“We, the undersigned, residents of New York City and

neighborhood, beg leave to present our respectful petition:

That in view of the present state of public opinion, both here

and in other countries, touching the justice and expediency of

admitting women to the same educational advantages as men, a

state of opinion especially evidenced by the recent action of

the English universities of Cambridge and London, and in view

of the influential position of Columbia College as among the

oldest and most richly endowed educational institutions in the

United States, and pre-eminently representing the intellectual

interests of the city of New York, you will be pleased to

consider how best to extend, with as little delay as possible,

to such properly qualified women as may desire it, the many and

great benefits of education in Columbia College, by admitting

them to lectures and examinations.”

To many sober and conscientious persons, both men and women, this demand

sounds absurd, needless, improper, and dangerous. But do these objectors

remember that every appeal for a better female education seemed, in

its day, equally preposterous? It is hardly three centuries since

Mademoiselle Françoise de Saintonge was hooted through the streets of her

native village for proposing so disreputable a plan as the establishment

of schools for girls in France, and her anxious father called in four

learned doctors to determine whether this mad idea was not due to her

possession by devils. The doctors pronounced her in her right mind,

but her pious fellow-citizens stopped the spread of immoral ideas by

the conclusive argument of insults levelled at the teacher and stones

addressed to the pupils. The progress of the next century and a half is

recorded in Dean Swift’s observation that men constantly asked each other

whether it was prudent to choose a wife who had good natural parts,

some sense of wit and humor, a little knowledge of history, the capacity

to relish travels or moral and entertaining discourse, and to discern

the more obvious beauties of poetry. The general verdict, he says, was

against such attainments in women, because their tendency was to make

wives pretentious and conceited, and not duly subject to their husbands.

Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, translating Epictetus at nineteen, and sending

her work to her kind friend, the Lord Bishop of Salisbury, apologizes at

length for attempting a task universally pronounced unfit for a woman,

and certain to draw down censure upon her (excusing herself, however,

by citing the opinions of Erasmus, in the Latin!). Nearly fifty years

afterwards, in advising her daughter concerning the education of a

bright little namesake, she entreats that free scope may be accorded

the child’s capacity, for the sake of the pure delight of learning and

of her future happiness. But she adds the warning that, to insure a

satisfactory marriage, the young girl’s wit and acquirements must be

as carefully concealed as a deformity from a world which suspected or

despised a learned woman. So strong, almost to our day, has been this

half-conscious contempt of the feminine mentality, that even Charles

Lamb, that gentle and charitable soul, could speak of “L.E.L.” with an

unmanly sneer, and declare that a female poet, or female author of any

kind, invited disrespect.

It is but ninety years since an Englishwoman, the famous Mary

Wollstonecroft, published the first serious demand for the higher

education of Englishwomen. Her public found the book immodest,

irreligious, anarchic. Issued to-day, it would appear a harmless plea,

a trifle heavy and conservative, perhaps, for the thorough cultivation

of the female mind, urged on social, moral, and religious grounds, and

protesting against the sentimentalism of Rousseau and the now forgotten

Dr. Gregory. Mrs. Hannah More’s dull novel of “Cœlebs in Search of a

Wife,” issued in 1808, contained, perhaps, the first argument in fiction

that a ninny is not necessarily the ideal wife, or a knowledge of the

Latin grammar incompatible with a turn for house-keeping.

It was no scoffer, but the sweet-spirited Fénelon, who taught that

contact with learning would be almost as fatal to womanly delicacy as

contact with vice. To Voltaire’s love of epigram might be pardoned his

saying that “Ideas are like beards; women and young men have none.”

But Lessing was serious when he declared that “The woman who thinks

is like the man who puts on rouge, ridiculous.” And even Niebuhr, the

large-minded, believed that he should not have educated a girl well, for

he should have made her know too much.

It was the first care of the Pilgrim Fathers to establish schools. Girls

were allowed to attend these, two hours a day. But afterwards the system

was remodelled in a spirit of wide liberality, and girls were suffered

all day—in the summer. When women teachers came to be employed, they

were required to “teach the English language correctly and the rudiments

of arithmetic.” In 1826, after a discussion of three years, the city

fathers of Boston resolved to establish a high-school for girls on the

model of its admirable high-school for boys. But such an army of young

women battered the gates of that educational heaven with storms of

prayers that, after a trial of eighteen mouths, the dismayed corporation

decided—to enlarge the building and multiply teachers? No, but to close

the school altogether.

We smile at Monsieur de Saintonge and the sages of Boston. The two

hundred and fifty advertisements refute the ancient prejudices. The

innumerable names of women who have conquered success in literature,

science, art; as great organizers, administrators, educators, refute

them. The very discussion of the hour puts them to silence, for it

declares that the question is no longer whether women are worth

educating, but what education is worth most to them. The point of view is

changed because the social conditions are changed.

