Miriams by the million, who sing best by singing most for their own sex.
They are demanding the right to help make the laws, or at least to help
enforce the laws upon which depends the welfare of their husbands, their
children, and themselves. Why should our selfish self longer remain deaf
to their cry? The date is no longer B.C. Might no longer makes right,
and in this fair land at least fear has ceased to kiss the iron heel of
wrong. Why then should we continue to demand woman's love and woman's
help while we recklessly promise as lover and candidate what we never
fulfill as husband and office-holder? In our secret heart our better
self is shamed and dishonored, and appeals from Philip drunk to Philip
sober, but has not yet the moral strength and courage to prosecute the
appeal. But the east is rosy and the sunlight cannot long be delayed.
Woman must not and will not be disheartened by a thousand denials or a
million of broken pledges. With the assurance of faith she prays, with
the certainty of inspiration she works, and with the patience of genius
she waits. At last she is becoming "as fair as the morn, as bright as
the sun, and as terrible as an army with banners" to those who march
under the black flag of oppression and wield the ruthless sword of
injustice.

In olden times it was the Amazons who conquered the invincibles, and we
must look now to their daughters to overcome our own allied armies of
evil and to save us from ourselves. She must and will succeed, for as
David sang--"God shall help her and that right early." When we try to
praise her later works it is as if we would pour incense upon the rose.
It is the proudest boast of many of us that we are "bound to her by
bonds dearer than freedom," and that we live in the reflected royalty
which shines from her brow. We rejoice with her that at last we begin to
know what John on Patmos meant--"And there appeared a great wonder in
Heaven, a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and