Woman must be admitted on equal terms to participation in all
activities of modern society, or she must occupy an ever-narrowing
sphere that will crowd her at last to the soft couch of voluptuous
idleness, where Roman splendor waned and Grecian greatness died.
Do you say that woman's sphere is in the home? Because I so believe I
am intensely concerned that she shall find no barred doors anywhere
that open to knowledge and power which will make her more competent in
her paramount task of motherhood. For the sake of the future we must
not consent to send woman into the social arena short of being fully
armed.
Woman is to-day following the unerring sex instinct that warns her to
keep always by the side of her mate. Her cry for political freedom is a
plea for and a movement toward a fuller understanding, a more blessed
helpfulness, between husband and wife, mother and son, male and female.
_Those who grow not together, grow apart._
I have seen towering trees fall before the joined cuttings of two
axe-men who, working together, with blow following blow, hewed to the
heart of the monarch of the forest. I have seen a giant workman laying
the bricks of a city pavement, with his left and right hands toiling in
perfect unison and with almost incredible rapidity. In the crash of a
great line drive on the gridiron I have felt the swaying of the human
mass in deadlock, and then the impact of the reserve from the back
field that has destroyed the balance and forced the ball over the line.
Just as the tree falls slowly before the attack of a single axe-man,
just as the paving waits on a "one-handed" layer of bricks, just as the
gridiron struggle remains undecided until it has felt the drive of the
reserve back, so society waits to-day on the fulness of the strength of
womanhood.
For the times that are to come with the close of the war we must now
prepare; for the reforms that will be possible then, for that mighty
new dispensation of social justice, we must doubly arm ourselves.
No resources of power available for the world programme of peace,
sobriety, economic freedom, and democracy, dare be overlooked. Hear the
female ultimatum to the race: _a drag or a lift, a plaything or a mate,
a parasite or a partner_.
CHAPTER XI
_THE FIRST CROIX DE GUERRE_
A sentinel barred our way. "Can't take the 'bus' in for half an hour
yet." Barnes turned to me, and said, "Shall we walk or wait?" We left
the car for the driver to bring up when the failing light would make
his journey safer, and hiked up the road.
We had been stopped at the edge of the woods between the third and
second lines, half a mile from a little village that marked the point
within the second line which was our immediate destination. Machines
were not allowed beyond the cover of the trees before dark. A few yards
above the sentinel who had challenged us the road came under the eye of
German observers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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