If the cultivated judgment of ages held the female understanding to

be inferior, doubtless it was inferior. Without incentives, means, or

opportunities for growth, the mind of woman did not grow. And these helps

were denied her, not by any mean desire of man to defraud her, not by any

divine limitation of her needs, but because her time had not come. Just

as war and slavery have been inevitable conditions and natural agents of

human progress, so has the subjection of woman. In a rude society man

was her necessary protector, she his helpless dependent. Some sort of

marriage utilized the capacity, such as it was, of every woman, because

every man needed a household of cheap servitors. If he fought to protect

his property in wives and concubines, they cancelled the debt by labor.

Ignorance was their normal and necessary estate. So long as the exercise

of brute force remained the chief satisfaction of man, so long was woman

insignificant. As advancing civilization has required them, the feminine

qualities have answered, with growing adequacy, to the requirement. But

of necessity the traditions of the time of man’s legitimate supremacy

lived on, and still survive in the general if vague notion that something

external, mechanical, eleemosynary, must be done continually _for_

woman; whereas the modern spirit, which has been so long struggling into

recognition, maintains that little of permanent value can be done for

woman which is not done _by_ woman. Growth is from within.

In his attitude of guardian, man—as, in the progress of time, he has felt

the need of a companion and ally rather than of a servant and toy—has

gradually released to woman the freedom of certain tracts of knowledge,

finding his own account in this concession. And if he has not hitherto

been ready to endow her with the whole fair domain, neither has she been

free to occupy it. Ever since the Old Testament matrons ground the corn

between stones, and sewed the skins their husbands brought home, and

baked, and brewed, and made wine, and taught their slaves, and tended

their sick, and reared their children, and adorned themselves to find

favor in the sight of their lords, have generations of women found their

first untroubled rest in the grave. But now machinery does half their

work at half the cost, while organization still further relieves them

from drudgery. Moreover, the great increase of wealth following on the

arts of peace, fosters a growing class of unemployed and luxurious women,

free to use the means of the higher education which their higher needs

demand.

How, then, shall we make the most of that great indeterminate factor

of the new civilization—the feminine intelligence? It would seem

self-evident that those studies which have taken their place in the

higher education of man, because philosophy and experience found in them

the surest and readiest means of symmetrical mental development, must be

equally valuable to woman. If the languages, mathematics, modern science,

logic, metaphysics, psychology, best train the faculties of observation,

comparison, reflection; if they give flexibility and strength to the

mind, and mould it to be always progressive, always acquiring more

knowledge by thoughtful experience—ought not their salutary discipline,

as administered in college, to be extended to girls?

It is answered, first, that girls, being different, do not need the same

training as boys; second, that they already have it; third, that they

could not endure it. But whether likeness or difference predominates

can never be known until like training develop the one or emphasize the

other. “As long as boys and girls run about in the dirt and trundle hoops

together,” wrote Sydney Smith, “they are precisely alike. If you catch up

one-half of these creatures and train them to a particular set of actions

and opinions, and the other half to a perfectly opposite set, of course

their understandings will differ, as one or the other sort of occupations

has called this or that talent into action. There is surely no occasion

to go into any deeper or more abstruse reasoning to explain so very

simple a phenomenon.” Teachers of mixed classes agree that what profits

the one profits the other. Seneca advocated the study of the Greek

philosophy for women, who, he said, needed it as a restraint upon their

more impulsive temperament; and Plutarch urged upon his countrywomen

the study of the Greek language and literature for a like reason. No

less forcible is Doctor Johnson’s plea for this culture—that whatever

withdraws us from the power of the senses, whatever makes the past, the

distant, or the future predominate over the present, advances us in the

dignity of human beings.

The education of women is notoriously defective in the cultivation

of definite ideas and the training of the judgment. Familiarity with

scientific methods of study would dissipate their general and perilous

confidence in “luck,” and in that impossible condition known as “about

right.” Of directly practical value, also, would they find the capacity

to deduce a conclusion from its premises, to estimate the worth of

evidence, and understand the nature of proof. In every household affairs

come daily to judgment requiring more or less scientific knowledge and a

scientific habit of thought. An exact mental training would mitigate the

evils and enlarge the best possibilities of woman’s existence.

This training both private schools and high-schools must fall short of.

