I AM INTRODUCED TO THE ILLUMINATI.
A young man who commences life as a reformer, and a leader in the party
of progress, while saying the best and most reasonable things in the
world, and advocating what appear to him the most needed reforms, often
finds himself, in consequence, in the condition of one who has pulled
the string of a very large shower-bath. He wanted cold water, and he
gets a deal more than he bargained for; in fact, often catches his
breath, and wonders when this sort of thing is going to stop. My
articles on the "Modern Woman," in the _Milky Way_, had brought me into
notice in certain enthusiastic circles, and I soon found myself deluged
with letters, appeals, pamphlets, newspapers, all calling for the most
urgent and immediate attention, and all charging me on my allegiance to
"the cause," immediately, and without loss of time, to write articles
for said papers gratuitously, to circulate said pamphlets, to give
favorable notices of said books, and instantly to find lucrative
situations for hosts of distressed women who were tired of the humdrum
treadmill of home-life, and who wished to have situations provided where
there was no drudgery and no labor, but _very_ liberal compensation. The
whole large army of the _incapables_,--the blind, the halt, the lame,
the weary, and the forlorn,--all seemed inclined to choose me as their
captain, and to train under my banner. Because I had got into a
subordinate position on the _Great Democracy_, they seemed to consider
that it was my immediate business to make the _Great Democracy_ serve
their wants, or to perish in the attempt.
My friend, Ida Van Arsdel, was a serious, large-minded, large-brained
woman, who had laid a deep and comprehensive plan of life, and was
adhering to it with a patient and silent perseverance. Still she had no
sympathy in that class of society where her lot was cast. Her mother and
her Aunt Maria were women who lived and breathed merely in the opinions
of their set and circle, and were as incapable of considering any higher
ideal of life, or any unworldly purpose, as two canary-birds. Mr. Van
Arsdel, a quiet, silent man, possessed a vein of good sense which led
him to appreciate his eldest daughter at her real worth; and he was not
insensible to the pleasure of having one feminine companion who, as he
phrased it, "understood business," and with whom he could talk and
advise understandingly. But even he had no sympathy with those larger
views of the wants and needs of womanhood, in view of which Ida was
acting. It followed very naturally that as Ida got no sympathy in her
own circle, she was led to seek it in the widening sphere of modern
reformers--a circle in which so much that is fine and excellent and
practical, is inevitably mixed with a great deal that is crude and
excessive.
At her request I accompanied her and Eva one evening to a sort of
New-Dispensation _salon_, which was held weekly at the house of Mrs.
Stella Cerulean. Mrs. Stella Cerulean was a brilliant woman--beautiful
in person, full of genius, full of enthusiasm, full of self-confidence,
the most charming of talkers, and the most fascinating of women. Her
career from early life had been one of those dazzling successes which
always fall to the lot of beauty, seconded by a certain amount of tact
and genius. Of both these gifts Mrs. Cerulean had just enough to
bewilder the head of any gentleman who made her acquaintance. She had in
her girlhood made the tour of Europe, shone as a star in the courts of
France and Russia, and might be excused for a more than ordinary share
of complacency in her successes. In common with handsome women
generally, she had, during the greater part of her life, never heard
anything but flattery from gentlemen, and it always agreed with her
remarkably well. But Mrs. Cerulean was one of those women, with just
intellect and genius enough to render her impatient of the mere
common-place triumphs of beauty. She felt the intoxicating power of the
personal influence which she possessed, and aspired to reign in the
region of the mind as well as to charm the senses. She felt herself
called to the modern work of society regeneration, and went into it with
all the enthusiasm of her nature, and with all that certainty of success
which comes from an utter want of practical experience. Problems which
old statesmen contemplated with perplexity, which had been the despair
of ages, she took up with a cheerful alacrity.
She had one simple remedy for the reconstruction of society about whose
immediate application she saw not the slightest difficulty. It was
simply and only to be done by giving the affairs of the world into the
hands of women, forthwith. Those who only claim _equality_ for women
were, in Mrs. Cerulean's view, far behind the age. Woman was the
superior sex, the divine sex. Had not every gentleman of her
acquaintance, since she could remember, told her this with regard to
herself? Had they not always told her that she could know everything
without study, simply by the divine intuitions of womanhood; that she
could flash to conclusions without reasoning, simply by the brilliancy
of her eyes; that her purity was incorruptible in its very nature; that
all her impulses were heavenly and God-given? Naturally enough, then, it
was her deduction that all that was wanting to heal the woes and wants
of society was that she and other such inspired beings should
immediately take to themselves their power, and _reign_.
