, the plan grows upon me. What do- 
 you say to having me write a leading article on this subject and 
 sending it to some prominent paper?" 
 
 "The very thing to be done, Brother Walworth. Now you 
 du that, and I ll git the wires all laid, and we ll du it and git the 
 credit on it inter the bargain." 
 
 Xeedless to say this plan was carried out, all in due order, 
 and the property of patriotic men and women who had given all 
 their sons, and of widows who had long been taxed without voting, 
 and of war widows, and war orphans, all helped to raise the tax 
 so that the draft should not fall on the sons of men like Elder 
 Turner who staid at home and speculated on the necessities of 
 the government, and prayed that the war might go on. 
 
 The seed of such men still flourishes, and we see it blossom 
 out in the shape of remonstrants and anti-temperance men and 
 women all over the land. One sometimes feels like asking, 
 "Was it well to save the land for such inheritors?" 
 
 " When this tax was to be collected, and one of the Elder s 
 sons went round the county as collector, the Elder received a call 
 from his daughter, Betsey Byrne. She had just got word from 
 her husband. He was in Andersonville, and had written, "For 
 
140 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 God s sake Betsey, find some way to send me some grub, or some 
 thing to get it with, for I am starving." 
 
 She laid the letter before her father and said: "Your gener 
 ous plan to provide substitutes will cost me a hundred dollars a 
 year, while you and the boys stay at home and make money out 
 of the war. That s what I call generous and patriotic. And 
 you might have saved Byrne, if you hadn t been so selfish. It 
 troubles me to know what God will do with such Pharisees. 
 
 Her face blazed, as she said this, looking all her wrath out of 
 her yellow eyes at her well appointed father. He, however, closed 
 his own like a cat, and said " he reckoned she warn t any the poorer 
 for the war; and as to Byrne, he was gittin so intemperate that 
 he wouldn t have amounted to anything if he had staid at home." 
 
 She turned away, lest in her wrath she should curse her 
 father. 
 
 The next week there was to be a meeting of the Synod at 
 Riverside and Eev. Horace Wai worth and Brother Turner at 
 tended, both elegantly dressed, the Elder s whiskers more English 
 than ever, and Brother Walwortli more impressive in his religious 
 fervor. Both these men made a deep impression. They said 
 much against fanaticism, and trusted that the Church would use 
 its restraining power over the women especially, who were 
 tempted to great publicity by the demands of the war. 
 
 This happy reunion of clergy and lay members terminated 
 in a free railroad ride and a grand festival given by some wealthy 
 members of the Church. 
 
 It was on this occasion, that Brother Turner was introduced 
 to a worthy widow by the name of Bo wen. Her husband had 
 enlisted with the three month s men, and had died in the hospital 
 at Cairo, just before the expiration of the time for which he had 
 enlisted. She had two daughters, one sixteen, the other fourteen. 
 She was herself about forty, a very comely person and well pre 
 served, as she had been one of those fortunate women whom 
 others rejoice to wait upon, and shield from rude encounters. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 141 
 
 Her husband had idolized her, and indulged her in every whim, 
 and the neighbors, ungenerous as usual, had said his business 
 failure was due to her extravagance, and that it was in a fit of 
 despair that he had so readily enlisted. Needless to say, she was 
 a most conservative lady, and fully met the taste of Elder Turner 
 and his competent adviser, Kev. Horace Walworth. 
 
 "She s a vine," whispered the pastor, "and I will find out 
 the possibilities of the case." The good brother-in-law, to whose 
 hands she had fallen as a precious legacy, was delighted when the 
 advances of the worthy pastor showed him the high honor in 
 store for his wife s sister, and he did all in his power to advance 
 matters. 
 
 Mrs. Bowen was altogether different from Miss Wilder, and 
 the Elder began to think he must have had friends in heaven who 
 had interposed in his behalf. 
 
 When the time came for return to Auburndell, the worthy 
 man had already made such advances that he had permission to 
 write, and also to call, should business take him that way again 
 soon. 
 
 Needless to dwell on the sweet and rapid wooing that fol 
 lowed, the letters concocted between the Elder and his confiden 
 tial pastor all went smoothly and rapidly, and before two months 
 were over, the proud Elder had transplanted the delicate, clinging 
 vine to his own garden and his house resounded with music and 
 all manner of delights. The daughters were taught to ki?s 
 "dear papa" at night and morning, and to make delightful 
 lemonades and punches for him; the dear brothers were petted , 
 and all but Mary seemed floating in an atmosphere of bliss. As 
 for that damsel, she was, at present, maid of all work, and might 
 have remained so to the end, had not Betsey come to the rescue 
 and declared she could not get on in her trouble without her com 
 pany. 
 
 The new Mrs. Turner did not object. She was diplomatic. 
 So when Mary was gone, she suggested that as the boys were all 
 
142 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 over age, and doing business for themselves, it would be best for 
 them to board out of the house, as so large a family would be too 
 hard for her and her dear girls to manage. 
 
 This strategic point gained, a good stout Irish girl was in 
 stalled in the kitchen, and Brother Turner s days began to glide 
 on in elegant ease and domestic felicity. 
 
 Mrs. Walworth saw all this, and once in a while, as she sat 
 alone while her husband spent the evening playing checkers at 
 the Elder s she almost fancied she heard the former Mrs. Turner 
 chuckling and whispering, "I told you jist how it would be." 
 
 CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 Looking over the histories of that fearful four years of war, 
 and comparing the scant record left of all that thrilled the people, 
 one feels like a wanderer returned after many years to a familiar 
 home. The records are scarcely the skeletons of that mighty 
 past. Then people were on the watch for the daily news, not a 
 movement of the army that did not involve the special interests 
 of many hearts. Letters from the brave soldier boys were carried 
 to the sanitary rooms and read and re-read. One old grandmother 
 used to say to Annette Langdon, "My dear, I have to watch the 
 whole line. Not a move can be made from Colorado to South 
 Carolina, but some of my own dear ones are involved." And so 
 it was. Langdon s regiment had been active in scouting and 
 watching the movements of the enemy, destroying railroad com 
 munications, and doing all that could well be done to harass the 
 foe. He had been unharmed, and reported himself in good 
 condition. 
 
 But a sad grief had befallen the Wilsons. Charley had en 
 listed and belonged to the army of the Cumberland and in a 
 skirmish had been taken prisoner, and was said to be in a small 
 prison in Alabama and would soon be transferred to Anderson - 
 ville, now the great Southern prison. These loving women, 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 143 
 
 mothers and sisters of soldiers, with sore hearts, but with silent 
 lips, lived on and did their duty, never faltering, never flinching, 
 seldom weeping unless death itself unlocked the flood gates of 
 their awful anguish. 
 
 The bright letters from Langdon kept his wife from absolute 
 heart break, but she was wearing to a shadow. She wanted 
 something more stirring than teaching, and so she undertook to 
 do some work for the sanitary commission, that would take her 
 out of herself. 
 
 While engaged in this work there came the news of that 
 terrible battle at Stone River. Her husband now wrote her: 
 "Hitherto I have found no favor among men or officers when I 
 have hinted at emancipating and arming the Negroes. But this 
 terrible fight has shown our men that the time is at hand when 
 this measure is called for. Now it may be discussed. Now it 
 may be argued for; the soldiers see the need of help and will ac 
 cept it from any quarter." 
 
 She had not intended to speak in public, but it became nec 
 essary to make explanations about sanitary work and before she 
 was aware of it, she was earnestly pleading the cause of the 
 soldiers and the need of sustaining the government. 
 
 As she spoke, words poured in on her in torrents, and she 
 was surprised to find how strong an impression resulted from 
 these efforts. She wrote her husband that she was becoming 
 that notorious creature, a "strong-minded woman," and was not 
 only begging for sanitary supplies, but urging the men to instruct 
 the government that it is time to proclaim emancipation as a war 
 policy. 
 
 He answered commending her work, and saying that she 
 could do more to save the life of the Xation by pleading for this 
 "policy of justice" than he could by all the military dash that 
 might lie in his way. 
 
 It was on one of these sanitary expeditions that she came 
 into the neighborhood of the Wai worths. A large audience was 
 
144 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 gathered in the M. E. Church, but care had been taken to invite 
 the Kev. Mr. Walworth and the members of his congregation to 
 take part in the exercises. 
 
 It was not till the close of the meeting, when the earnestness 
 and simple womanliness of the speaker had carried all hearts, and 
 won for the commission important co-operation, that the Kev. 
 Horace learned that this was the wife of his old chum. He was 
 profuse in his compliments, commended her work for the soldiers, 
 but hinted that it was a most dangerous thing to speak of emanci 
 pation. The Nation would not bear it, the army would revolt 
 from it. 
 
 She answered only, " My brother is in Anderson ville." 
 
 He went home to his wife and said in his most wheedling 
 tones, " My love, 1 have seen a sad sight. The wife of my old 
 college chum was actually the speaker of the evening. "What a 
 home will she ever make? If you should ever go upon the plat 
 form, my darling, I would leave you. It is so unnatural." 
 
 "But, my dear, what was there so revolting? Is she a great 
 coarse, masculine woman with a rough voice and bad manners? 
 
 " O certainly not. She is not large, she is not rough, her 
 voice is pleasant and not loud, but it is the fact of her publicity. 
 Is not that enough?" 
 
 " I hope she spoke collectedly and well. I am sure I should 
 be ashamed to hear a woman speak in a wild, incoherent man 
 ner," said his wife. "It always pains me to think of a woman as 
 failing in what she undertakes." 
 
 " Well she will never speak in my pulpit, of that I am sure," 
 and the good gentlemen went up to his study, leaving his wife to 
 ponder these things, and to wonder if ever an emergency could 
 come that would lead her out of the shelter of home. She had 
 already begun some independent thinking. The next morning, 
 Mrs. "Walworth, impelled partly by curiosity, and partly by a true 
 sense of politeness, called at Mrs. Harlan s and invited Mrs. 
 Langdon to dine with her, and explained that their husbands 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 145 
 
 were once room-mates, and she hoped they might be friends. 
 The invitation was accepted, and the two women formed a pleas 
 ant friendship over the lovely children, and Annette poured out 
 her grief over her darling brother who was suffering in a rebel 
 prison. 
 
