Edward Burton

By six o’clock, on the evening of the same day, a lively group, engaged in animated conversation, were seated on the piazza of the handsome cottage of Edmund Bonbright. This imposing summer residence occupied one of those elevated, picturesque sites, which are so characteristic of the outlying portions of Bar Harbor, and commanded a prospect, at once rich, comprehensive, and varied. The cottage was of an irregular, rambling style of architecture, and its numerous gables, porches, and towers combined to give it a unique and romantic effect, even for this resort, where handsome summer residences are so numerous. A broad piazza extended around three sides of the house, but it was so broken by angles, screens, and vines, that it appeared more like a series of irregular vestibules and recesses. The gently sloping lawn was covered with a velvety green turf, relieved here and there by bright masses of color, which were made up of coleus, geraniums, and other bright flowers; while around the whole, there was a low, massive, cemented wall, covered with vining nasturtiums of plain and variegated colors. A concreted driveway turned in from the street, and describing a graceful curve through the lawn, passed under a spacious porte-cochère at the side of the house. A cosey covered lookout, upon the most elevated part of the roof, commanded a view almost unequalled on the whole Atlantic Coast. At one side, and a little to the rear of the cottage, was a tennis court, surrounded by a high netting, and still further back, was a commodious stable, stocked with a variety of sleek horse-flesh; also a carriage house, containing vehicles, suitable for various uses and occasions. A variety of hammocks, settees, and easy chairs were carelessly scattered about upon the piazza, and every detail of the establishment betokened taste, luxury, and wealth. From nearly every window, as well as from the lookout, lay spread out before the observer, a panorama of mountain, water, island, and forest scenery, of magnificent proportions.

Several of the younger members of the party, a little apart from their elders, were carelessly seated upon some rugs which had been thrown down on the steps, in a partially sheltered location; for a breeze had sprung up, and the temperature had become cool. Junius Van Roden had been duly presented to Miss Jenness, and an animated conversation between them, which indicated the discussion of interesting topics, engaged the attention of the younger group.

As several members of this family party occupy prominent places in this narrative, it may be well to present them to the reader, without further delay or formality. The family of Edmund Bonbright consisted of himself, wife and four children; Adelbert, a young Harvard man already known to the reader, was the eldest; next the twin daughters, Helen and Rosamond, and Tom, the youngest, who was much the junior of the others. Mr. Bonbright, whose city residence was on Commonwealth Avenue, Boston, was a banker by profession, stately and erect in personal appearance; ostentatious and haughty in manner, but courteous in bearing and address. His hair was of a silvery gray, and his closely cropped mustache and scrupulousness in attire gave him the air of a gentleman of the old school. His general deportment indicated a rich, self-satisfied man of the world; a patrician, possessing not only a family history, but also having personal energy and executive ability.

Mrs. Bonbright may be described as a person somewhat under medium size, with a form rather thin and angular, and a sharpness of line about the features, which indicated strength of purpose, and firmness in any chosen line of duty. Her facial expression might be regarded as somewhat austere, but quite conscientious, and while she was exacting and rigid in judgment, she was neither unkind nor disagreeable. She was punctilious in the performance of what she regarded as duty; a prudent housewife, scrupulous in conduct, but not over-tolerant with those from whom she differed.

The twin sisters were quite unlike in appearance, character, and temperament. Helen Bonbright was ideally beautiful, though utterly unconscious of her attractiveness. With a wealth of blond hair, large limpid blue eyes, and a pink transparent complexion, was combined a graceful and willowy figure of about the medium size. While self-reliant, true in character, full of kindness, and graceful in deportment, she was simple and unaffected. Her external loveliness was only a natural and corresponding manifestation of her inner nature. Rosamond also was exceptionally beautiful, but it was loveliness of a different type. She was a brunette, with coal-black hair, and dark, flashing eyes, arched by heavy drooping lashes. While intensely fond of society and gayety, impulsive, coquettish, and devoted to dress and display, she possessed much character and equipoise. The two sisters, while so utterly unlike, were devotedly fond of, and loyal to each other.

Tom, the youngest of the family, was a cripple and an invalid. Owing to an accident which occurred in early childhood, he was obliged to use a crutch, and at times was a great sufferer. He was now about twelve years of age, simple-minded, and inclined to fun and mischief.

