“My father was an American, my mother English. I was born near Epsom and
lived there ten years. Then my father had property left him in
Massachusetts, and we went to Boston. Both my parents educated me, and
began very early. I observe that most parents are babies at teaching,
compared with mine. My father was a linguist, and taught me to lisp
German, French, and English; my mother was an ideaed woman: she taught me
three rarities--attention, observation, and accuracy. If I went a walk in
the country, I had to bring her home a budget: the men and women on the
road, their dresses, appearance, countenances, and words; every kind of
bird in the air, and insect and chrysalis in the hedges; the crops in the
fields, the flowers and herbs on the banks. If I walked in the town, I
must not be eyes and no eyes; woe betide me if I could only report the
dresses! Really, I have known me, when I was but eight, come home to my
mother laden with details, when perhaps an untrained girl of eighteen
could only have specified that she had gone up and down a thoroughfare.
Another time mother would take me on a visit: next day, or perhaps next
week, she would expect me to describe every article of furniture in her
friend's room, and the books on the table, and repeat the conversation,
the topics at all events. She taught me to master history _accurately._
To do this she was artful enough to turn sport into science. She utilized
a game: young people in Boston play it. A writes an anecdote on paper, or
perhaps produces it in print. She reads it off to B. B goes away, and
writes it down by memory; then reads her writing out to C. C has to
listen, and convey her impression to paper. This she reads to D, and D
goes and writes it. Then the original story and D's version are compared;
and, generally speaking, the difference of the two is a caution--against
oral tradition. When the steps of deviation are observed, it is quite a
study.
“My mother, with her good wit, saw there was something better than fun to
be got out of this. She trained my memory of great things with it. She
began with striking passages of history, and played the game with father
and me. But as my power of retaining, and repeating correctly, grew by
practice, she enlarged the business, and kept enriching my memory, so
that I began to have tracts of history at my fingers' ends. As I grew
older, she extended the sport to laws and the great public controversies
in religion, politics, and philosophy that have agitated the world. But
here she had to get assistance from her learned friends. She was a woman
valued by men of intellect, and she had no mercy--milked jurists,
physicians, and theologians and historians all into my little pail. To be
sure, they were as kind about it as she was unscrupulous. They saw I was
a keen student, and gave my mother many a little gem in writing. She read
them out to me: I listened hard, and thus I fixed many great and good
things in my trained memory; and repeated them against the text: I was
never allowed to see _that._
“With this sharp training, school subjects were child's play to me, and I
won a good many prizes very easily. My mother would not let me waste a
single minute over music. She used to say 'Music extracts what little
brains a girl has. Open the piano, you shut the understanding.' I am
afraid I bore you with my mother.”
“Not at all, not at all. I admire her.”
“Oh, thank you! thank you, sir! She never uses big words; so it is only
of late I have had the _nous_ to see how wise she is. She corrected the
special blots of the female character in me, and it is sweet to me to
talk of that dear friend. What would I give to see her here!”
“Well, then, sir, she made me, as far as she could, a--what shall I say?
a kind of little intellectual gymnast, fit to begin any study; but she
left me to choose my own line. Well, I was for natural history first;
began like a girl; gathered wild flowers and simples at Epsom, along with
an old woman; she discoursed on their traditional virtues, and knew
little of their real properties: _that_ I have discovered since.
“From herbs to living things; never spared a chrysalis, but always took
it home and watched it break into wings. Hung over the ponds in June,
watching the eggs of the frog turn to tadpoles, and the tadpoles to
Johnny Crapaud. I obeyed Scripture in one thing, for I studied the ants
and their ways.
“I collected birds' eggs. At nine, not a boy in the parish could find
more nests in a day than I could. With birdnesting, buying, and now and
then begging, I made a collection that figures in a museum over the
water, and is entitled 'Eggs of British Birds.' The colors attract, and
people always stop at it. But it does no justice whatever to the great
variety of sea-birds' eggs on the coast of Britain.
“When I had learned what little they teach in schools, especially
drawing, and that is useful in scientific pursuits, I was allowed to
choose my own books, and attend lectures. One blessed day I sat and
listened to Agassiz--ah! No tragedy well played, nor opera sung, ever
moved a heart so deeply as he moved mine, that great and earnest man,
whose enthusiasm for nature was as fresh as my own, and his knowledge a
thousand times larger. Talk of heaven opening to the Christian pilgrim as
he passes Jordan! Why, God made earth as well as heaven, and it is worthy
of the Architect; and it is a joy divine when earth opens to the true
admirer of God's works. Sir, earth opened to me, as Agassiz discoursed.
“I followed him about like a little bloodhound, and dived into the
libraries after each subject he treated or touched.