 Annette told the story of their youthful comradeship, of her 
 interest in his studies as he had grown to manhood, the fine 
 qualities of head and heart he possessed, and the high hopes she 
 had entertained for him. "O," she said, "dear Mrs. Wai worth, 
 what if it were your beautiful son, just grown to manhood, and 
 now lying in one of those filthy prisons starving, perhaps to death. 
 To me it seems a visitation upon the women of this land for their 
 indifference to the sufferings of the slave, and their failure to 
 urge their own rights, that they might use them for the good of 
 others. I feel that if the good women had any voice in the gov 
 ernment, they would have found a Christian and wise way out of 
 these terrible issues. And now my poor mother, and thousands 
 more poor mothers, have to bear the terrible retribution. Is it 
 not fearful ? I could not stay at home, I had to go out and help,, 
 if only a little." 
 
 "My heart goes out with you, my poor stricken friend," said 
 Phillipia, sobs choking her voice. "The sufferings of those who- 
 sit and wait as my poor sister does at home, are surely greater 
 than the active service of the soldier." Thus the women talked, 
 and a tender friendship sprang up between these faithful hearted 
 women, a friendship that would be lasting as mortal life. 
 
 When Mr. Walwortli came in, he was somewhat astonished 
 to find his friend s wife holding baby on her lap, with one arm 
 round Menloe to whom she was telling a fairy tale. 
 
 His urbanity was unbounded, and he strove to make as much 
 as possible of the intimacy he had enjoyed with her husband. 
 
 Knowing what her husband had told her of his want of 
 genuine manliness, and perceiving by her own clear intuitions 
 that all was not sound and reliable, she parted from them with a 
 
 10 
 
14:6 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 foreboding that dark days were yet in store lor the sweet, trust 
 ing woman, whose eyes were as yet blind to the real character of 
 her husband. 
 
 It was bitter to think of her own husband exposed to daily 
 peril, it was agony to feel that her darling brother was daily suf 
 fering the unallayed pangs of hunger, but they were safe, their 
 lives were hid with Christ in God, for they were true to His liv 
 ing truth and need not fear what man could do to them. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 And still the tide of war rolled on. Annette heard of the 
 shrewd maneuvers of her husband in Grierson s raid, made 
 through overflowing swamps, a nd in the face of an almost ever- 
 present enemy, he was promoted, new responsibilities and new 
 honors came, and now and then a word from the dear brother in 
 Andersonville. The North began to realize dimly that God had 
 heard the vows of their fathers, and would hold the sons to their 
 fulfillment. The campaign was assuming form. The enemy had 
 determined to push out and see how far the promised sympathy 
 ot Northern men would aid them. Gettysburg had answered, 
 and over this field of blood, tender hearted women had been 
 called, when official surgeons had hurriedly left, to attend to 
 their mighty tasks, while soldiers silently buried their comrades 
 in long trenches, thinking of the mothers and sisters, and aged 
 fathers to whom the terrible news should come. 
 
 But the assurance of success lay in the fact that Mr. 
 Lincoln and his cabinet fearlessly discussed emancipation as a 
 war measure. It was said that three months previous to its issue, 
 Mr. Lincoln had drafted a proclamation to this effect, but he 
 waited to hear the demand of the people. He knew that as 
 President, he was simply the executive of the Nation s will, and 
 he awaited their pleasure. 
 
 Most people at this time, however, thought of him as Gen- 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 
 
 eralissimo of the army, and hence invested with absolute power, 
 and they grumbled at his delays and felt impatient with his cau 
 tious movements. Why was not an exchange of prisoners made 
 and our poor, suffering boys brought home to the tender care of 
 their mothers? It was hard to commend the policy of these 
 delays, and yet wise men said it must be so. We should send 
 back to our enemies an army of brave men in splendid health, to 
 receive in return a poor shattered remnant, who would never be 
 able to lift hand again in battle. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln at last said, confidentially: "If the people really 
 demand emancipation I will make it my leading policy. It a 
 monster petition could be raised, one really overwhelming, I 
 would make it a principal plank in the Baltimore platform." 
 But how was this to be accomplished? There were plenty ot 
 politicians to manage things at home, but this immense labor, 
 who could perform it? 
 
 The answer came from the women who had most earnestly 
 plead the cause of the slave, and they took upon themselves this 
 mighty burden. In this work there were associated such names 
 as Lucy Stone, Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Mrs. 
 C. I. H. Nichols, Josephine Griffin and many others. Mrs. 
 Langdon and Mrs. Harlan were among those in the West who 
 brought this question to fathers and mothers, and when the work 
 was well done, they went on to Washington with a portion of 
 their work and were there when Charles Sumner presented the 
 great petition. A few moments after they heard him say to an 
 acquaintance, "I have just presented this immense petition to the 
 Senate asking emancipation. It took four men to carry it to the 
 speaker s desk it was respectfully received and properly referred. 
 It is the greatest thing done yet." 
 
 It was during this visit that Mrs. Langdon saw how much 
 work women were doing in the hospitals, and how needful this 
 service was. Everywhere, the heart and hand of the women 
 went and supplemented that of the man. And yet, when pay 
 
148 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 was voted to men nurses and assistants, the women were seldom 
 remembered. A small number received forty cents a day. As 
 to pensioning them for loyal services which left them broken in 
 health, it has not been done to this day. 
 
 When will it be seen and comprehended that our women are 
 only wards in chancery, whose rights have not been adjusted, and 
 who are still at the mercy of a prejudiced court. Yet here was 
 " the greatest work that had been done" to put down the rebellion, 
 towards which the government had contributed nothing, and yet, 
 like Mordecai at the gate of King Ahasuerus, "No honor has 
 been done " to show that the king s life was saved by a faithful 
 servant. Will the King grow restless in his bed and call for the 
 books of remembrance? 
 
 And now, events rapidly culminated. The election was 
 again at hand, and the man who had been a marvel to all the 
 Nations of the earth, received the voice of approval and was 
 again chosen as the leader ot his people. The women had made 
 it possible for him to declare his supreme measure. At Gettys 
 burg, on the anniversary of the terrible battle, he had crowned 
 himself with immortal honors by a speech that will live while our 
 Nation lasts. His concluding words still ring in our ears, "The 
 brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated 
 this spot far beyond our power to add to or detract. The world 
 will not long remember, what we say here, but it can never for 
 get what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather to be 
 dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here 
 have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here 
 dedicated to the great task remaining before us, that from these 
 honored dead we take increased devotion to the cause for which 
 they gave the last full measure of devotion; that we here highly 
 resolve that the dead shall not have died in vain; that this Nation, 
 under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that govern 
 ment of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not 
 perish from the earth." 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 149 
 
 Then had come the culmination of Sherman s march to the 
 sea, the persistent approach through the wilderness of Grant, the 
 cutting off the means of supply by destroying their main artery, 
 the Chesapeake canal, and finally the surrender of Lee and the 
 collapse of the rebellion. There had been four years of war, and 
 billions of money wasted before the moral sense of the Nation 
 had been regenerated. 
 
 In the midst of the rejoicing that filled all hearts, and that 
 brought joy even into desolate homes, came the fearful shock of 
 the assassination of Lincoln and the attempt upon his cabinet. 
 
 Annette Langdon had been sent to Springfield with some 
 supplies for the sick soldiers at Camp Butler, and was in the 
 house of Mr. Lincoln, where one of the officers of the sanitary 
 committee lived, when the fearful thunderbolt fell. She had 
 been joyfully anticipating the speedy exchange of her brother, as 
 well as the return of her husband, but now, who could tell the 
 end. Hearts that a day before were elated with happiness, were 
 now thrilled by a new despair. Would the war be renewed and 
 a spirit of fierce extermination take the place of the kindly, merci 
 ful spirit that had led Grant to send back the rebel cavalry with 
 their horses that they might cultivate their fields in peace and 
 avoid the horrors of famine? For a moment the Nation reeled 
 from the shock, then it came back to its true poise, and life flowed 
 on in a strong and healthy current. Then followed the mighty 
 pageant of a Nation s grief. Not the storied wars of Greece or 
 Rome could furnish such another. The poor boy, born in a cabin, 
 reared in the midst of poverty and privation, yet growing up in 
 an atmosphere of freedom, and always seeing before his waiting 
 eyes the civic crown, the high possibilities of American citizen 
 ship, was to receive such funeral rites as had never befallen mortal 
 man since history began. And all because he represented the 
 great thought of HUMAN EQUALITY, equally guaranteed by tJie 
 recognition of a common claim to suffrage, because of a SOVEREIGN 
 SOUL. 
 
150 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 On the day when this wonderful funeral train reached Chi 
 cago, it seemed as though every standing place in the city was 
 full. All the regaliaed societies, all the civic bodies, all the men, 
 women and children of the city, and the adjacent country had 
 gathered at the windows, on housetops and balconies, on curb 
 stones and in ditches, and were overflowing into streets, notwith 
 standing the strenuous efforts of the marshals; yet all were 
 mourners. There was no rioting, no noisy mirth even of the 
 children, but a tender awe seemed to fill all hearts. 
 
 With one or two friends, Annette had worked her way 
 through the crowd to Twelfth street, where the funeral car was 
 detached from the train and brought to Michigan avenue through 
 the arches of flags draped in mourning that had been most artistic 
 ally constructed. Never before had the possibilities of the dear 
 flag been so apparent. It was everywhere. It covered the hearse, 
 it draped the streets from window and balcony, subdued by 
 mourning emblems, a Nation s glory palled by a Nation s grief. 
 
 Slowly the hearse, drawn by magnificent black horses trapped 
 in mourning emblems, proceeded up the avenue, followed by 
 black and white citizens, sharing in a common sorrow. No one 
 now elbowed a colored citizen aside, they were all mourning for 
 a common father. The remains were carried to the court house, 
 the square was at once surrounded by a strong cable to keep the 
 throng at bay, and orders were issued that only after certain 
 arrangements of the body in state could citizens be admitted, and 
 that by a certain routine. 
 