On that day, besides the family, Miss Jenness, Van Roden, and a few other friends were to dine at the cottage. The guests included Bishop Alban, who was a brother of Mrs. Bonbright; Senator Van Roden, father of the medical student; and Miss Sophy Porter, a Boston lady of uncertain age, who often visited the Bonbrights at their city residence. Miss Porter was well known as a reformer, lecturer, woman-suffragist, and general champion of woman’s rights. While awaiting the summons to dinner, lively manifestations from the party on the piazza gave evidence of the social enjoyment and hearty good-will which prevailed. The sound of music floating out from the drawing-room, caused a sudden toning down of the conversation. After several themes from Beethoven, which followed each other in rapid succession, the final selection was a weird Hungarian rhapsody, during the performance of which, the utmost silence prevailed among the whole party. The most ordinary amateur would have noted a perfection of rendering and divination, which indicated not only artistic finish, but a wonderful power of interpretation. Passionate and subtle voices telling the story of their loves and trials, their discords and harmonies, and gradual transitions from one to the other, could be perfectly understood, though evolved from so material a medium as a piano.

“Whom have we among us that can play so exquisitely?” asked Van Roden after a pause, for though but an indifferent musician, he recognized the hand of an artist.

“Oh, that is Helen Bonbright,” replied Miss Jenness; “no one who has ever listened to her playing can afterwards mistake it. It is very kind of her to give us such a delicious prelude to dinner, although it seems like a descent from drinking in such a flow of melody, to the act of eating material food.”

“Yes, I think the feast of melody should come as the last course, to be in accord with the general law of progress,—from lower to higher,” replied Van Roden.

“I infer that you are a believer in the doctrine of evolution,” said Miss Jenness.

“I am not only a believer, but I must own to being somewhat of an enthusiast,—or at least, I may say that I am an interested student of evolutionary science.”

“Who are your favorite authors?” she asked.

“Darwin and Spencer, especially the latter, whom I regard as the most interesting and comprehensive of any of the later writers on scientific development,” replied Van Roden, “though I much enjoy Descartes, and some of the earlier investigators. There has been a process of evolution in evolutionary science itself, so that the latest modern thought is much in advance of earlier speculations.”

“Will you kindly state a few of the cardinal principles of the theory of development, as you accept them?” asked Miss Jenness.

“It would be very difficult to do so in a few words,” he replied; “but perhaps a mere outline might be given, as follows. We believe that all organisms, whether plants or animals, including man, have come into existence by the gradual growth and unfoldment of primordial germs; and that the whole physical universe, including everything organic and inorganic, is a mechanism, and as such, is to be accounted for on physical principles.”

Van Roden warmed up as he proceeded in the exposition of his favorite topic, for Miss Jenness appeared interested, and this was unlike his usual experience. As a rule, his listeners had been bored whenever he had trotted out his favorite hobby.

“All structures,” he continued, “have proceeded by regular gradations from extreme simplicity to greater complexity, and each has relations with the other. There is also a close analogy between the different series of gradations presented by the various species which comprise any great group of animals or plants, and, still farther, large groups of species of widely different habits present the same fundamental plan of structure.”

Adelbert, who had drawn near, and partially grasped the line of argument, interposing, said,—

“We are ready to accept the doctrine of evolution, Van, without further proof, for we have evidence in you, that the process is going on, and that you are rapidly being unfolded into a crank.”

Van Roden, however, seeing that Miss Jenness continued interested, disregarded the interruption, and continued: “There are various structures and organs in a rudimentary and useless condition, which in the more advanced species of the same group have definite utility and perfection. It is observable, also, that the effects of varying conditions, or environment, exercise a modifying influence upon living organisms.”

“What is it that evolves itself, and how was the process brought about?” inquired Miss Jenness.

“As I before suggested,” said he, “the operation must have begun with primordial germs; and a mechanical, physical force, which is inherent in matter, caused their gradual unfoldment.”

“You can do me a great favor,” suggested Miss Jenness, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“I shall be most happy,” replied the unsuspecting medical student.

“If you will be so kind as to procure for me a small basket of those primordial germs; I would like to take them home, when I return to Philadelphia.”

Van Roden joined in the general laugh which followed, regardless of the fact that it was at his own expense. However, Miss Jenness seemed disposed to continue the discussion, and, putting aside her jesting mood, inquired: “What about mind and its origin?”