“It was another little epoch in my life when I read 'White's Letters to
Pennant' about natural history in Selborne. Selborne is an English
village, not half so pretty as most; and, until Gilbert White came,
nobody saw anything there worth printing. His book showed me that the
humblest spot in nature becomes extraordinary the moment extraordinary
observation is applied to it. I must mimic Gilbert White directly. I
pestered my poor parents to spend a month or two in the depths of the
country, on the verge of a forest. They yielded, with groans; I kissed
them, and we rusticated. I pried into every living thing, not forgetting
my old friends, the insect tribe. Here I found ants with grander ideas
than they have to home, and satisfied myself they have more brains than
apes. They co-operate more, and in complicated things. Sir, there are
ants that make greater marches, for their size, than Napoleon's invasion
of Russia. Even the less nomad tribes will march through fields of grass,
where each blade is a high gum-tree to them, and never lose the track. I
saw an army of red ants, with generals, captains, and ensigns, start at
daybreak, march across a road, through a hedge, and then through high
grass till noon, and surprise a fortification of black ants, and take it
after a sanguinary resistance. All that must have been planned
beforehand, you know, and carried out to the letter. Once I found a
colony busy on some hard ground, preparing an abode. I happened to have
been microscoping a wasp, so I threw him down among the ants. They were
disgusted. They ran about collecting opinions. Presently half of them
burrowed into the earth below and undermined him, till he lay on a crust
of earth as thin as a wafer, and a deep grave below. Then they all got on
him except one, and He stood pompous on a pebble, and gave orders. The
earth broke--the wasp went down into his grave--and the ants soon covered
him with loose earth, and resumed their domestic architecture. I
concluded that though the monkey resembles man most in body, the ant
comes nearer him in mind. As for dogs, I don't know where to rank them in
_nature,_ because they have been pupils of man for centuries. I bore
you?”
“No.”
“Oh, yes, I do: an enthusiast is always a bore. 'Les facheux,' of Moliere
are just enthusiasts. Well, sir, in one word, I was a natural
philosopher--very small, but earnest; and, in due course, my studies
brought me to the wonders of the human body. I studied the outlines of
anatomy in books, and plates, and prepared figures; and from that, by
degrees, I was led on to surgery and medicine--in books, you understand;
and they are only half the battle. Medicine is a thing one can do. It is
a noble science, a practical science, and a subtle science, where I
thought my powers of study and observation might help me to be keen at
reading symptoms, and do good to man, and be a famous woman; so I
concluded to benefit mankind and myself. Stop! that sounds like
self-deception. It must have been myself and mankind I concluded to
benefit. Anyway, I pestered that small section of mankind which consisted
of my parents, until they consented to let me study medicine in Europe.”
“What, all by yourself?”
“Yes. Oh, girls are very independent in the States, and govern the old
people. Mine said 'No' a few dozen times; but they were bound to end in
'Yes,' and I went to Zurich. I studied hard there, and earned the
approbation of the professors. But the school deteriorated; too many
ladies poured in from Russia: some were not in earnest, and preferred
flirting to study, and did themselves no good, and made the male students
idle, and wickeder than ever--if possible.”
“What else could you expect?” said Vizard.
“Nothing else from _unpicked_ women. But when all the schools in Europe
shall be open--as they ought to be, and must, and shall--there will be no
danger of shallow girls crowding to any particular school. Besides, there
will be a more strict and rapid routine of examination then to sift out
the female flirts and the male dunces along with them, I hope.
“Well, sir, we few, that really meant medicine, made inquiries, and heard
of a famous old school in the south of France, where women had graduated
of old; and two of us went there to try--an Italian lady and myself. We
carried good testimonials from Zurich, and, not to frighten the Frenchmen
at starting, I attacked them alone. Cornelia was my elder, and my
superior in attainments. She was a true descendant of those learned
ladies who have adorned the chairs of philosophy, jurisprudence, anatomy,
and medicine in her native country; but she has the wisdom of the
serpent, as well as of the sage; and she put me forward because of my red
hair. She said that would be a passport to the dark philosophers of
France.”
“Was not that rather foxy, Miss Gale?”
“Foxy as my hair itself, Mr. Vizard.
“Well, I applied to a professor. He received me with profound courtesy
and feigned respect, but was staggered at my request to matriculate. He
gesticulated and bowed _'a la Francaise,_ and begged the permission of
his foxy-haired invader from Northern climes to consult his colleagues.
Would I do him the great honor to call again next day at twelve? I did
and met three other polished authorities. One spoke for all, and said, If
I had not brought with me proofs of serious study, they should have
dissuaded me very earnestly from a science I could not graduate in
without going through practical courses of anatomy and clinical surgery.
