She perhaps saw me smile.

"What matter of ridicule do you find in this, Miles Coverdale?"

exclaimed Zenobia, with a flash of anger in her eyes. "That smile,

permit me to say, makes me suspicious of a low tone of feeling and

shallow thought. It is my belief--yes, and my prophecy, should I die

before it happens--that, when my sex shall achieve its rights, there

will be ten eloquent women where there is now one eloquent man. Thus

far, no woman in the world has ever once spoken out her whole heart and

her whole mind. The mistrust and disapproval of the vast bulk of

society throttles us, as with two gigantic hands at our throats! We

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mumble a few weak words, and leave a thousand better ones unsaid. You

let us write a little, it is true, on a limited range of subjects. But

the pen is not for woman. Her power is too natural and immediate. It

is with the living voice alone that she can compel the world to

recognize the light of her intellect and the depth of her heart!"

Now,--though I could not well say so to Zenobia,--I had not smiled from

any unworthy estimate of woman, or in denial of the claims which she is

beginning to put forth. What amused and puzzled me was the fact, that

women, however intellectually superior, so seldom disquiet themselves

about the rights or wrongs of their sex, unless their own individual

affections chance to lie in idleness, or to be ill at ease. They are

not natural reformers, but become such by the pressure of exceptional

misfortune. I could measure Zenobia's inward trouble by the animosity

with which she now took up the general quarrel of woman against man.

"I will give you leave, Zenobia," replied I, "to fling your utmost

scorn upon me, if you ever hear me utter a sentiment unfavorable to the

widest liberty which woman has yet dreamed of. I would give her all

she asks, and add a great deal more, which she will not be the party to

demand, but which men, if they were generous and wise, would grant of

their own free motion. For instance, I should love dearly--for the

next thousand years, at least--to have all government devolve into the

hands of women. I hate to be ruled by my own sex; it excites my

jealousy, and wounds my pride. It is the iron sway of bodily force

which abases us, in our compelled submission. But how sweet the free,

generous courtesy with which I would kneel before a woman-ruler!"




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