Where shall we begin? Shall the old woman be pictured as Adam’s partner in the garden, tempting him to eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge, or, shall we think of her as in the days of Egyptian splendor, of Grecian glory, of Roman rule, or shall we look at her as she lived in the feudal ages in England, France and Germany?

Or could we not better describe and hold up for contrast our own grandmothers of America’s colonial days?

We know that in every age, in every country, among all peoples there have been those who might properly be designated new women. Cleopatra stands out in bold relief from the history of Egypt; Sappho dared to sing in Greece, when the other noted bards of the times were men; Portia pleaded for justice before the Roman bar; the queens of later years—all those who have assumed and performed the duties supposed to belong to men alone, belong to that at present much talked about speciment of the genus homo—the new woman. But leaving out these illustrious personages, where do we get our ideas of the old woman? What are some of her characteristics? The novels of a country are said by some, to afford the truest descriptions of the men and women of the day in which they are written.

Be this as it may, what ideas do we obtain from the descriptions of our grandmothers? I could quote at length from some of our noted fiction writers, but suffice it to say they give us the impression that the women of fifty or one hundred years ago belong to the ivy family.

The characters held up to us for our emulation, spent a great deal of time reclining on the sofa, either reading poetry, or exhibiting the frail structure of her fingers with the execution of wonderful embroidery. Her nerves were of the most sensitive type, a mouse could frighten her into convulsions, and she had a remarkable tendency to faint on any or all occasions.

Further, this old woman was supposed to be duly shocked whenever she heard of one of her sister women stepping outside the metes and bounds of custom. Mind you, I do not say that this is a correct delineation of our grandmothers, in fact I deny that it is true, but this is the manner in which our would-be teachers, the novelists, have written, and have pretended to desire that all women should copy from that pattern. Students of history know that it was not from that class of women we obtained the brain and brawn of the present century. Let it pass. What will the readers of the future understand by the term the new woman?

Do we not know that caricature is deplorably prevalent? Read our newspapers and magazines. The new woman is generally pictured as a being aping the costumes of men, and possessing all the vices of the male roué. Loud-voiced, coarse, a creature who might be described in Poe’s words, as neither man nor woman—neither beast nor human. But this picture is no truer than that which represents our grandmothers as helpless nonentities. Wek now something of the law of heredity. We know that every present is the product of all the past. We know that today we are building for the future. Knowing this what can we say of the real new woman?

She cannot be called the coming woman, for she is already here, if not in large numbers at least enough of her to attract considerable attention. She has inherited the sturdy independence of her ancestors, and she asserts it by dressing as she chooses, by traveling alone if necessary, by educating herself for any and all positions, by entering upon and following any and all professions, and by declaring herself an individual, willing to rely upon her own merits, and to be responsible for her own failings. She says, in substance: I am here. I am a part of the universe. It is my duty as well as my privilege and pleasure to develop my own personality. I am no longer a slave to the ideas of the past—no longer subservient to the will of a master, losing my identity because of the accident of sex.

The new woman does not, as some would have us believe, seek to supercede man in [3] business, in government. Not so. She says: Not above nor beyond you, my brother, but side by side. Keeping step with you in the march of progress, sharing the responsibilities of life, and participating in its rewards.

She does not, as our traducers claim, seek to evade the cares of motherhood. Ah, no. The true new woman thus declares: I claim the right to such conditions as shall develop to its utmost extent my physical form. I demand the right to the highest and best mental culture, that I may be enabled to become capable of giving to the world improved specimens of humanity.

And will this type of the new woman have nothing to say as to a mate?

She cannot, with her knowledge of natural law, be careless in this matter.

Can you not perceive that this new woman is to be the emancipator of the race? That is demanding intelligence, character and health in the father of her children, she is destined to revolutionize the world?

No more will beings enter the world as mere accidents of lust, bearing upon their bodies and brains the stamp of ignorance. No more will society be cursed and endangered by hordes of vicious beings, victims of a licentious parentage. The world is to grow better and better. We are to reach higher and yet higher planes of intelligence, and woman is destined to lead the way.

We accord all due deference to the women of the past—the mothers of us all, but it is to the mothers of the future we look with hope and trust. The new woman will hitch her chariot to a star, and carry upward and onward the glorious cause of human freedom. Her harp shall be attuned to the music of the spheres and all will join in the grand song of the redemption of the human race, and its final triumph in happiness and love.

Myra Pepper