 Thousands, whose homes were in the country, waited long 
 into the night for this last sight of the man they had learned to 
 so love and honor. It was almost dark, when going down into 
 the street, from a chamber where one could look out on the 
 square, Annette met a young soldier who recognized her, and 
 kindly said, " Come and I will help you into the court house be 
 fore the throng is admitted. She followed him, stooping under 
 the cable, and went into the lower hall where lay the remains of 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 151 
 
 the great martyr. She scarcely stopped to take in the effect of 
 all that love and admiration had done, the draping flags, the costly 
 catalfalque; but waited beside the bier looking into that grand 
 lace, its rugged outlines softened, the beauty of the inner life 
 brought out by the touch of that master artist death, telling of a 
 clean grand soul, that had not been cheated by flattery to betray 
 his great trust, nor tempted by women or wine to his undoing. 
 He had seen at last the glory of Freedom on its highest summit, 
 and now he was translated. He had acknowledged the equal, 
 inalienable rights of all, without regard to race, color or previous 
 condition, and knew they should in justice have equal guaranties. 
 
 "Thou art grand enough to compel the tears of all hu 
 manity," she whispered to herself, "Grand enough to have died 
 in this hour of immortal victory. Let the petty work that must 
 follow, be done by other hands." 
 
 "Madam, please to move on," said a guard, and she went 
 silently out, and the throng poured in, a tide that lasted many 
 hours. 
 
 And then, all over the land, by order of the Executive, there 
 were memorial services. By a natural coincidence Annette was 
 at Auburndell, when the memorial meeting occurred. She was 
 there to await her brother, who was coming home. The services 
 were to be in the Presbyterian church, and as most patriotic 
 speakers were otherwise engaged, the Hev. Horace "Wai worth was 
 to deliver the eulogy, assisted by a brother from an adjoining 
 town. There was such a feeling of dissent from this almost in 
 evitable arrangement, that the committee sought out Mrs. Lang- 
 don and begged that she would also speak. 
 
 Her reply was, " I will speak on condition that the committee 
 publish my name as one of the speakers invited for the occasion, 
 and that I shall be treated with the same courtesy as is shown to 
 the other eulogists. I have heard that your Elder Turner and 
 Mr. "Walworth have said that I shall never speak from their 
 pulpit." 
 
152 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 The house was thronged, the doors and windows were filled, 
 and many stood outside, so terrible had been the blow, so general 
 the sorrow. The exercises had been planned by the loyal citizens, 
 and everything comported with the occasion, save the half hearted 
 apologists who from the desk sought to say smooth things, and 
 to slur over the real truths of our National history. 
 
 Said Mr. Walworth, "Our National calamity has not grown 
 out of the institution of slavery which is divinely recognized, but 
 out of its abuse. Many masters were kind and tender and truly 
 Christian in their relations, but others transcended the divine 
 order and for this we have suffered chastisement as a people. 
 But we must not forget that some are, in God s providence, 
 ordained to humbler positions than others, that the law of subor 
 dination is of God." In this strain he spoke and his fellow ora 
 tor followed in a similar spirit. He was a foreigner and might 
 be excused. 
 
 At the close of this last address Mr. Walworth said: "I be 
 lieve Mrs. Langdon will now volunteer some remarks." One of 
 the committee escorted Mrs. Langdon to the pulpit and intro 
 duced her as the wife of a brave soldier of whom they had often 
 heard. 
 
 With a strong effort at self command she said: " I come be 
 fore you, not as a volunteer, but at the request of your commit 
 tee. In olden times, when a great grief fell upon a Nation, there 
 were mourning women as well as mourning men, and in behalf 
 of the sorrowing women of our land, I rise to give voice to our 
 great anguish at this our common calamity which has come to us 
 through our sins as a people against the rights of a despised race. 
 In the person of the Negro, we have failed to recognize the son of 
 God who said, Inasmuch as ye have done it to the least of these 
 my brethren ye have done it unto me. And because of this our 
 transgression, even our first born, like the first born of Egypt 
 has been slain there was no blood on the lintel to show that we 
 were to be passed over. He who has watched these things, and 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 153 
 
 has not seen that it was not the abuse of slavery, but slavery 
 itself, that sum of all villainies, as Wesley says, that has called 
 down the bolts of divine justice, is not fit to preach the gospel in 
 this nineteenth century. 
 
 "As a people, we have professed, of all others, the divine 
 law of equality, while in practice we have trampled under foot 
 the sacred rights of more than three millions of people. This is 
 atonement day. We lay our mouths in the dust, while our bodies 
 are covered with sackcloth and ashes, and plead that this, our 
 last great sacrifice, may enable us to put aside the injustice, to 
 cleanse us from the sin, and to build us up in a true and living 
 faith and sincerity before God and man. 
 
 " And may we take heed that in the rebuilding of our tem 
 ple, there may be left no flaw, but that equal rights may be made 
 secure to all, by the concession of equal guaranties to rich and 
 poor, black and white, male and female. Let there be no outcast 
 within our borders, no being so humble, or ignorant, or poor, 
 that the guaranty of National faith shall be withheld, as it now is, 
 not only to the newly emancipated race, but to all the loyal 
 women who have offered up their treasures, who have spent their 
 lives in the care of the sick, who have saved the Nation from 
 bankruptcy by their ceaseless labors. 
 
 "Other foes may remain to be conquered, not by the force 
 of arms, but by the wise use of the ballot; other enemies may 
 waste our substance, may lay low the pride of our homes, and at 
 this hour, when the Nation s heart is tender, and when it must 
 readjust itself to a higher and juster order, we beg that the sisters, 
 the wives and the mothers may not be forgotten." 
 
 The audience felt the power of these strong impassioned 
 words. But Elder Turner whispered to Brother Walworth as the 
 throng filed out of the church, " That was a terrible thing and 
 to think our wives should have listened to it. But Mrs. Turner 
 is all right. She don t believe in strong minded women." 
 
154 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Great preparations were going on at Auburndell, for the re 
 turn ol many of the soldiers was expected on the evening train, 
 and they were to be welcomed with feast and speech and song 
 an occasion worthy the return of heroes. They had gone out 
 as very ordinary men, farmers, masons, hod carriers, carters, ba 
 kers, tailors; all the common walks of life had been represented, 
 but they were coming home victors, heroes, the Nation s saviors. 
 Every wife and mother and daughter and sister would be there, the 
 lads and lasses that seemed children when the fathers left them 
 were almost men and women now. The great wareroom at the 
 station had been cleared, flags covered the rough walls, the long 
 tables were covered with the luxuries which loving hands had 
 prepared, the coffee simmered in an adjoining room, lemons and 
 sugar abounded. II an article was missed, some fleet footed girl 
 ran to bring it. It seemed a perfect carnival of joy. 
 
 Among this throng, moving restlessly about, was Betsey 
 Byrne. Her oldest son and daughter were busy emptying bas 
 kets of baked turkey and smothered chicken and buttered biscuit, 
 and jelly cakes, but she, with a small tumbler in one hand, and a 
 bottle wrapped in a napkin in the other, wandered about like one 
 in a dream. 
 
 At last it was four o clock, and some one on the outlook 
 shouted, "The train is in sight!" and the platform was filled as 
 by magic with eager men and women. It halted, and a shout 
 rose, and an answering shout came from bearded lips as men 
 sprang from the train into the arms of wife or child, mother, 
 brother or sister. 
 
 As these moved on and into the wareroom, the feeble and 
 invalid came out slowly or were borne out by strong men. 
 
 Like a ghost just risen from the dead, slowly came Charley 
 Wilson, to be caught in the arms of his sister and spirited away. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 155 
 
 Then, helped by two strong soldiers, came Captain Byrne. 
 None but the eyes of love could have detected any resemblance 
 to the stalwart farmer who had gone out so full of strength and 
 daring. A stretcher was hastily arranged, and the poor fellow 
 laid down almost fainting. But his wife was by his side; she 
 was clasping him in her strong arms, and sobbing, "O, my 
 Johnny, my poor darling." Some one pushed her aside and 
 said: "Don t be a fool Betsey, give him a drop of brandy," and 
 he held out the glass. It was her father with his customary 
 restorative. She turned upon him like a tigress and dashed the 
 glass from his hand. 
 
 "No, you don t sell him to the devil now I ve got him again! 
 Here, my love," and with trembling hands she took from her 
 daughter the glass and bottle she had brought, "Here is some 
 beef essence that will bring you to yourself far better," and she 
 raised him tenderly and put the tumbler to his lips. 
 
 "He ll die if you re allowed your way Betsey," said the 
 Elder, pettishly. 
 
 "I tell you, I d a thousand times ruther see him die, than live 
 a drunkard. He shall have a beef critter killed for him every 
 week in the year ef he needs it, and all the cream from the dairy, 
 but don t you, nor any other man, dare to offer him a drop of 
 sperits. I believe I should kill a man who should try to get him 
 drunk." 
 
 " Dear love," she said, in a tender, loving tone, as she turned 
 her fierce defiant face from her father and brothers who had 
 gathered round, "I would ten thousand times ruther you should 
 have starved in Andersonville, than that you should be dragged 
 down to the bottomless pit by men who think only of saving the 
 body. But you will live, and you will be an honor and a com 
 fort to us all." He pressed her hand and tried to whisper his 
 assurance. 
 
 The crowd had for the moment seemed struck dumb by her 
 grand terror. Now they turned away and left her to feed him, 
 
156 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 drop by drop from the precious liquid, till he was somewhat re 
 vived, then Johnny brought round the easy carriage, in the bot 
 tom of which a soft bed had been placed and they drove home 
 through the gathering twilight, the man s head resting tenderly 
 on the bosom of his wife. 
 
 It was not quite dark when they reached home. The invalid 
 looked out with wonder. Was this the place he had left, and 
 that he had expected to find dilapidated and almost in ruins ? 
 The farm had been fenced, new outbuildings had been erected, 
 the house had been finished and painted, trees had been planted 
 and around the door yard was a border of flowers, a few jonquils 
 now in bloom. Two strong men came out and helped him in, 
 and laid him on a bed in a pleasant room and his younger child 
 ren stole quietly in and crept up to kiss him. And as he lay 
 there looking round and wondering, he said to his wife, " I sup 
 pose your father has helped you out." 
 
 "John Byrne, father hasn t helped me to a cent only to buy 
 some steers the first fall you went away. The children and I 
 have done all that s been done, and we don t owe a cent and all 
 your money is in the bank." 
 
