That women emerged so suddenly from a state of ignorance, superstition,
and mystic dreams to a position of intellectual distinction and
virtual though not legal equality with men, is one of the marvels of
the Renaissance. The change was as rapid and complete as that which
came over the women of the nineteenth century. It is scarcely less
remarkable, in the light of our own experience, that their new-born
passion for learning met with so little opposition. They did not find
it necessary to fight their own battles. There was no question of
asserting their right to the higher education, as we have been forced
to do. This was taken as a matter of course and without controversy.
They were educated on equal lines with men, and by the same masters;
nor were the most distinguished teachers of the age afraid of being
enervated by this contact with the feminine mind, as certain modern
professors claim to be. Doubtless they would have smiled at such a
reflection on their own mental vigor.
One is constantly surprised by the extraordinary precocity of the
young girls. Cecilia, the daughter of an early Marquis of Mantua, was
trained with her brothers by the most famous master in Italy, and
wrote Greek with singular purity at ten. She refused a brilliant but
distasteful marriage, and devoted her life to literature. The little
Battista, whose talents descended to her illustrious granddaughter,
Vittoria Colonna, was chosen, at an age when girls are usually playing
with dolls or learning their letters, to greet Pius II in a Latin
address. Anna d’Este, who became the wife of the Duke of Guise, and
in later life was so prominent a patroness of letters in France,
translated Italian into Latin with ease at ten, and was otherwise a
prodigy. One might imagine these children to have been insufferable
little prigs, but such does not seem to have been the case. So far as
we can learn, they did not lose their simplicity, and grew up to be
capable, many-sided, and charming women, quite free from pedantry or
affectation of any sort. Without attaching too much importance to these
childish efforts, which were by no means uncommon, they are of value
mainly in showing the care given to the serious education of girls.
It is certain that the place held by educated women was a new and
exceptional one. They filled chairs of philosophy and law, discoursed
in Latin before bishops and cardinals, spoke half a dozen or more
languages, understood the mysteries of statecraft better than any of
us do to-day, and were consulted on public affairs by the greatest
sovereigns of their age. Nor do we hear that they were unsexed or
out of their sphere. On the contrary, men recognized their talents
and gave them cordial appreciation. While the shafts of satire fell
thick and fast upon the follies peculiar to ignorance and weakness,
they were rarely aimed at those who, even to-day, would be more or
less stigmatized as strong-minded. Possibly a clue to this may be
found in the fact that in training the intellect they did not lose
their distinctive virtues and graces; they simply added the cult
of knowledge, which heightened all other charms. We find constant
reference to their attractions of person and character, as well as
of mind. Novella d’Andrea took her father’s place in his absence and
lectured on jurisprudence at the University of Bologna; but, either
from modesty or from the fear of distracting the too susceptible
students, she hid her lovely face behind a curtain. At a later time
Elena Cornaro--who was not only versed in mathematics, astronomy,
philosophy, theology, and six languages, but sang her own verses, gave
Latin eulogies, and lectured on various sciences--was crowned doctor of
philosophy at Padua. She took her honors modestly, and is said to have
been as pious as she was learned.
In these days of specialties one looks with distrust on so formidable
an array of accomplishments. We are apt to think of such women as
either hopelessly superficial, or pedants without any fine human
quality. A few salient points from the life of one of the most
distinguished may serve to correct this impression.