noiselessly, have washed away the opprobrium, the statute books of
thirty States have been remodeled, and woman stands, to-day, almost
face to face with her last claim--the ballot. It has been a weary
and thankless, though successful struggle. But if there be any
refuge from that ghastly curse, the vice of great cities, before
which social science stands palsied and dumb, it is in this more
equal recognition of women.

"If, in this critical battle for universal suffrage, our fathers'
noblest legacy to us and the greatest trust God leaves in our
hands, there be any weapon, which, once taken from the armory, will
make victory certain, it will be as it has been in art, literature,
and society, summoning woman into the political arena. The literary
class, until within half a dozen years, has taken no note of this
great uprising; only to fling every obstacle in its way.

"The first glimpse we get of Saxon blood in history is that line of
Tacitus in his 'Germany,' which reads, 'In all grave matters they
consult their women.' Years hence, when robust Saxon sense has
flung away Jewish superstition and Eastern prejudice, and put under
its foot fastidious scholarship and squeamish fashion, some second
Tacitus from the valley of the Mississippi will answer to him of
the Seven Hills: 'In all grave questions, we consult our women.'

"If the Alps, piled in cold and silence, be the emblem of
despotism, we joyfully take the ever restless ocean for ours, only
pure because never still. To be as good as our fathers, we must be
better. They silenced their fears and subdued their prejudices,
inaugurating free speech and equality with no precedent on the
file. Let us rise to their level, crush appetite, and prohibit