 "But the land had to go on the mortgages, all but the home 
 stead, I suppose?" 
 
 "Not a foot on t. We kept the whole section." 
 
 After a while he asked, "Whose carriage was that we rode 
 home in ?" 
 
 " It belongs on this place Captain Byrne. But if you talk 
 so much you ll have to take some whipped egg and new milk," 
 and in a trice she was feeding him a spoonful at a time. 
 
 "Did you know that I had my feet so badly frozen last win 
 ter that I am almost sure to be a cripple all my days?" 
 
 " My feet are good, John, and quite used to walking, and you 
 can call them yours on most occasions," said his wife, " but I can 
 nurse your own better than any army surgeon, and you wont 
 want crutches many weeks." 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 157 
 
 And here was this brave woman, who had saved her property 
 from waste, who would fight for the salvation of her husband and 
 sons from the power of the destroyer, who had been taxed to pay 
 for substitutes, and she could have no voice in the making of the 
 laws, nor could she be allowed to act as guardian of her children 
 should her poor feeble husband die without a will, and only a 
 third of the real property would be hers to use. Alas for justice 
 and consistency! 
 
 In the meantime, the people at the station were feasting, and 
 laughing, and telling war stories till midnight, and then some 
 violins were found, and the young ones danced for a couple of 
 hours and then the crowd retired, the lights went out, and the 
 morrow would find half these late soldiers donning citizens attire 
 and going back to their old vocations. 
 
 Annette, in the meantime had taken her brother to Mrs. 
 Harlowe s home, and there they sat, hand in hand, almost silent, 
 she now and then whispering, " Is this really you, Charley? You 
 tall, lank, whiskered boy. And how came you to get on so well 
 so much better than most? He drew an old Greek grammar 
 from his pocket, and said: "Behold my preserver. I had carried 
 this with me, and when I was taken prisoner, it became my solace. 
 After we were taken to Anderson ville, I used to get off by myself 
 and abstract my faculties from the misery about me, by intense 
 analytical study. I am now well up in the Greek verb about 
 which you used to trouble me. And really, a few of your lessons 
 that I remembered, on methods of study, did me a world of good. 
 Then I had my old silver watch which I sold to one of the stew 
 ards and he gave me a little extra food. But I have had many 
 dreams of mother s cupboard, and of the custards and tarts you 
 used to make." 
 
 " Yes, and I shall make plenty more for you, you skeleton 
 of a man." 
 
 "But when will Ned be home, Netty? I say how jolly it 
 will seem to be all back again. But you, you look like a shadow." 
 
158 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 " When you get jour questions strung on in order I will an 
 swer. Col. Langdon reports at Springfield next week. They 
 want him to go into the regular army, but he and his wife say 
 no, we thank you. We want to live, just a little, on our own 
 account." 
 
 Early the next morning, the brother and sister left by a train 
 that connected with their own home, and in a lew hours, their 
 parents gave them joyful welcome. 
 
 In the meantime, other hearts were not made so glad. In a 
 skirmish before Petersburg, Oliver Angel, the idolized lover of 
 Lilly Menloe, whose bravery had brought promotion, was swal 
 lowed up by the springing of a mine and he and other brave fel 
 lows were lost, just as their friends were beginning to say "The 
 end is near and they are safe." 
 
 In her despair, Mrs. Menloe had sent for her eldest daughter, 
 and she, with her children, were once more in the old home. For 
 days Lilly seemed almost like one dead. She refused nourish 
 ment, she could not be roused by any common interest. Her 
 Noll was dead, and she must go to him. This apathetic state 
 was followed by strong convulsions which taxed the skill of 
 physicians, but at last the crisis past, and the poor girl slowly 
 returned to a feeble, but rational state. 
 
 The mother, in the meantime, worn out with watching and 
 anxiety, became seriously ill, and soon a fatal crisis was feared. 
 After her return from the West, she had felt the importance of 
 securing the home to Lilly and this she had done, leaving her this 
 and the small income from the factory that now remained. A 
 series of floods the previous spring had greatly damaged the 
 property, so that after the repair of losses, there was only a small 
 income to be counted on, barely enough to leave her a scanty 
 living. 
 
 Now, as disasters seldom come alone, the dark train stood 
 waiting for Mrs. Walworth. Her mother soon sank under the 
 weight of her trials, and Lilly was again brought to the gates of 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 159 
 
 death. All the responsibility of the situation fell upon Phillipia s 
 shoulders. She wrote begging her husband to come and aid her, 
 but got word in reply that he was too ill for such a journey, hav 
 ing had a severe attack of pneumonia, and the doctor had just 
 managed to keep him up on brandy. This had been his only 
 salvation. 
 
 To all this must be added her own coming accouchment, 
 which seemed a culmination of all misery. But we never know 
 how great a healer trial may become. This foreseen event, 
 aroused Lilly from her morbid grief, and gave her power to strug 
 gle against the bitterness of death. Phillipia and her children 
 must now be her all. 
 
 Mrs. "Walworth wrote to Horace begging him to come as 
 soon as his health would permit, and get the rest he so much 
 needed, and in the pure mountain air renew his strength. 
 
 In the meantime, he had been having a settlement with 
 Elder Turner. To his amazement he learned that the interest 
 had actually eaten up the principal the last few speculations 
 had been unprofitable, the war had closed too suddenly and in 
 stead of money corning to him, he had not only to surrender the 
 home to the Elder, but would still be a hundred or two dollars in 
 his debt. This the generous man would forgive him, and get 
 the Church to raise a hundred for him on which to leave, and he 
 advised him to go East and remain there. The Church was get 
 ting a little tired of his ministrations; Churches were not as 
 stable as they used to be. He would get them to pass resolutions 
 of regret, and that would sound all right. The temperance party 
 was getting the advantage of them, and a different man would 
 have to be secured, according to this wise consoler. But these 
 were not confidences to be reposed in his wife at the present time. 
 She must believe in the success of his financial management. 
 Thus advised, he got their household goods packed after a slip 
 shod fashion, some of the sisters aiding him in the work, and 
 with much sounding of trumpets, and display of lasting regrets, 
 
160 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 and flattering resolutions, the Rev. Horace Walworth, after some 
 six years of labor among the people of Illinois, retired to fields 
 where it was to be supposed his riper talents would find higher 
 appreciation. If any failure should result, it would not be from 
 want of due newspaper applause, for his most devoted friend, 
 Elder Turner, was a sound adviser in this direction. 
 
 The new baby was a month old when Mr. Walworth reached 
 his family. Another son had been added to the mother s care> 
 but with the wonderful elasticity of the maternal heart, it found 
 plenty of room, and a generous welcome. 
 
 Then the poor heart-sore aunt was most happy to name him 
 Oliver Angel, and if ever baby was likely to be overweighted with 
 love, it was this poor little one, so beggared of home and heritage. 
 
 What a welcome the father and husband received from wife 
 and children! Those beautiful little ones had inherited the 
 lovely, unselfish qualities of their mother, as well as her fineness 
 of organization, and no one could look upon them without delight 
 and admiration. And then his wife as yet trusted in his wisdom 
 and manliness; how could he tell her that he had lost for her the 
 home, and that they were utterly beggared. 
 
 Possibly this secret that so burdened his heart, led him to 
 think he needed more brandy, and his indulgence became ever 
 increasing. He said he must tone up so as to be fit for work, and 
 he began correspondence with the trustees of vacant Churches, 
 and got some chances for temporary occupation. It was during 
 this period that their household goods came, and Mrs. Walworth 
 was notified of their arrival. This was unlocked for. She had 
 supposed they were to return in the autumn, as her husband had 
 given her no intimation to the contrary. When he returned, she 
 told him of the notice she had received, and asked the meaning. 
 " Of course, dear, I suppose it is all right, but I had not money 
 enough to pay the large bill of freight," she said, deprecatingly. 
 
 " Stupid of them not to have paid it at Auburndell," he said, 
 feeling in his pockets. "I really haven t enough by me to settle 
 it, what shall we do ?" 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 161 
 
 "I suppose you rented the house, and had to pack up the 
 goods?" she remarked inquiringly. 
 
 "Yes, that is, I believe Robert Turner is to be married and 
 go into it this spring." 
 
 "What is the matter dear, you look strangely?" 
 
 "Yes, I feel so. Help me to the lounge," he said. "Now 
 please bring me my brandy flask, I have had a good many of 
 these faint spells since I was so ill." 
 
 Phillipia brought a glass and some water and he poured out 
 a dram that quite surprised her. He was soon asleep, and the 
 children were sent out to play, that they might not waken dear 
 papa. It was near night when he awoke, and his anxious wife 
 inquired if he felt refreshed, and could take a cup of tea. He 
 said he felt very much prostrated, and begged for more brandy. 
 She gave it to him, but asked if she had not better send for the 
 doctor, he seemed so prostrated. 
 
 This, he said, would be useless as he had had full instruc 
 tions from the doctor who had attended him during his illness. 
 
 "I am sorry to trouble you about business at this time," she 
 said, "but what am I to do about our freight bill?" 
 
 "Just what you please, my dear," he said with a maudlin 
 expression. "Turn my pockets inside out and make the most 
 you can out of em." 
 
 She turned away heart sick. Something terrible must be 
 the matter. 
 
 Taking her gold watch, a birthday gift from her father, the 
 last he had ever made her, she went to an old friend and asked 
 him to either buy the watch outright, or take it in pledge, and 
 let her have money enough to get her furniture from the station. 
 
 He said he did not want the watch, but would loan her the 
 money. She, however, insisted, and he took it and locked it up, 
 giving her the hundred dollars she had asked for. 
 
 Then she ordered her goods brought the next morning, and 
 with a sensation of almost mortal fear returned home. She could 
 
 11 
 
162 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 not explain her mental state, even to her herself, yet she felt un 
 willing to call the old doctor she had known from infancy. 
 Was she beginning to see the shadow ol some terrible evil im 
 pending? 
 
 In the evening he woke and in a stammering way said if he 
 had another swallow of brandy he would go to bed. Phillipia 
 begged him to have some tea instead, and at last prevailed. 
 After a short time he staggered to their room, and was soon fast 
 asleep, while his wife sat and watched beside him till midnight, 
 and then retired, leaving a light burning. She had resolved that 
 if he was no better by morning she must call Dr. Plympton and 
 see to his condition. But morning found him somewhat restored 
 and after a cup of strong coffee he was quite himself again. 
 
