discovered that in the discontent of woman lies the impulse to overcome her inertia. Impelled by this in pulse she has inaugurated a tremendous revolt against unwritten laws, laws of customs, restrictions, environments, laws which neither say "thou shalt," nor "thou shalt not," laws which operate like a hypnotic trance, the subject being unconscious of individual ability or power, laws which cannot be corn piled in statute books any more than can the laws of influence.
This revolt implies no usurpation. Woman cannot fill man's place any better than man can fill woman's place. It is not even necessary for her to establish an ability to do the same kind of work that man has done.
The two distinct forces, the centripetal and centrifugal, acting together, produce a resultant which is described by a perfect circle. The predominance or usurpation of either force would annihilate the universe. Each supplements the other, performs what the other could not do—-each complements the other, supplies that, without which neither would be complete.
In seating a public hall, checks are sometimes duplicated. No such blunders occur in issuing of checks for our appointed spheres in life. Each is to fill a place which some one else is not filling, or which may be reserved by legitimate competition. Nor does this revolt imply a commotion and turmoil. The silent force of gravity moves more machinery than all the earthquakes and volcanic eruptions combined. So woman's fitness and ability is a surer force to persuade men to seek her will, than mandates and decrees.
This revolt is manifested in a widespread and unanimous desire, not for the agitation of woman's rights, not for the hastening of woman's suffrage, not for the adoption of dress reform, nor any other specialty but a universal desire for facilities for generating thought, methods for strengthening force, abilities to form opinions, opportunities for expressing opinions, glimpses of social, economic and ethical questions which exist within the broader horizon of man's life, development of faculties which would otherwise remain dormant, directing reading into useful channels, filling gaps and strengthening weak places in education.
The success and impetus of this craving for a larger life, broader culture and its influence upon woman has exceeded the most sanguine hopes.
Women to-day have many fold more responsibilities than their grandmothers, and I know the placid old ladies by the fireside, in snowy caps and sober garb, would second the motion to grant different and greater preparation to meet and discharge these increased responsibilities.
This desire is both the cause and the solution of the uprising, called Woman's Clubs. It has been gathering force for a long time. It has suddenly and spontaneously burst into bloom like a century plant. But the plant that has waited a hundred years for its life's fulfillment, is as truly a symbol of growth as the morning glory which expands its petals to greet the dawn, and that which is attained by the slower process of years is more lasting than the iridescent dream of a night.
Its growth was characterized by a quiescence like that of the chrysalis during the formative period of that life which, when sufficiently matured, bursts its cell and enters a new atmosphere, fresh, keen, and full of sunlight.
As sunlight kills many noxious germs, so the atmosphere of this club-life destroys the germs of ignorance, narrowness, over-sensitiveness, lack of self-confidence, sentimentality; it disintegrates cliques and classes, it melts the cold reserve of formality, it thaws the ice of indifference, and prejudices pall into nothingness. It has been demanded by an inward force, and enthusiastic, womanly ambition, that womankind might be transferred into a broader life. That by utilizing the helpful agents of common aims, voluntary co-operation, and the strength of union, they might secure a better understanding of their duties.
Woman is not losing thereby her sweetness and gentleness, she is losing lines of anxiety and care from her face. In the glorious sunshine of a broader world, she forgets her wail of discontent to join the refrain, "Who labors alone wears the crown."
From the first, Women's Clubs have differed in aim and utility from those for men, to whom they signify a place for rest, ease or recreation; for women they imply a source of inspiration, a place for work. They make women better talkers, better listeners, better hostesses, better guests, better companions. better mothers. They make no one discontented, except in a noble way in which it is an honor to feel discontent. She whose mind is broadened by contact with the world, knows better how to keep the wheels of her domestic machinery oiled, than the woman who never goes outside the round of daily duties. She learns to manage her household with the same kind of business sagacity that her husband uses in his calling.
The club movement which is the new woman's exponent is a sign of progress, because it is an effort to satisfy wants. A savage, having nothing, is perfectly content so long as he wants nothing. The first step toward civilization is to create a want, and the effort made to satisfy that want is the measure of progress. The evidence of intellectual progress is not in the fact that a man has a library. but that he wants one. In the wonderful leveling
