penalty, without perplexing themselves about the law.  The demand of every enlightened woman who asks for the ballot—­like the demand of every enlightened slave for freedom—­is an individual demand; and the question whether they represent the majority of their class has nothing to do with it.  For a republic like ours does not profess to deal with classes, but with individuals; since “the whole people covenants with each citizen, and each citizen with the whole people, for the common good,” as the constitution of Massachusetts says.

And, fortunately, there is such power in an individual demand that it appeals to thousands whom no abstract right touches.  Five minutes with Frederick Douglass settled the question, for any thoughtful person, of that man’s right to freedom.  Let any woman of position desire to enter what is called “the lecture-field,” to support herself and her children, and at once all abstract objections to women’s speaking in public disappear:  her friends may be never so hostile to “the cause,” but they espouse her individual cause; the most conservative clergyman subscribes for tickets, but begs that his name may not be mentioned.  They do not admit that women, as a class, should speak,—­not they; but for this individual woman they throng the hall.  Mrs. Dahlgren abhors politics:  a woman in Congress, a woman in the committee-room,—­what can be more objectionable?  But I observe that when Mrs. Dahlgren wishes to obtain more profit by her husband’s inventions all objections vanish:  she can appeal to Congressmen, she can address committees, she can, I hope, prevail.  The individual ranks first in our sympathy:  we do not wait to take the census of the “class.”  Make way for the individual, whether it be Mrs. Dahlgren pleading for the rights of property, or Lucy Stone pleading for the rights of the mother to her child.

DEFEATS BEFORE VICTORIES

After one of the early defeats in the War of the Rebellion, the commander of a Massachusetts regiment wrote home to his father:  “I wish people would not write us so many letters of condolence.  Our defeat seemed to trouble them much more than it troubles us.  Did people suppose there were to be no ups and downs?  We expect to lose plenty of battles, but we have enlisted for the war.”

It is just so with every successful reform.  While enemies and half-friends are proclaiming its defeats, those who advocate it are rejoicing that they have at last got an army into the field to be defeated.  Unless this war is to be an exception to all others, even the fact of having joined battle is a great deal.  It is the first step.  Defeat first; a good many defeats, if you please:  victory by and by.

William Wilberforce, writing to a friend in the year 1817, said, “I continue faithful to the measure of Parliamentary reform brought forward by Mr. Pitt.  I am firmly persuaded that at present a prodigious majority of the people of this country are adverse to the measure.  In my view, so far from being an objection to the discussion, this is rather a recommendation.”  In 1832 the reform bill was passed.