 As the goods began to arrive, Phillipia ventured to ques 
 tion him. First he opened his large pocket book and took out 
 the copy of the resolutions of the Church; then he found some 
 commendatory articles cut from several newspapers, and at last a 
 statement of accounts with Elder Turner. 
 
 Phillipia ran her eyes over the statement and at a glance 
 comprehended the whole. "And this," said she "is the outcome 
 of it all. Our beautiful home is lost for a paltry two thousand 
 dollars when it was worth twice the sum, and we are virtually 
 turned out of doors. I ought to have kept it in my own hands, 
 for the laws of the State permitted it, and good Mrs. Turner 
 warned me at the outset." 
 
 " You obeyed your husband, which was your duty in the eyes 
 of God and man," returned he, as though he had been the ag 
 grieved party. 
 
 " Tell me what we are to do now, Horace. I shall try to obey, 
 since that is all I have left to do." 
 
 "In a different spirit, my love," said her husband, "You 
 seem to forget your place as a woman. Y r ou promised to love 
 honor and obey." 
 
 However easy it may be to love what is lovely and to honor 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 163 
 
 what is honorable, there are times in the decadence of a man s 
 moral nature, when the woman who walks by his side is forced 
 to ask herself whether it is not infidelity to God and her own soul 
 to love that which is debased, and to honor that which is dis 
 honorable. 
 
 Her pity may be almost infinite, she may seek to conceal the 
 death-like corruption of the soul, that is thus closely allied, but 
 she cannot honor, and equally she cannot obey, the unmanned 
 being that stands beside her. This would be sinning against the 
 Holy Ghost, putting evil in the place of good and honor where 
 dishonor is due. 
 
 The truth in Phillipia s soul compelled her to remain silent, 
 waiting and praying that the terrible cup which she began to see 
 might be taken from her. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 At last Edward Langdon and his wife have found the home 
 they have so long anticipated. The wear of those dreadful years 
 has been much harder for Annette than for her husband. While 
 his career had been lull of resolute daring and command, of ex 
 citing incidents and hasty marches, she had been occupied in her 
 school or in sanitary work, her nights full of vigils or restless 
 dreams. When he came home, full of anticipation and buoyant 
 life, he found a pale thin woman who almost fainted in his arms. 
 
 During the last few months, her friends had feared that she 
 would go into a rapid decline, and only her strong will had kept 
 her up. This had led him to look for a home in a more genial 
 climate, and now as they stood in the door of their own cottage 
 home, they looked oft over a lovely panorama of hills and valleys 
 clothed in the loveliest tints of the blossoming spring time. 
 There was a newness and freshness all about them, like the new 
 life on which they were entering. 
 
 A little color was coming back to the wan cheeks of Annette, 
 
164: PHILLIPIA, 
 
 a more elastic step greeted the husband on his return after a 
 morning s absence afield, for Col. Langdon was now a farmer, 
 her voice began to echo back his ringing, hearty speech, and to- 
 again challenge him to some fine intellectual encounters. 
 
 As he met her at the door when he came to dinner, he 
 stopped to look out over the beautiful landscape, and drawing 
 her to him said, "My own dear wife, see how grand are our pos 
 sessions; though our acres are few, our horizon is large and that 
 also is all ours to have and to hold till we find something better, 
 or more desirable." 
 
 "The idea that we tw r o are in a home that is all our own is 
 too delicious for belief. Let us never go away from this enchant 
 ing spot, lest we again lose each other in this great wide world. 
 Don t let us eat the apple of unrest, and go out of paradise." 
 
 They sit down at the table spread only for two, and partake 
 of the dainty dishes she so delighted to prepare, and he to eat of 
 and praise. Sometimes he would of an evening be beguiled into 
 telling war stories, she sitting on his knee with her arms about 
 his neck, or laying her head on his shoulder like a weary child." 
 
 "I really expected to find a broad-chested, strong-minded 
 woman," he would say, "while I find only a pale anemone." 
 
 " Yes, you thought you were going to find an oak and I have 
 turned out only a poor weak vine after all. It is really a shame 
 ful overthrow of our grand dreams." 
 
 "Did you know, my darling, that many of our strongest men 
 actually died of homesickness?" 
 
 "It takes strength and courage to leave wife and home for 
 duty to one s country does it not?" said Annette. 
 
 "Yes, but it takes patience, and weary waiting, and faith 
 and hope, to keep the strong heart of woman from breaking un 
 der the fearful strain," he said. "I did not wonder that some 
 women followed their husbands, and became as daring as any of 
 our soldiers." 
 
 "Is that really so, Edward?" 
 "Quite so. Sometimes they had no other friends in the coun- 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 165 
 
 try, and separation was worse than death in prospect, and so they 
 went, either in disguise, or openly as was the case with Madam 
 Turchin. Her husband had been a staff officer during the Cri 
 mean war, on the staff of Alexander, the then Czarowitch of Rus- 
 eia. He had obtained leave of absence from the Russian army, 
 and was in Chicago when the war broke out, and he offered his 
 services to the state government and went out Colonel of the 
 19th Illinois. He was a competent and brave officer, and his 
 wife, who was of illustrious descent, always accompanied him on 
 his marches. He had been in northern Alabama and Georgia just 
 before the battle of Chickamauga and had really done the rebs 
 some harm. Some of the American officers, who thought this 
 was too much like war, instigated his arrest. He had been sent 
 on a reconnoi sauce to Chattanooga, and just as they were ready to 
 return was arrested. The Lieutenant Colonel was absent and 
 the command devolved on a subordinate. With little or no ex 
 perience in such movements, the regiment was returning through 
 the valley, with no pickets out. The watchful foe soon became 
 aware of this, and began firing down from the bluffs. Madam 
 was riding in the rear chatting with the surgeon, when she heard 
 the salute. Putting her white pony to its fullest speed, she was 
 soon at the head of the regiment and in command. Flankers 
 were at once thrown out and the brave woman led the regiment 
 back in safety. It was said that she understood military tactics 
 as well as her husband. Then finding that there was mischief 
 brewing, she went on to Washington, got her husband promoted 
 to the rank of Brigadier, which would take him out of the hands 
 of the court-martial, and returned in triumph to Chicago, just in 
 time to be present at a grand demonstration, and to publicly 
 present his commission to her distinguished hero. How would 
 you have liked to do that?" 
 
 "Far better than waiting and wearing myself out with fool 
 ish fears and vain longings. I should have been much stronger, 
 if like Madam Turchin I could have been near my husband. But 
 
166 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 our days of regret are over, our life work is before us. Its out 
 come must depend on our loyalty to truth, on our fidelity to 
 duty." 
 
 "Amen," whispered her husband reverently. 
 
 Here, in this little home, they set up the true altar. Life- 
 was a daily means of grace to themselves and to all who came 
 under their influence. Already a community of cultured men 
 and women had begun to grow up in the vicinity, characters of 
 high purpose were being developed, true religion and exalted 
 morality were walking hand in hand. Social life became charm 
 ing. They had their Shakespearean readings, their clubs for the 
 study of English literature, their Bible classes where Edward 
 Langdon read the lessons in Greek and gave them his own clear 
 and vigorous translations. 
 
 When political instruction was needed, on rare occasions he 
 was induced to take the place of speaker for the hour, and then 
 he was sure to astonish the people by his thorough mastery of all 
 the questions and issues involved. His wife was also recognized 
 as his true companion. She sometimes gratified the people 
 by a brilliant essay, or a rare poetn, or a keen bit of satire grace 
 fully pointed, but her best work for the community consisted in 
 giving young girls a sense of the dignity that belonged to the 
 true home. No slipshod work came from her hands wittingly. 
 She admitted the limitations of poor humanity, but strove to at 
 tain the true blending of easy home ways, with wise administra 
 tion of the means within her reach. One such woman will leaven 
 a large mass. Sometimes they were almost compelled to be 
 teachers, and occasionally they gave a winter to this work. 
 
 Children came, gladly and reverently greeted, and wisely 
 cared for. The mother was not obscured by the intellectual cul 
 ture of the woman. Children, in this rare community, were 
 counted as the heritage of the Lord, and much thought and care 
 were given to their training. This land was not an Eden, 
 the serpent was trailing its slime there as elsewhere, and the citi- 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 167 
 
 zens who felt the responsibility of keeping the paths straight for 
 their children, both men and women, united in a most determined 
 war of extermination, and at last it is reported that there is not 
 a license in their county, nor a tenant in their jail. If a bad 
 man can do much evil, a good man, especially if he has an earn 
 est wife, can do much good. 
 
 But such gardens are not long left to be merely the pride, 
 and to show the possibilities of the garden. The Langdons 
 were observed. The world needed them. His fine culture and 
 rare administrative abilities were found out, and in the full ma 
 turity of his manhood, he was called where he belongs, to take a 
 high place among the educators of the young men and women 
 who are to be the administrators of the assets which this gener 
 ation will leave. 
 
 It would be delightful to introduce this finely cultured fam 
 ily, as average specimens of what free institutions, and consistent 
 equality will do for humanity, but it is to be feared they are more 
 rare than we could wish. But we are sure that Prof. Langdon 
 and his excellent wife, and their well reared children, will do 
 much for the culture and advancement of those who come within 
 the scope of their influence, and it is much, when the possibilities 
 of humanity are clearly proven. They have not made the acqui 
 sition of wealth their goal, but have sought first the true King 
 dom of Heaven, and all necessary temporal blessings have been 
 added. May the number of such families increase in our land. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIY. 
 
 It is pitiful to follow the decadence of those who have once 
 given promise of usefulness, but our observations of lite would 
 be incomplete should such painful experiences be left out. Our 
 knowledge of the laws of human development are as yet too lim 
 ited to allow us to say with unerring certainty, how traits of 
 character lapse and then reappear. 
 