Girls’ high-schools afford four years of what is projected as an eight

years’ term, and girls are expected to be satisfied with what is merely

a preparatory course for their brothers. Private schools necessarily

reflect the indefinite and various demands of their patrons. Undue stress

must be laid upon accomplishments, undue cramming must be encouraged,

the period of study being far too short; the methods of teaching must

be empirical rather than scientific, and the end aimed at temporary

and unreal, having no relation to life beyond the examination and the

class-room. Our best private schools are indeed admirable, but there is

no recognized standard of worth, and the bad are as ten to one. Besides,

in apparatus, cabinets, libraries, and professorships, the richest among

them is poor, compared with the richer colleges. There is but so much

first-rate teaching capacity existent at any one time, and the larger

salaries, honors, and pleasant conditions of the colleges inevitably

absorb the most of it. Agassiz thought that a young student would gain

more from coming into contact for a single month with a man of really

profound knowledge on any subject than he could from many months spent

under the tutelage of one who himself knows but very little more than

he attempts to teach. But the majority of teachers fall into this latter

classification. Even the women’s colleges, proposing the same curriculum

as the men’s, deserving the most sincere respect for their aims and

their successes, must long be hampered by the difficulty of securing the

ablest teaching talent and appliances. The best high-class boys’ schools

are conceded to be those which send the best equipped candidates to the

universities. Were pupils from the girls’ schools admitted to the same

examinations, there is no doubt that their standards and their methods of

teaching would immediately advance.

If, however, the health of our girls is threatened by hard study, further

opportunities of self-immolation must, of course, be denied them. The

average health of boarding-schools is indeed low. From the graded and

normal schools girls are withdrawn more frequently than boys by reason of

physical inability. But the monstrousness of the prevailing curriculum,

the high pressure, bad dressing, bad diet, external distractions, and

the almost total want of healthful exercise among girls, explain this

difference. The experience of twelve years at Ann Arbor, of eight at

Cornell, of nine at Boston University, of much longer terms at the Ohio

colleges, and of the entire existence of Vassar and Smith, testifies to

a constant improvement in the health of their girls, and a wholesome and

preservative power in severe study, provided the conditions are right.

If it be true that the higher the civilization, the more nearly is

companionship of the sexes reached, it seems a paradox that they should

be united everywhere except in study, the most refining and least

self-conscious of employments. Yet there is a general feeling that some

vague danger, to manners if not to morals, lurks in the demand for the

admission of girls to the precincts of the college. When the trustees

of Cornell were debating the wisdom of accepting the munificent Sage

endowment, with its conditions, their committee gathered the opinions of

nearly all the educators of note in the country as to the feasibility

and propriety of opening the classes to women. The speculations of

the officers of the older colleges (inheriting their traditions from

semi-monastic institutions, founded and administered by men vowed to

celibacy, and dreading the influence of women,) almost uniformly

discouraged and disapproved such a step. The testimony of the colleges

already open to both sexes, of academies and high-schools, in the hands

of men touching life at more points, with equal uniformity encouraged

it. In theory it was averred that the girls would become mannish, or

the boys effeminate; that the standard of scholarship would be lowered

in concession to feminine limitations; and that sentimentalism would be

developed, with a consequent deterioration of morals. In practice it was

proved that while the boys acquired finer manners, the girls advanced in

truthfulness, sincerity, and courage; that the standard of scholarship

was raised, and that the predicted period of sentimentalism, though

everywhere overdue, had persistently failed to appear. Cornell took

the forward step, and President White adds the great weight of his own

approval to the side of the innovators.

By some subtle process of reasoning, quite inscrutable to the ordinary

mind, it is maintained, however, that though co-education may do for the

bucolical regions of Michigan and Cornell universities, the metropolis,

as represented by Columbia College, cannot with propriety extend her

lectures and examinations to girls. But what, then, shall be thought of

Cambridge? For, after all, the experience of the great English university

offers the best precedent, since the demand upon her was almost identical

with that made to-day upon Columbia. It is, perhaps, twenty-five years

since the English advocates of the higher education of women began

to feel that their educational advantages could never equal those of

men, until not only the subjects taught should be the same, but the

teachers of equal and equally acknowledged ability. In ten years this

feeling organized itself into the opening to them of the Cambridge local

examinations, which are simply for standing. A little later the famous

Girton College was founded, its object being “to hold in relation to

girls’ schools and to home teaching a position analogous to that occupied

by the universities toward the public schools for boys,” and “to obtain

for the students of the college admission to the examinations for degrees

of the University of Cambridge, and generally to place the college in

connection with that University.” It was understood that the immediate

instruction should be given daily by the professors, lecturers, and

fellows of the University and its colleges.

The new college went into operation with six students, in a hired

building, in October, 1869. It now possesses a building of its own, and

even in its first decade recorded the admission of eighty-six candidates,

of whom nineteen were graduated with honors, according to the university

standard, and eleven passed the examinations which qualify for the degree

of Bachelor of Arts. These examinations, however, presented only an honor

standard, and it was not until February, 1881, that the liberal action

of the Senate placed women students of Cambridge, for all practical

purposes, upon an equal footing with men. In 1875 Newnham Hall was

erected for the accommodation of women students coming to Cambridge to

avail themselves of the new opportunities. Newnham Hostel was presently

added, and the two, constituting Newnham College, to-day overflow with

students.

