A long drawn sigh flattered from the trembling lips of Imelda while Margaret’s face glowed with excitement equaled only by that of the speaker. When the excitement which followed had abated somewhat, the presiding officer rose and again his strong, clear, but pleasant, voice was heard. Almost instantly the profoundest quiet reigned. His handsome face had caught something of the general excitement and he carelessly threw back the black locks that clustered about the open brow.
“Friends and comrades,” said he. “You have listened to the discourse of a noble woman, on a most important subject. A noble woman, because she dares to assert her womanhood; dares to assert the I. She dares to fly in the face of custom, in the face of power. She dares to point out where evils lie hidden. Dares to show you where the curse of poverty stalks; where its birth place is, side by side with that of vice and crime. She has pointed out glorious possibilities for those who may dare in the present to provide a way to secure the rightful inheritance of the many. And to judge by the applause you have accorded to her you have rightly understood and justly appreciated her. But notwithstanding this appreciation we know that not all our friends agree with our lecturer, and so, in accord with our custom we will now hear what others have to say. We invite you, one and all, to take part in this debate, and let us know what your views are. ‘Free discussion’ is our motto at these meetings.—”
The chairman resumed his seat and an expectant hush fell upon the assemblage. One, two minutes passed; then arose a gentleman upon whom the snows of many winters had fallen, to judge by hair and beard, but whose general appearance otherwise did not show old age. His business-like, “Mr. Chairman,” had a pleasant sound, while general attention was now directed toward him.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “courtesy would at any time demand of me that I treat ladies with the greatest respect, yet the lady who today has entertained us, and who has given us the benefit of her intelligence and knowledge of humanity, has not told us all the causes of the trouble. I must pay her the compliment to say that she understands how to handle her subject. I too have observed many instances of despairing young girls who sacrifice themselves by selling themselves for life, or for an hour, in order to obtain the means wherewith to make brighter the declining pathway of some loved one. I have known cases wherein the betrayed, outraged maiden had given her trusting love in vain, and was then driven to seek an untimely grave. In the homes of the wealthy it is a well known fact that love seldom enters. With environments which ought to bless the unborn generations decay and degeneracy is even more marked than among the poorer classes, since among the latter love does often take by the hand the maiden and lover to join them together, and, for a while at least, hovers over the pair. Often one child, and sometimes more, is the result of loving union. But where only sordid gain is the object of marriage the fruits must of necessity be of an inferior order. To my mind, this evil, this marriage evil, is the worst of all evils. Instead of the home being the birth place and cradle of love and truth and peace, it is the hot-bed, the breeding place of vice. The unwelcome child incarnates the germs of disease, of vice and crime. The dissatisfied mother implants in her offspring abnormal desires and passions because her own desires have been dwarfed and disregarded. Thus the enslaved mother sows the seeds of tyranny in her child. It matters not if such a home be one of plenty or want. One breeds the roue, the other the criminal of the future. I only wish to state here that so long as the people bow to an ‘unknown God’; a God who is supposed to rule somewhere up among the stars, in a place called heaven; a God who will punish those who have been truer to nature than to the impossible teachings of the church, by burning them in everlasting fire, and so long as the people sustain a state or government that holds them in bondage; a state to which they must pay tribute for every privilege they enjoy, even unto the privilege of choosing a mate; so long as the credulous people pay tribute to the parasites called politicians who fasten themselves wherever they can find a foothold, just so long must we continue to endure the evils portrayed by the last speaker. So long as labor is a slave to capital, so long as the workingman is but an irresponsible part of the machinery that produces wealth for the few, just so long will woman be a slave to man, and just so long will children be a curse instead of a blessing, and just so long will crime and disease stalk abroad. The workingman must first strike for and gain his freedom. Then the emancipation of woman will follow. I have nothing farther to say.”
Amid appreciative applause the man of many winters resumed his seat. Next arose a man with snapping black eyes and jetty hair who with cutting sarcasm dissected the lecture, telling his hearers that in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred all the poverty, the ill-luck, was due to the man or woman’s own fault. “The working people,” said he, “as a class, are lazy; they are extravagant; they are vicious. They would rather spend their leisure time in saloons, swilling beer and poor whiskey, and in playing cards, than with their families at home; they would rather lounge and loaf upon street corners than do an honest day’s work; they would rather follow a course that would lead them to steal, and even murder, and thereby get them into the penitentiary where they would be only too well treated. If it were not for the church who with her gentle and peace-diffusing influence keeps the working classes in a measure content, and under control, there would be no telling to what deeds of outrage the ignorant, licentious masses of people would go. Take away the influence of religion and what would be the result? Without fear of a god or devil, like a brutal horde of wild beasts with nothing to restrain them, they would fall to murdering and plundering everything and everyone that stood in their way, regardless of consequences, just so they could satisfy their ungovernable appetites.”
The only thing this man could think of that could be done was to make more laws; laws more stringent and binding. Then enforce them to the letter.
“We speak of loose morals,” said he. “Could there be anything more loose than the ideas of marriage that are fast becoming popular? There are almost as many divorces petitioned for and granted as marriages entered into. Divorces are too easily obtained. The laws are too lax. If such were not the case people would be more careful in entering the holy portals of marriage. But there are so few that any longer consider marriage as something holy that it is becoming a menace to the country. Again I ask for more laws. Let them be stringent and let them be rigidly enforced. Let those that are forming such contracts and entering into the bonds of marriage, understand that it is for life, that there is no escaping the consequences, and then people will get along better.”