168 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 It is said that insanity will disappear from families for gen 
 erations, and then in the most mysterious manner again manifest 
 itself. So of the taste for alcoholic drinks. The great suffering 
 of some good woman, who has become the wife of a man who 
 inherited this fearful tendency, may be so strong that she may 
 save her sons from yielding to temptation; but in her grand-sons 
 this may appear with renewed force, even to the third and fourth 
 generation. When Phillipia Menloe married the Rev. Horace 
 Walworth, she did not think to inquire of the anteced 
 ents of his family. He came to her, the rare impersonation ot 
 manly beauty and piety combined. She had not seen young men 
 in their college career, and learned to discriminate between the 
 profound and the shallow. She accepted them at their own val 
 uation and that of the world at large. 
 
 She did not know that his grand-father had been a cider 
 drinker and a lover of cider brandy, and that his cellar was al 
 ways well stocked with such beverages, nor that his father had 
 been an early victim to tobacco and alcoholism. His mother and 
 tlder sister had gone from their old home that they might bring 
 up the boy in an atmosphere ot temperance and sobriety. His 
 early promise had been such that his poor old mother, old before 
 her time, had died believing him a brand plucked from the burn 
 ing, and his sister, now in the far west, rejoiced in his piety. He 
 might have been saved to honor and to a life of usefulness, had 
 it not been for the insidious influences emanating from his con 
 fidential adviser, Elder Turner, conjoining themselves to the 
 slumbering appetites too easily awakened in his own bosom. 
 
 It is often well that the truths that come to us are infant 
 truths, or they might overpower us at the first encounter. Slowly 
 diwned upon Phillipia the fact that her husband was already a 
 confirmed drunkard; that, though few suspected it, there were 
 days together when she had to keep him locked in the study that 
 lie might not betray himself, and in the meantime might become 
 sobered so that he could appear before a congregation on the 
 Sabbath without self-betrayal. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 169 
 
 She wrote his sermons for him, or revamped old ones, and 
 often accompanied him to the town where he was to preach as a 
 supply, taking her baby along, and amusing him and interesting 
 him, and attracting by her social qualities the good will of the 
 Church. Sometimes she sang in the Sunday school, and finally 
 it came to be quite a common thing to call on her to say a few 
 words to the children before singing, or to speak words of com 
 fort to mourners. She was sometimes troubled with scruples 
 about imposing her husband upon the world as a genuine man 
 and a Christian, but she used to say: "What knowest thou, O, 
 wife, but thou mayest save thy husband?" 
 
 During these terrible years she used often to implore her 
 husband to take the pledge and abstain from all use of liquors 
 that would intoxicate. He always readily complied. Then she 
 would breath easier after he had cheerfully done this, and offer 
 up prayers and thanksgiving for his salvation. But in a month 
 or two she would see signs of inebriety, and find patent medi 
 cines hidden away in the stable or under his lounge in the libra 
 ry, and another series of anguished pleadings would occur, and 
 another vain promise would be given. 
 
 She began to find their resources dwindling and at the same 
 time their wants increasing. What could be done? There was 
 occasionally a demand for a lecture before some literary society 
 for which she could get five or ten dollars and expenses, and she 
 turned her attention in this direction. The children were good 
 natured and healthy, and her sister Lilly was improving in health, 
 so that, with the aid of the eldest boy, she could get along a few 
 days at a time, and so, while there was no rain, there was dew. 
 Economies became pitiful, labor incessant, but they were not as 
 yet reduced to actual want. 
 
 In the meantime, the popularity of Mr. Walworth was by 
 no means increasing, and it began to be whispered about that he 
 was not what he seemed. She, the patient wife, sometimes felt 
 that if she could keep his shame covered, she could carry all the 
 
1TO PHILLIPIA, 
 
 other burdens uncomplainingly. But she saw that even this cup 
 could not pass from her. 
 
 At last a friend was suddenly called to California, and his 
 weekly paper must be conducted in his absence by some one who 
 would understand the local interests it represented. He called 
 on Phillipia as an old friend and asked her if she could under 
 take it for the sum of fifty dollars a month. Her heart bounded 
 with joy. It was like a fountain in the desert. She gladly be 
 gan her task, and her facile pen was conspicuously employed and 
 the talents evinced were recognized by the fraternity. Xow she 
 came in contact with a fuller line of general reading, and her at 
 tention was called to a pamphlet on hereditary traits. For the 
 first time she began to realize what she had unwittingly done. 
 Her beautiful children would hold in their own being the terrible 
 heritage of drunkenness. 
 
 O 
 
 What repair could she, and ten thousand other mothers, 
 make these innocent victims? How could the evil be blotted 
 out? How could the blood of atonement be applied for such 
 transgression? Day after day she thought, night after night she 
 pondered. It must be that there was some way, but how to find 
 it! " Man s extremity is God s opportunity." She heard of the 
 women s crusade. At last she began to see, that, as in war, there 
 must be a marshaling and ordering of the hosts, so in a great 
 moral warfare, there must be a banding together and a rallying 
 for action; and above all, they must not be afraid to take meas 
 ures against the enemy. 
 
 In this mood she wrote to Mrs. Langdon, w r hose friendship 
 had grown with years, and to whom, in some of her terrible 
 afflictions, she had written because there was no one near her to 
 whom she could speak of the sore trials that bore her soul to the 
 
 very earth. 
 
 "KocKLAND, June 8th, 1874. 
 
 "My Dear Mrs. Langdon: In certain straits and perils of 
 soul 1 instinctively turn to you, because of your large thought 
 and great freedom of expression which I so seldom find in women. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 171 
 
 And I trust yon know that I could go to no man for counsel, as 
 against what I feel to be the oppression and darkness of ages. 
 Men could not comprehend me, and their judgment would all be 
 from a man s standpoint, which, with few exceptions, means the 
 subordination, and, even the Church-sanctioned, subjection of 
 women. I used to accept it all meekly, and to say that women 
 who asked for equality before the law were unwomanly, even un 
 christian. In this I was as earnest as Paul when he persecuted 
 Christians, feeling that verily I was doing God s service. 
 
 "The opening up of the maternal fountains in my bosom 
 first led me to listen with some half protesting interest to the 
 cry of such women as Mrs. Camp, whom you will remember, arid 
 Mrs. Byrne. I felt that instinct of protection that even brute 
 mother-natures feel for their young, and I often repeated a verse 
 from that sweet poem of Margaret Chandler s, The Kingfisher/ 
 
 " 0, if such feelings of love have part, 
 In the warm depths of a. wood bird s heart, 
 What is the love of a mother s heart 
 With the seal of a deathless nature prest? 
 
 "But with the terrible revelations that came to me, the shat 
 tering of my idol, his betrayal of my interests, even to the home 
 my mother had given me, I began to see with anointed eyes. 
 But I had not yet seen the half I only saw men as trees walk 
 ing, Another and darker and deeper inferno has opened before 
 me. 
 
 "The world has done well to keep woman in ignorance of 
 science and theology, if it would hold her in subjection to unjust 
 and unequal laws. 1 have been reading a little, only a little, on 
 the subject of hereditary descent. It takes only a tew words, 
 sometimes, to unlock fearful secrets. This little pamphlet, of 
 only a lew pages, led me to question my husband as to his own 
 parentage. 1 learned that the family, some members of which 
 had been talented, had sunk into poverty and decay through 
 i hard drinking, as they used to call it. The women had been 
 strong, but uncultivated; the boys having ambitions were better 
 educated, so that they despised the women, and thought them lit 
 only to be their servants. Indeed, these traditions had been a* 
 law, and, What does a woman know? was a common expression 
 among Horace s uncles and cousins. They have a remembrance 
 among them of one woman who was beguiled into marrying one 
 of the uncles who professed to be temperate, and when he came 
 
172 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 home to her drunk, she went back to her mother and said she 
 had come to stay. The families felt that a separation would be a 
 disgrace. They met in council and almost commanded the 
 young woman to go back to her husband. She heard their petty 
 talk, and when they had finished she rose to her full height, and 
 lifting her right hand declared: God above knows that I will 
 never be the mother of a drunkard s children. 
 
 "ISTow, my dear friend, bear with me in my agony when I 
 say, this conviction, that my beautiful children inherit this fear 
 ful legacy, is almost driving me to madness. I cannot see which 
 way to turn. How can this taint, this terrible blood poison, be 
 eliminated from their being. They are so sweet, so docile, so 
 tender and loving, that it does not seem possible they can ever 
 be tempted and fall to the ignominious depths to which their 
 poor father has fallen. 
 
 "And yet, only the other day, I met an agonized mother, 
 who told me the story of her own sad suffering. Her husband 
 had never in his whole beautiful life, tasted a drop of intoxicat 
 ing liquors, but the son, most loving and tender as a child of all 
 her children, had become a constant drinker, and no promise, no 
 consideration of duty, no tenderness to wife or child could with 
 hold him. What was the key to this? His grand-father, on the 
 father s side, was a confirmed drunkard, and the serpent of alco 
 holism had fastened his fangs in the heart of this lovely spirited 
 boy, and was dragging him down to destruction ; and not only 
 this, he was transmitting the curse to future generations. I re 
 called the fearful group, the Laocoon the serpent infolding the 
 father and his sons. And can I hope for anything better for my 
 own children ? The misery of all this thought is enhanced by 
 the remembrance that I did not realize the wrong I was doing, 
 even after I knew of the fatal appetite; for the world and the 
 Church would have said all his shortcomings were due to my un- 
 wifely conduct, had I insisted, as I now see I ought, I will not 
 be the mother of a drunkard s children. I have now five boys 
 and two girls, and though I am absolutely the sole provider for 
 my household, my boys being in school, and have to keep my 
 husband well clothed and respectable in outward seeming, yet all 
 the legal power is in his hand. I cannot even vote in town meet 
 ings to help elect a board that will enforce the fairly good laws 
 that now exist. I do not complain that my work is never done, 
 and that the unequal wages of women renders my labors more 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 173 
 
 hard and unreasonable than they should be, but I do complain 
 that, with all my efforts and all my vigilance, my husband will 
 find some means of intoxication every week of his life. And 
 then, my beautiful boys, my darling girls ! What can we do ? 
 How can we provide against the pestilence that walketh by 
 night, and the destruction that wasteth at noonday. 
 
 " Cannot women see their danger, and band together for a 
 grand work of regeneration ? I have thought and pondered why 
 the great men who aided in the reconstruction of our govern 
 ment after the rebellion should not have given the ballot to wo 
 men at the same time they conferred it on the men of African 
 descent. Surely, we need it as much for our protection against 
 bad laws and evil customs, as they to protect themselves against 
 the oppression of ages. Without it how can we protect our 
 children and shield them from inherited evils? 
 
