At Bellemont College the themes were not read by the writers, because in that immaculate institution it was deemed unladylike for a young lady to stand upon a platform before a mixed audience and read her own composition aloud, and it was also thought that the embarrassment which a young writer would be likely to feel in such a position would seriously mar the delivery and detract from the effect of her theme. So it was arranged that all the themes should be read aloud by the professor of elocution to the institution, whose highly cultivated style would certainly improve the poorest composition, and do full justice to the richest. He “lent to the words of the poet the music of his voice.”
He read with great effect Britomarte Conyers’ essay on the “Civil and Political Rights of Women,” in which the author bravely asserted not only the rights of married women to the control of their own property and custody of their own children, but the rights of all women to a competition with men in all the paths of industry and a share with them in all the chances of success—in the mechanical arts, in learned professions, in commercial business, in municipal and national government, in the camp, the field, the ship; in the Senate, in the Cabinet, on the Bench, and in the Presidential chair. She supported her argument with the names and examples of the noteworthy women of all ages and countries—women, who, in despite of the obstacles of law, precedent and prejudice, had distinguished themselves in every field of enterprise ever illustrated by men. It was altogether a clear, warm, strong, brilliant article; and, like all works of genius, it received an almost equal share of enthusiastic praise and extravagant blame. It was excessively admired for the strength, beauty and ingenuity of its argument, and bitterly censured for the heterodoxy of its doctrines.
Among those who listened to the reading was Justin Rosenthal, the brother of Erminie, who, seated beside his father, gave the most earnest attention to the argument.
At its conclusion, he turned to the elder Rosenthal, and said:
“That is the most original, outspoken and morally courageous assertion of right against might that has been made since the immortal Declaration of Independence! And that it should have been written by a schoolgirl seems almost incredible. A rare, fine spirit—a pure, noble heart—a clear, strong intellect she has. I wonder who she is?”
“I do not know,” replied Dr. Rosenthal, for Erminie’s father was a D. D.—“I do not know; but I do know that her argument, though ingenious, is wrong from beginning to end.”
Later on was announced the name of the successful candidate for the medal to be awarded for the best English theme. The medal was awarded to Britomarte Conyers, for her essay on the “Civil and Political Rights of Woman.”
“Britomarte Conyers, then, is the author of that theme you admire so much, and is the young lady you are so curious to see. I congratulate you, Justin! Miss Conyers is your sister’s most intimate friend. You will have an opportunity not only of seeing her, but of forming her acquaintance under the most auspicious circumstances,” said Dr. Rosenthal.
“Nay,” smiled Justin, “I do not know that I care to follow up any such acquaintance with the young champion of womankind. I merely wish to see and judge her as a rather singular specimen of her sex.”
It was at the school ball of the evening that Justin Rosenthal was presented to Britomarte Conyers, whose personal beauty and grace made as deep an impression on his heart as her genius had made upon his mind. At the same time and place Colonel Eastworth, a distinguished son of South Carolina, was introduced to Erminie. And thus two of our young friends met the persons who were destined to exercise the most powerful influence over their future lives.