“Mind is but a property or manifestation of matter,” he replied, “and mental evolution is simply a more advanced, attenuated and refined phase of material unfoldment. From the earliest operation of inanimate nature, up to human mentality, reason and ethics, as they now present themselves, the process has been a purely physical and mechanical development. All phenomena may be traced from matter, and the forces which inhere in its operations.”

“What a dismal, cold, heartless machine we are a part of,” responded Miss Jenness. “I suppose we may regard ourselves as cogs in some small wheel of the vast mechanism; or as automatons, worked by springs and valves.”

Van Roden winced a little, as he detected the tinge of sarcasm in her tones, but, regardless of that, he thought her bright and entertaining. He was intolerant of dulness, but a keen opponent, especially of the weaker sex, interested him. She continued: “You appear to be not only a materialist, but a matter-worshipper.”

Van Roden prided himself upon having the former term applied to him, but the latter he thought a little severe, and replied, “As a matter of fact, Miss Jenness, I really cannot plead guilty to any kind of worship.”

“If you find all potency in matter,” she replied, “you must, unconsciously, at least, pay homage to it. In a most realistic sense, man must worship something. That faculty is inherent in his nature. He will reverence whatever in his own conception is the highest or supremest power. You are aware that man unconsciously will grow like his ideal, and, with a material conception of all life and power, he will become more and more material, and progress will be earthward.”

Miss Jenness was becoming quite in earnest. “Looking backward to the utmost, to an imaginative starting-point,” she continued, “you begin with primordial germs, and from them proceed to evolve, not only the whole universe of matter, but of mind also. How could inanimate things originate such a skilful and intelligent evolutionary system? Where does the genesis of conscious mind and will make its appearance? Have you the assurance to claim that ethical and religious truth originated in primordial germs?”

Miss Jenness had piled these questions upon each other so rapidly, that Van Roden found it difficult to reply to them in detail, and became a little uneasy. He pulled himself together, however, and observed: “Spencer thinks that we must limit feeling and consciousness to those organic beings that are endowed with a nervous system. With the evolution of nerves came, gradually, feeling, and, finally, consciousness.”

“How could such marvellous tendencies and possibilities have been implanted in matter without not only infinite wisdom, but infinite forethought?” replied Miss Jenness. “As to the evolution of material nerves, they are no more spirit, will, or intelligence than is muscle. That science which places the limit of its domain at materiality is one-sided, and therefore, notwithstanding its arrogant claims, unscientific. Its boundaries embrace only that part of related truth which is lowest and least important, while it is blind to all the higher and more intrinsic domain of spirit and spiritual law. When in the dissecting-room, have you ever been able, with the aid of your scalpels and microscopes, to peer into the body deeply enough to find the man himself? The mind is the man, while the material part, which from your standpoint you regard as man, is only an external manifestation of him. I believe that there are many signs already visible which indicate that the materialistic trend of the times is beginning to turn; and that true science, which is comprehensive, and which embraces all spiritual and immaterial law and progress, as well as that which is physical, will soon displace the prevailing coarse and superficial speculations, which refuse to recognize anything beyond the cognizance of the physical senses. A word more in regard to evolution, as a process. We accept the fact that the creative process may be progressive, or, if you please, evolutionary, within some yet undefined limitations; but that that fact invalidates in the slightest degree the reign of spiritual law, or the existence of an All-Wise and Supreme Creator, we most emphatically deny. A superb mechanism, whether produced suddenly or gradually, proves its previous existence in the conception of its author. Let me assure you that it is only pseudo-science, which rakes over and over the mud of materialism, while it closes its eyes and ears to spiritual verities on every hand.”

Van Roden had a sensation of being hors du combat, and this by an opponent of the weaker sex. He had become so accustomed to asserting himself, and could so easily throw up what seemed to him a strong intrenchment of materialistic argument, on short notice, buttressed with quotations and sentiments from Darwin, Spencer, and Huxley, that to find a woman able to discomfit him was a new sensation. His attention was diverted for the moment from the argument to his fair opponent, and the thought flashed through his mind that in her, Evolution was well advanced, and had accomplished some very fine work.

Just then the announcement of dinner ended the discussion.