Following on the Cambridge success came the opening, at Oxford, of

Lady Margaret Hall and Somerville College, the free admission of women

to the examinations of the University of London, and the granting

of liberal opportunities on the part of Edinburgh, Dublin, Glasgow,

Aberdeen, Durham, and St. Andrews. The University of London is a young

institution, unhampered by the prejudices and restrictions of its

elders. “Hence it has been able to take a more decisive step than any

other university in the direction of improvement in women’s education.

For several years it tried the experiment of a special examination for

women, with a curriculum framed in supposed deference to special feminine

needs. But though many women availed themselves of this examination,

it soon became evident that the successes they won were all on the

old lines—in classics, science, mathematics, literature; in fact, the

subjects which belong to an ordinary course of liberal education, and

not in any of the special studies which were presumed to be appropriate

for them as women. Moreover, it was manifest that a distinctly feminine

examination was not what women wanted; for the public believed that it

was inferior, or specially lenient, whereas female students desired to

have their knowledge and intellectual cultivation tested by the ordinary

and recognized standards, and asked for no special tenderness or favor.

Accordingly, after much discussion, it was determined, in 1877, to

obtain from the crown a new charter, _admitting women on exactly the

same footing as men to all the degrees in all the faculties_—arts,

laws, medicine, science, music—and permitting them to receive the same

honors and degrees. An increasing number of women has each year come up

for matriculation and graduation, and some of the successes they have

attained have been remarkable. The gold medal in anatomy—one of the chief

and most coveted prizes in the medical profession—was won last year by

a woman. Another came out first in mental and moral philosophy, and the

proportion of women who pass _well_ in the examinations is much greater

than that of the men. This, however, is easily accounted for by the fact

that at present the numbers are much smaller, and are necessarily made

up of students of exceptional ability and enterprise; whereas the crowds

of men, of course, include a large number of the rank and file of those

who are treading the usual path towards professional life, and who have

no special aptitude or enthusiasm for study.” This is the testimony of J.

G. Fitch, Esquire, inspector of schools, member of the senate of London

University, and one of the most distinguished educators of England.

Professor Jackson, of Trinity College, Cambridge, writes:

“Having taken classes of ladies through the Ethics and part of

the Metaphysics of Aristotle, and the ‘Republic,’ the ‘Phaedo,’

and the ‘Philetus’ of Plato, I can speak in the very highest

terms of their industry and capacity. I put their attention to

a severe test, as I sometimes lectured for an hour and a half,

and even for an hour and three-quarters without interruption.

As a proof of their capacity, I may mention that at the end of

the Academic year, 1877-78, I examined some of my lady pupils

in the Aristotle papers, which I was giving to the Trinity

men who graduated in 1879, and the Plato papers which I was

giving to the Trinity men who graduated in 1880, and that one

of the ladies was third in Aristotle and first in Plato. In the

following year another lady was second in my Aristotle paper.

In both cases these ladies had among their competitors some of

the very best men of the time.”

J. P. Postgate, Esquire, M.A., Fellow of Trinity, and Professor of

University College, London, writes:

“The performances of women in examinations at Cambridge and

elsewhere I look upon as wholly encouraging. The standard by

which I should test them is an absolute one, and judged by

that they show work which is intrinsically good and worth

doing. I have been surprised at the numbers of first-class and

other distinctions that they have gained. Both at Cambridge

and at University College the women not unfrequently beat

the men in the lists. Last year two-thirds of those examined

in Comparative Philology were women; and a woman was easily

first in the paper, beating another very good candidate, a

man who has since taken a scholarship at Oxford, I believe.

She did extremely well in the paper, and has been working at

the subject since, and showing a very remarkable linguistic

aptitude not merely in ancient, but in modern languages. The

third candidate was a young lady who has since brought out a

Hebrew grammar, which I believe is very well done. She also

distinguished herself in Greek and Latin.”

From the other colleges come equally favorable reports of feminine

application, persistency, and accomplishment. Here, then, are some

hundreds of women doing the same tasks as men, submitting to the same

tests as men, showing at least as good work as men, without injury to

their health. For no complaint of physical inability comes from any

source; while at Girton the pleasant apartment thoughtfully provided

as a hospital for the delicate women who were to break down under the

strain of constant brain-work has never been used except as a room for

examinations. Equally satisfactory is the testimony to the moral safety

of the new system, not the slightest suggestion of impropriety having

arisen.

Woman and the higher education · 第 4 / 10 段