 "I do not so much ask what is to be the outcome of my own 
 blighted and betrayed life, as how we can save our dear children, 
 our invaded homes from this destroyer of our race. 
 
 "Can we hope that this new crusade for the rescue, not of 
 an empty sepulcher, but of living souls, may lead to some com 
 bined demand for the sure guarantee of our rights? 
 
 "You, whose life has been so strong and grand, who have 
 never had cause to blush for your husband, nor have experienced 
 a wrong in your own person, can, it seems to me, see through 
 your clearer atmosphere the true strategic point from which we 
 can move upon the destroyer. 
 
 " Your ever trusting friend, 
 
 " PHILLIPIA WALWORTH." 
 
 CHAPTEK XXV. 
 
 "HAPPY REST, June 18th, 1874. 
 "My Dear Mrs. Wai-worth: 
 
 " Your letter, so full of the agony that is breaking many 
 hearts all over the world, has just reached me. I trust that 
 what I shall say will not hurt a heart already so sorely bruised 
 that even the touch of tenderness must inflict the keenest pangs. 
 
 "I have never had occasion to blush for my husband, as you 
 truly say, nor to ehrink from even unexpressed injustice, for he 
 always feels that the woman s cause is man s, and labors just as 
 
174: THILLIPIA, 
 
 earnestly for her advancement as for man s. Nothing irritates 
 him like the patronizing way in which some men, even gentle- 
 men, speak of women, as though human rights were their s to 
 bestow. lie says men have been unconscious usurpers, and the 
 smallest justice they can now do to women is to step aside and 
 let them use their rights just as freely as men use their s. The 
 ballot, which is man s guaranty for his equal relations with all 
 other men, before the law, seems such a simple, and yet wise ad 
 justment, that even the frailest woman could, through its use, 
 give expression to her moral convictions on all questions involv 
 ing her right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness: and 
 he can see no reason, either on the score of equity or propriety, 
 why she should not have the same assurance from man that he 
 claims for himself from others. 
 
 "You see how easy it has been for the wives of such men as 
 my husband to openly declare for equal suffrage for women, and 
 the result has been that most ol our earnest advocates are women 
 who have felt no personal injustice, and our plea is made, as you 
 say, from our clearer atmosphere, where we look out upon wrong 
 and injustice with a sort of impersonal judgment. From this 
 standpoint we see how jealous the Great Father is of the rights 
 of even the humblest. The wrong to the slave cost the blood 
 and treasure of a generation; the wrong in withholding the bal 
 lot from woman is costing more blood and more treasure than 
 even this fratricidal war. The fight of to-day is not with an 
 enemy massed over against us, but with an enemy abiding in our 
 midst, meeting us hand to hand in the daily walks of life. Go 
 into our great cities, and walk along our streets, and count the 
 liquor dealers signs, and estimate the amount of misery this 
 traffic must produce. Go into our prisons and inquire how many 
 crimes are the direct result of the use of alcoholic or vinous bev 
 erages. Go into our courts and find how large a proportion of 
 quarrels and bankruptcies are the outgrowth of this traffic, 
 licensed by the government and upheld by the sentiment and 
 votes of men. Go into our halls of legislation, and look behind 
 screens and watch the lobby doors, and see how many of the 
 State houses are free from this taint of corruption. Go into our 
 National capitol, and investigate the saloon question there, where 
 the member can step from his seat in the House or the Senate 
 chamber into the bar, and the bartender can tell the tipple that 
 men drink, from the popular candidate for the Presidency down 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 175 
 
 to the Delegates from some new Territory. Consult statistical 
 ivturns, and find that the sum of money that passes over the 
 counters of liquor sellers for drams consumed on the spot, 
 amounts to about $900,000,000 annually, this largely growing 
 out of the fact that the vote is denied to women, and it would 
 seem apparent that the dullest female mind must be stirred to a 
 sense of responsibility by such a showing. Then count the an 
 nual deaths from alcoholism. But this is only one aspect of the 
 question. Inferiority has been branded on women for ages. The 
 means for mental discipline and physical culture have been large 
 ly withheld, and their wages have been conspicuously inferior to 
 those of men, even for equal or better labor. This holds woman 
 where she can seldom attain to pecuniary independence, but 
 must be in some sense a dependent on men s bounty, and that, 
 when the men who should have been the husbands and protec 
 tors are sleeping in graves far away, and the home was never 
 built, the fire never lighted on the hearth, the children never 
 born to become the joy and stay of their declining years. 
 
 "Then, when, through ill-paid labor and the want of motive 
 for independent business, financial troubles come and the name 
 less temptations that degrade and defile, the natural desire tor 
 companionship becomes a strong ally in this ever-growing ten 
 dency to set aside the high claims of family life, for the merest 
 counterfeit of conjugal relations. 
 
 "To me it seems that the woman s side of all human condi 
 tions, from the first simple compact of marriage, up to the com 
 bined interests of millions in one grand unity for common de 
 fence against foes within and without and for the general welfare, 
 needs the tender, wise nurture of motherhood, just as truly as 
 the ceaseless labors of fatherhood, that no care may be neglected, 
 no duty forgotten or overlooked. It is on these broad grounds 
 that I plead the right of equal suffrage for woman with man, 
 and her obligation to insist on it, and, when obtained, to exercise 
 it in the fear of God. 
 
 "I know the religious scruples that hinder many; but these 
 will vanish before the clear light of the Gospel, interpreted by 
 the deeds of Christ, and the clearer understanding of the words 
 of Paul, so often turned as a key in a lock to hold us in restraint. 
 Read the third chapter of Gallatians, and see where Paul places 
 us. Remember we are Gentiles, and were never under the law : 
 * There is neither Jew nor Greek, neither bond nor free, there is 
 
176 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 neither male nor female; for ye are all one in Christ Jesus. Our 
 government has fulfilled the two first conditions, and the third 
 must yet surely follow. My dear friend, I wish I could do more 
 for your present consolation, but your hope, and that of a multi 
 tude of others, must lie within the possibilities of constitutional 
 prohibition, righteously enforced. When for a few generations 
 this destroyer shall have been banished from the earth, we may 
 hope that the temptations of appetite will have passed away. 
 
 u God torgive the women who are not willing to aid in this 
 regeneration of the morally enslaved, and who would rivet the 
 chains of bondage rather than unloose them. 
 
 "By the sacred love of the mother for her children; by her 
 need of a home that is inviolate; by that instinct that tramples 
 on fear, that fights all obstacles however great, that cannot be 
 sneered down nor laughed out of countenance, women who have 
 in them any true nobility and true womanliness will yet press 
 their way to the sacred throne ol citizenship and cry out in the 
 ears of pride and injustice and greed and power, I am an Amer 
 ican citizen. 
 
 "If in your personal struggles my husband and I can aid 
 you or yours, you have only to intimate the direction, and we 
 shall gladly corne to your rescue. 
 
 "A letter just received from my old friend Mrs. Harlan, of 
 Auburndell, informs me of the sudden death, from apoplexy, of 
 your old Elder Turner; also that his oldest son is exceeding his 
 father in his liberal patronage ot the saloon, while the other sons 
 are not far behind. The people of that community are making 
 a brave struggle for local option, which some men declare will 
 be the ruin of the town a ruin in which good citizens will 
 glory. 
 
 "And now, my dear friend, let me say that however dark 
 our way may seem, we may be sure that with Right there is ul 
 timate success. She may stand discrowned to-day, but in due 
 succession she will come to her throne and rule through her 
 generation. The day of redemption came to the enslaved, and 
 now it seems to me that we may lift up our heads and declare, 
 1 This is ivomarfs hour. 1 
 
 " Your ever devoted friend, 
 
 " ANNETTE WILSON LANGDON." 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 177 
 
 " KOCKLAND, Oct. 20tk, lS8l 
 
 "My Dear Old Chum : 
 
 "I hope in your advancement in the world you have not 
 
 frown too proud to think of the friends you knew in humbler 
 ays. They tell me that you are a genuine success; but for my 
 part I can t make it out. I was a better looking man and had a 
 better voice than you, and I was immensely popular for years. 
 Then my wife was a beauty, and she knew a woman .s place, and 
 loved me even to the ground I walked on. But now all is changed. 
 She who used to be only a clinging vine has turned out after all 
 I said to be an oak, and she is really worse than your wife used 
 to be during the war. She goes on the platform without a blush, 
 and talks the strangest nonsense you ever heard, and people listen 
 to her as though it was something wonderful. But you know it 
 is a shame tor a woman to speak in public, and I try to keep her 
 at home and make her attend to her duties as a wife and mother, 
 but to no purpose. She says that as she has to earn the living 
 for ten people she ought to have her own way about it, and I find 
 it hard to control her though you know I ought to and she ought 
 to obey. You see I am feeble, arid, as you will observe, my hand 
 shakes so I can hardly write. She objects to my buying patent 
 medicine enough to keep me comfortable on account of expense, 
 and yet, when I threatened to put the three oldest boys in the 
 factory, so they could earn something, she said: No, Horace, 
 they shall have a chance to make something of themselves, even 
 if I work my fingers to the bone, and she has well nigh done it. 
 The two oldest are in college, and the third, the Angel, as 
 his Aunt Lilly calls him, is to go to a school of technology as 
 soon as he can be spared. These foolish women stinge, and screw, 
 and scrape, and as I say to my wife, screech to pamper those 
 great lubberly boys who ought to be working for the support of 
 their invalid father. I must say they are good boys, and splendid 
 looking to boot, and they stand A No. 1 in all their classes. You 
 see Phillipia and Lilly have had them study at home every spare 
 minute. 
 
 "These women seem only to think of the children. And my 
 lovely Nelly, who is just as beautiful as her mother, is studying 
 music with her Aunt Lilly, and I ll warrant there will be a con 
 spiracy to send her to the conservatory in Boston next year. 
 Goodness only knows where all the money for this extravagance 
 comes from, but you may be sure my allowance is short enough. 
 