Such is a general sketch of Mrs. Cerulean's view of the proper method of
introducing the millennium. Meanwhile, she did her part in it by holding
_salons_ once a week, in which people entertaining similar views met for
the purpose, apparently, of a general generation of gas, without any
particular agreement as to the method in which it should be applied.
This was the company of people to whom Eva rather pathetically alluded
in one of her conversations once, as such nice people, who were so very
puzzling to her, because no two of them ever seemed to think alike on
any subject; and all agreed in opening their eyes very wide in
astonishment if anybody quoted the Bible to them as an authority in
faith and practice.
Ida was much courted and petted by this circle. And sensible, good girl
as she was, she was not wholly without pleasure in the admiration they
showed for her. Then, again, there were, every evening, ventilated in
this company quantities of the most splendid and heroic ideas possible
to human beings. The whole set seemed to be inspired with the spirit of
martyrdom, without any very precise idea of how to get martyred
effectually. It was only agreed that _everything_ in the present state
of society was _wrong_, and was to be pulled down forthwith. But as to
what was to come after this demolition, there were as many opinions in
the circle as there were persons, and all held with a wonderful degree
of tenacity. A portion of them were of opinion that a new dispensation
fresh from the heavenly realms was being inaugurated by means of
spiritualistic communications daily and hourly conveyed to privileged
individuals. It was, however, unfortunate that these communications
were, very many of them, in point-blank opposition to each other; so
that the introduction of revelations from the invisible world seemed
only likely to make the confusion worse confounded. Then again, as to
all the existing relations of life, there was the same charming variety
of opinion. But one thing seemed to be pretty generally conceded among
the whole circle, that in the good time coming, nobody was ever to do
anything that he did not want to do, or feel at the moment just like
doing. The great object of existence apparently was to get rid of
everything that was disagreeable and painful. Thus, quite a party of
them maintained that all marriage relations ought to drop, from the
moment that either party ceased to take pleasure in them, without any
regard to the interest of the other party or the children; because the
fundamental law of existence was happiness--and nothing could make
people happy but liberty to do just as they had a mind to.
I must confess that I found my evening at Mrs. Cerulean's _salon_ a very
agreeable one; the conversation of thoroughly emancipated people has a
sparkling variety to it which is exactly the thing to give one a lively,
pleasant evening. Everybody was full of enthusiasm, and in the very best
of spirits. And there appeared to be nothing that anybody was afraid to
say. Nobody was startled by anything. There was not a question, as it
appeared, that had been agitated since the creation of the world, that
was not still open to discussion.
As we were walking home after spending an evening, Ida asked me:
"Now, Mr. Henderson, what do you think of it?"
"Well, Miss Ida," said I, "after all, I'm a believer in the
old-fashioned Bible."
"What, _really_, Mr. Henderson?"
"Really and squarely, Miss Ida. And never more so than when I associate
with very clever people who have given it up. There is, to my mind, a
want of common sense about all theories of life that are not built on
that."
"Well," said Ida, "I have long since made up my mind, for my own part,
that if the cause of woman is to be advanced in this world, it is not so
much by meeting together and talking about it, as by each individual
woman proposing to herself some good work for the sex, and setting about
it patiently, and doing it quietly. That is rather my idea; at the same
time, I like to hear these people talk, and they certainly are a great
contrast to the vapid people that are called good society. There is a
freshness and earnestness of mind about some of them that is really very
interesting; and I get a great many new ideas."
"For my part," said Eva, "to be sure I have been a sad idler, but if I
were going to devote myself to any work for women, it should be in the
church, and under the guidance of the church. I am sure there is
something we can do there. And then, one's sure of not running into all
sorts of vagaries."
"Now," said Ida, "all I want is that women should do _something_; that
the lives of girls, from the time they leave school till the time they
are married, should not be such a perfect waste as they now are. I do
not profess to be certain about any of these theories that I hear; but
one thing I do know: we women will bear being made a great deal more
self-sustaining and self-supporting than we have been. We _can_ be more
efficient in the world, and we ought to be. I have chosen my way, and
mean to keep to it. And my idea is that a woman who really does
accomplish a life-work is just like one that cuts the first path through
a wood. She makes a way where others can walk."
"That's you, Ida," said Eva; "but I am not strong enough to cut first
paths."
I felt a little nervous flutter of her hand on my arm as she said this.
It was in the dark, and involuntarily, I suppose, my hand went upon
hers, and before I thought of it I felt the little warm thing in my own
as if it had been a young bird. It was one of those things that people
sometimes do before they know it. But I noticed that she did not
withdraw her hand, and so I held it, querying in my own mind whether
this little arrangement was one of the privileges of friendship. Before
I quite resolved this question we parted at the house-door.