At the table, Miss Porter and Miss Jenness occupied seats respectively at the right and left of the host, and Bishop Alban and Senator Van Roden were placed in corresponding positions on either side of Mrs. Bonbright. Van Roden, who had escorted Miss Jenness to the dining-room, found an assignment which placed him next on her left; with Helen Bonbright on his left. After expressing to Miss Helen his high appreciation of her musical prelude, he again turned his attention to Miss Jenness, merely, as he persuaded himself, to indulge in a little study of character. He had never before met such a woman, for no one previously had taken sufficient interest in his theories to confute them; but here was “an opponent worthy of his steel.”

Adelbert Bonbright had been an interested observer of the discussion, not because of any special interest in the subject, but on account of Miss Jenness’s participation in it; and of the neat manner in which she had spiked Van Roden’s guns.

A license for indulgence in mind-reading is sometimes granted to the chronicler of events, and its application at that moment to Adelbert Bonbright, as he cast a bitter glance at Van Roden, would have revealed, in a mild form, the presence of the “green-eyed monster,”—but as the young man’s solid sense came to his rescue, the unwelcome spectre was quickly cast out.

The table and dining-room had been tastefully decorated with flowers by the cunning hand of Rosamond, and the pleasing odor of tempting viands, enhanced by the rich and massive service of silver and cut glass, together with the bright faces and charming costumes of the young people, formed a tableau of social life, full of interest and color.

Mr. Bonbright had been spending a few days in the city, and as he had only returned the night before, his mind was much occupied with market values, stocks and bonds, but he was too well bred to introduce business topics at dinner. In political economy, ethics, social science, and the tariff, he had positive views, and while discussing a good dinner, he always enjoyed a little intellectual sparring—by way of seasoning. He was especially fond of a tilt with Miss Porter, who always posed as the embodiment of all “reforms” and “advances.” Her greatest pride consisted in the fact that she was a radical; his, in his conservatism. She had recently attended a convention in which woman-suffrage, prohibition, nationalism, socialism, and various other “isms,” had been discussed, and their merits satisfactorily proved and demonstrated.

“I suppose that the world is to be recreated, and society reconstructed on a new and improved plan, when your machinery all gets into working order,” said Mr. Bonbright, addressing her.

Miss Porter had been giving an outline of the doings of a recent gathering, where the leading spirits of “reform” had met for mutual inspiration and encouragement.

“Yes,” she replied; “a radical change and reconstruction are necessary in all departments. When woman, who always possessed the abstract right of suffrage, gets that right recognized and made operative, a grand step will have been taken toward moral, social, and economic reform. Among the objective points will be: a more equal distribution of wealth; the regulation and control of corporations; constitutional prohibition; and other needed amendments and improvements.”

“What a bore it will be, if we are obliged to study politics, attend caucuses, and go to the polls,” said Rosamond. “If the rival candidates for any office were men, I should vote for the best-looking one. Whatever the office might be, I should fancy a fine-appearing official.”

“Points of that kind would not have a feather’s weight with me,” observed Miss Porter, “but other things being equal, in the interest of reform, I should vote for women for all offices. I think they would prove more efficient, and be less liable to be swayed by mercenary motives.”

“I trust that you have no inclination to do our sex the slightest injustice,” said Senator Van Roden. “I have uniformly voted for every measure of a reformatory character, and also favored a continual increase and enlargement of the functions of the State. As to woman-suffrage, I am heartily in sympathy with your views on the subject, and have uniformly labored and voted in its behalf.”

“You may rest assured, Senator, that in my general observations, nothing could have been farther from my intention than to reflect upon you. I assure you, that your efforts for the enfranchisement of woman, and for reforms in general, are highly appreciated by me, and by all true reformers.”

“I would like to know how many women exist who would be uninfluenced in their voting, and their political principles, by purely sentimental considerations,” interposed Mr. Bonbright. “It is natural and well for women to be sentimental, but sentiment does not harmonize well with politics. It would be like a mixture of oil and water, or a combination of romance and mathematics. How would a jury composed of those women who take bouquets to the cells of notorious criminals stand the pressure, when a desperado was brought before them for trial, in case he were defended by a lawyer that could evolve unlimited supplies of sympathy and pathos? Where would women get that necessary experience, and knowledge of finance, tariffs, treaties, and political economy, for which they have no opportunity, owing to the duties and occupations of their domestic life? Allow me to suggest, Miss Porter, that if your sex know when they are well off, they will keep their normal place, and try to fill it, rather than attempt to spread themselves over unlimited territory.”