178 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 I do not like tor complain to you, but I do think such women as 
 your wife have done us poor husbands a world of injustice, 
 especially by insisting on women s voting. Here in Yermont 
 the women can vote in school matters, and Lilly and Phillipia 
 
 fot all the women to turn out and choose a new school board, 
 hey said the other had not paid enough attention to the manners 
 and habits of teachers. One winter the master chewed and 
 smoked, arid, the next he drank hard cider once in a while, and 
 these foolish women helped elect a teetotaler, and he got in a 
 teacher that believes in introducing Physiology and Hygiene and 
 Temperance into schools and training up a lot of prigs that 
 would die before they would drink a glass of liquor. In fact, 
 when one of my boys was sick and I proposed some French 
 brandy, Phillipia said, No, Horace, I would be happy in his 
 death in preference to having him learn to drink 
 
 " We had trouble enough with the Good Templars and the 
 Sons, all teaching Cushing s Manual till the women could preside 
 at a meeting as well as the vice-president himself, but the 
 W. C. T. U. takes the lead in all modern folly. While I write 
 my wife is oft lecturing for this crazy organization. I shouldn t 
 m ind it so much it they half paid their lecturers, though with 
 her newspaper scribblings she manages to make a living for us. 
 " Once she actually took her baby, six months old, and went 
 to Boston to see if she couldn t get a chance to write for some of 
 the papers, and the joke of it was, that after hanging around for 
 a week, boarding at some woman s home, she found a chance to 
 write and get seventy-five dollars a month. 1 never saw a dollar 
 of that money, only as it was doled out to me in clothes and 
 daily rations. That is bringing us about where the women used to 
 be, only if I had a chance to spend some of this money I could 
 save out of it enough to be able to throw a half dime into the 
 missionary box or somewhere else. It comes pretty hard on a 
 man to be held in leading strings, but I have good hopes in the 
 time to come. The National Brewer s Association are up and 
 doing. I see that they have passed a good, wholesome resolution 
 to this effect: Resolved, That we oppose always and everywhere 
 the ballot in the hands of women; for woman s vote is the last 
 hope in the hands of the Prohibitionists. You see, men have 
 the power and they will not be such fools, unless it should be 
 some miserable fanatics like you, as to give it to women who will 
 not know any better than to beggar the country by cutting it 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 179 
 
 main artery of traffic. But I am cautious of expressing these 
 opinions openly. 
 
 " Only the other day I heard Phillipia repeating some non- 
 sonse about Home Protection. I think it was this: Set over 
 against the appetite of the drinker and the avarice of the saloon 
 keeper, the undying mother love of the home. I suppose you 
 will see some meaning to it, but I call it mere jargon. 
 
 " Your old chum, 
 
 " HOKACE WAL WORTH." 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVI. 
 
 This poor maudlin letter of Horace Walworth s but feebly 
 indicates the struggle of his brave wife to hold herself and family 
 to the better condition to which she and they of right belonged. 
 The home had been secured to Lilly, and she with true sisterly 
 unselfishness shared all with her sister s family, never even hint 
 ing that her own comfort was too little considered. 
 
 The children were all interesting, which was fortunate, for 
 it is easier to love and care for the lovely than the unlovely. 
 Their bright, curling hair, their delicate complexions, their grace 
 ful forms, were such sources of pride to the lonely-hearted 
 aunt that her care of them was a delight, even while it was some 
 times a weariness. She, by her very feebleness, developed in 
 them the tenderest consideration, and the boys early learned to 
 look after the many little matters their self-indulgent father in 
 his best days everlooked. Aunt Lilly and mother must never 
 draw a pail of water or lift a stick of wood. All the household 
 cares that they could lighten they insisted on doing, and their 
 merry ringing laugh filled the old home with cheerfulness. 
 
 The mother was more firm and vigilant than she would have 
 been under more fortunate circumstances, but she was never fret 
 ful or impatient. Obedience to her slightest wish became a law 
 as soon as they were old enough to comprehend a command and 
 the reason for it, which she always gave when it could be under 
 stood. 
 
180 PHILLIPIA, 
 
 As to the poor father, he was regarded as a confirmed invalid, 
 which his early whitening hair and his trembling hands and tot 
 tering gait before he was more than fifty years of age fully con 
 firmed. They were taught to treat him with tenderness and 
 reverence, but they early read the pitiful weakness of his nature, 
 and silently accepted his utter uselessness and want of authority. 
 
 During the years that followed her full recognition of her 
 husband s hopeless condition, Phillipia often found herself in 
 pitiful straits to keep her family in comfort. She sat up till past 
 midnight washing and ironing and mending the single suit of 
 clothes that each child possessed, so that they should not seem 
 untidy and shabby at school. They must not suffer want of 
 self-respect from such causes. 
 
 As little openings came for lectures she would carefully pro 
 vide against any unusual labor for her sister by her own extra 
 efforts, and when she came home her best garments were at once 
 laid aside, and her hands were busy with the heaviest cares of the 
 household. 
 
 Often when preparing a lecture or an essay, Lilly read up 
 authorities while Fhillipia s hands were busy at the washtub or 
 the ironing-board, and this intellectual life made her forget the 
 drudgery of labor. Her finest and most helpful thoughts were 
 often mentally arranged while her hands were busy with the 
 hardest labors. Gradually her mind became more perfectly dis 
 ciplined, and orderly thoughts sprang readily to her lips or found 
 expression on paper. Her too meager early discipline was now 
 supplemented by purposeful study that her sister shared, so that 
 the elder boys might be helped at home in their education. 
 
 Sometimes she tried to interest her husband in teaching them 
 Latin and Greek, but he had no desire to return to those studies. 
 He used to reply, he had put away childish things. But she had 
 the books, and with a little aid from her pastor or the young 
 doctor who had just come fresh from the University, she got 
 them well under way. 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 181 
 
 But the world was not standing idle, especially the woman s 
 world. The example of Oberlin had been widely followed. The 
 liberal education of women had become an assured fact, not only 
 in America, but in England. The Blue Stocking and the strong 
 minded woman were no longer the scarecrows with which to 
 frighten young girls into smothering at birth all intellectual 
 aspirations. The mind and soul of womanhood were getting 
 leave to expand. 
 
 Then came a thought to some grand women to hold a 
 Woman s Congress, to discuss great questions. Some sneered, 
 but those who witnessed its inauguration saw in it much hope for 
 the future. The subjects proposed lor discussion, the manner of 
 treatment, the clear understanding of principles, astonished 
 many who had looked down with patronizing toleration upon the 
 mental inferiority of the "weaker sex." These women had 
 minds, and these minds had received a good degree of discipline 
 which told upon character just as thoroughly as upon the char 
 acters of men. 
 
 Now, ante-dating this, had been the claim made for the 
 equal rights of women, under a government "of the people, for 
 the people, and by the people," and in the midst of the grand 
 demonstration at Cleveland, when the American "Woman s Suf 
 frage Association was formed, had come a message from the far 
 distant Territory of Wyoming that the women there had been 
 enfranchised. 
 
 Thus, as in the an ti -slavery cause, the hand of Providence 
 had moved in regular sequence over the dial of time. Probabili 
 ties were demonstrated. 
 
 Education had proved the full humanity of the negro, so it 
 had also proved the full humanity of woman, and God calls for 
 our best. 
 
 Following this development of the colored man had come 
 the call to show his interest in the rights of himself and family 
 by standing shoulder to shoulder with white men for the sal- 
 
182 PHILLIP! A, 
 
 vation of the government. Then came the day when it was 
 found necessary that the whole government should afford the 
 fullest guaranties for civil rights. This was accorded, and the 
 negro walked forth unshackled in all the dignity of American 
 citizenship. 
 
 Through all the period of war and attempted disunion, the 
 loyal women of the North had stood faithfully by the govern 
 ment, showing an intellectual fitness and a capacity for strategic 
 military movements not inferior to the stronger sex, while in 
 sweet charity and unselfish devotion they surely equalled if they 
 did not surpass their brothers. But they were told they had no 
 need of any part in the government, and had shown no interest in 
 public affairs, and hence it would be unwise to suffer them to en 
 joy the rights of citizens. Now, while some have meekly accept 
 ed this, and are even now busy riveting manacles for their own 
 wrists and putting them on their daughters as ornaments for the 
 admiration of men, all are not so ready to accept this pretty 
 patronage. 
 
 The Woman s Crusade that sprang up at the cry of agonized 
 womanhood conscious that help must come from God, since vain 
 was the help of man, led the way to the formation of the 
 Woman s Christian Temperance Union, which has by sure ad 
 vances reached the central thought, that woman having an undy 
 ing soul, has also infinite responsibilities that she cannot lay 
 down but at the peril of immortal interests. 
 
 To her belongs in no small measure the ordering of the 
 household and the moral education of her children. And this 
 responsibility must crystalize into law, and that law must extend, 
 not only through the narrow limits of home and family, but it 
 must become part and parcel of the state. The home, the vital 
 point must be protected. 
 
 This has led the hundred thousand women banded together 
 in this mighty warfare with the giant crime of to-day to openly 
 demand the ballot, that they may protect their offspring from 
 
A WOMAN S QUESTION. 183 
 
 the snares that are laid for unwary feet, and purge the state of 
 its crime of sanctioning by license the traffic that destroys soul 
 and body. 
 
 Some have foolishly said that the believers in woman s suf 
 frage seek to cloak themselves under the mantle of temperance, 
 but they forget that the whole is greater than any one of its 
 parts. Suffrage means equality before the law, i. e., justice and 
 equity in all relations that may come under the regulation of 
 law. 
 
 It does not seek to make a woman masculine, nor a man 
 feminine. It seeks only the perfection of each, and the true con 
 jugal relations of the man and woman in all the varied departments 
 of life, like the right hand and the left, like the right heart and 
 its complement, both moved to their several offices by one great 
 impulse. 
 
 Thanks to the growth of these thoughts, it has become pos 
 sible for Phillipia and her sons, two of them now grown to noble 
 manhood, to find work for hand and brain as teachers and lectur 
 ers and writers, so that "no want comes nigh their dwelling," 
 and with a multitude greater than any man knows to push for 
 ward the movement for the true enfranchisement of woman, soon 
 to become a fact in the history of the human race, to be accom 
 plished 
 
 " As the energy sublime, 
 Of a century, bursts full blossomed on the thorny stem of time." 
 
 

 
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