“I think women would do their duty more faithfully than men, so far as they understood it,” suggested Mrs. Bonbright, “but I have no desire to vote, and do not believe in it.”

Mrs. Bonbright was intensely loyal to her sex, but her ideas of woman’s province did not coincide with Miss Porter’s.

Van Roden glanced at Miss Jenness as if to divine her sentiments; but she remained provokingly silent.

“Woman has a vast field for usefulness,” said Helen, “but it appears to me, that neither by nature nor education, is she fitted to take an active part in politics and legislation. Her place in society is not boundless in extent, but it is all-important. There is work enough that she is suited for, and her ambition should be to do that peculiar work well. The highest possible occupation consists in laying moral foundations in individual character, for which service woman has especial adaptability, and when that is well done, the particular forms and methods by which that character expresses itself are of secondary importance. If Miss Porter will pardon both the sentiment and the incongruity, I will vote that women do not vote.”

“I quite agree with you, my dear niece, so far as woman-suffrage is concerned,” observed Bishop Alban, “and may I suggest to Miss Porter that all moral reform, to be genuine, must be developed through divinely appointed channels. The Church is the arbiter of morals, for all morality is the direct outgrowth of religion, and religion has expression in organized and appointed institutions, doctrines, forms, and sacraments. While with us the Church and State are distinct, yet the State should receive from the Church a direct moulding and regulative influence. All ethical legislation should find its first principles from that source, and that alone.”

“With all respect,” replied Helen, “may I suggest, that while institutions—especially the Church—as a means, are indispensable, for the reason that they elevate and refine character, yet in their nature, they appear to be auxiliary, rather than ultimate.”

“When all the reforms which can be brought about by improved legislation are inaugurated,” suggested the Senator, “we will have a much nearer approach to an ideal condition of society, than has been realized. There will be a great improvement in the ways and means for the distribution of wealth, and the State will not merely regulate, but transact in its own name the business now monopolized by great corporations, and the brotherhood of man will gradually become a reality.”

“Excuse me,” said Mr. Bonbright, “but I am tired of this nonsense about the brotherhood of man that is to be brought about by reducing all sorts and conditions of men to one dead level, and a very low level at that. Must we all lose our individuality, and require a paternal government to watch over us, as would be necessary if we were all infants or imbeciles? Give me a monarchy, where there is at least some personal freedom, rather than a government which, while ostensibly democratic, would become a great tyrannical machine—cast-iron in every detail. There could be no oppression more severe than that of a majority which is enforced merely for that reason. By means of the machinery of legislation, natural and fundamental rights can be trampled upon which are older than the Decalogue. As an instance take those States where, under the forms of legislative law, natural and moral law is violated by the establishment of unremunerative rates for the sale of railway service. The buyers, being the majority, force the sellers to accept a price dictated by purchasers, and this proves that stealing can be done by a State, as easily as by an individual. If this rapid progress towards paternal tyranny continues, I shall emigrate to some quarter of the globe where individual energy, ambition, and talent, have some value.”

“I quite agree with you,” said Miss Jenness, who up to this time had taken no part in the general conversation. “Anything but a dead level. Complete unity is formed of variety. Society, to be ideally perfect, and in order to form harmonious completeness, must be composed of dissimilar elements. Each member of a perfect organism must be in, and fill its peculiar place, then all will go well. As Pope well puts it,—

A brotherly spirit should permeate all the members, but as to the external ways of its manifestation, there must be individual freedom. By a wonderful inherent process, each element will find the place where it can do the most for itself, and for others, and thus the law of moral and social specific gravity will make a thousandfold finer adjustments than would be possible from the fruits of the best legislation, piled ‘Ossa on Pelion.’ There is a strong inclination at the present time, to push legislation beyond its normal limits, and when so strained, it becomes artificial, impractical, and injurious. It aggravates evils which have in them the elements of self-regulation, or self-destruction.”

Van Roden cast an appreciative glance at Miss Jenness as she concluded her argument, and was pleased that she had as clearly come off victor in the contest with his senatorial parent, as she had done with him. This young woman was an enigma to him. She appeared equally ready on all subjects. Must he revise his opinions of the sex, or was this specimen a “rara avis”?

Before either the Senator or Miss Porter found opportunity to re-open their batteries, the last course had been served, and, at the motion of the hostess, the whole party adjourned to the drawing-room. The evening was occupied with social converse, music, whist, and the making of plans for excursions on the following day.