That, however (with a regular French shrug), was my business, not theirs.
It was not for them to teach me delicacy, but rather to learn it from me.
That was a French sneer. The French are _un gens moqueur,_ you know. I
received both shrug and sneer like marble. He ended it all by saying the
school had no written law excluding doctresses; and the old records
proved women had graduated, and even lectured, there. I had only to pay
my fees, and enter upon my routine of studies. So I was admitted on
sufferance; but I soon earned the good opinion of the professors, and of
this one in particular; and then Cornelia applied for admission, and was
let in too. We lived together, and had no secrets; and I think, sir, I
may venture to say that we showed some little wisdom, if you consider our
age, and all that was done to spoil us. As to parrying their little sly
attempts at flirtation, that is nothing; we came prepared. But, when our
fellow-students found we were in earnest, and had high views, the
chivalrous spirit of a gallant nation took fire, and they treated us with
a delicate reverence that might have turned any woman's head. But we had
the credit of a sneered-at sex to keep up, and felt our danger, and
warned each other; and I remember I told Cornelia how many young ladies
in the States I had seen puffed up by the men's extravagant homage, and
become spoiled children, and offensively arrogant and discourteous; so I
entreated her to check those vices in me the moment she saw them coming.
“When we had been here a year, attending all the lectures--clinical
medicine and surgery included--news came that one British school,
Edinburgh, had shown symptoms of yielding to Continental civilization and
relaxing monopoly. That turned me North directly. My mother is English: I
wanted to be a British doctress, not a French. Cornelia had misgivings,
and even condescended to cry over me. But I am a mule, and always was.
Then that dear friend made terms with me: I must not break off my
connection with the French school, she said. No; she had thought it well
over; I must ask leave of the French professors to study in the North,
and bring back notes about those distant Thulians. Says she, 'Your
studies in that savage island will be allowed to go for something here,
if you improve your time--and you will be sure to, sweetheart--that I
may be always proud of you.' Dear Cornelia!”
“Am I to believe all this?” said Vizard. “Can women be such true
friends?”
“What cannot women be? What! are you one of those who take us for a
_clique?_ Don't you know more than half mankind are women?”
“Alas!”
“Alas for them!” said Rhoda, sharply.
“Well, well,” said Vizard, putting on sudden humility, “don't let us
quarrel. I hate quarreling--where I'm sure to get the worst. Ay,
friendship is a fine thing, in men or women; a far nobler sentiment than
love. You will not admit that, of course, being a woman.”
“Oh, yes, I will,” said she. “Why, I have observed love attentively; and
I pronounce it a fever of the mind. It disturbs the judgment and perverts
the conscience. You side with the beloved, right or wrong. What personal
degradation! I observe, too, that a grand passion is a grand misfortune:
they are always in a storm of hope, fears, doubt, jealousy, rapture,
rage, and the end deceit, or else satiety. Friendship is steady and
peaceful; not much jealousy, no heart-burnings. It strengthens with time,
and survives the small-pox and a wooden leg. It doubles our joys, and
divides our grief, and lights and warms our lives with a steady flame.
_Solem e mundo tollunt, qui tollunt amicitiam.”_
“Halloo!” cried Vizard. “What! you know Latin too?”
“Why, of course--a smattering; or how could I read Pliny, and Celsus, and
ever so much more rubbish that custom chucks down before the gates of
knowledge, and says, 'There--before you go the right road, you ought to
go the wrong; _it is usual._ Study now, with the reverence they don't
deserve, the non-observers of antiquity.'”
“Spare me the ancients, Miss Gale,” said Vizard, “and reveal me the girl
of the period. When I was so ill-bred as to interrupt you, you had left
France, crowned with laurels, and were just invading Britain.”
Something in his words or his tone discouraged the subtle observer, and
she said, coldly, “Excuse me: I have hardly the courage. My British
history is a tale of injustice, suffering, insult, and, worst of all,
defeat. I cannot promise to relate it with that composure whoever
pretends to science ought: the wound still bleeds.”
Then Vizard was vexed with himself, and looked grave and concerned. He
said, gently, “Miss Gale, I am sorry to give you pain; but what you have
told me is so new and interesting, I shall be disappointed if you
withhold the rest: besides, you know it gives no lasting pain to relate
our griefs. Come, come--be brave, and tell me.”
“Well, I will,” said she. “Indeed, some instinct moves me. Good may come
of my telling it you. I think--somehow--you are--a--just--man.”
In the act of saying this, she fixed her gray eyes steadily and
searchingly upon Vizard's face, so that he could scarcely meet them, they
were so powerful; then, suddenly, the observation seemed to die out of
them, and reflection to take its place: those darting eyes were turned
inward. It was a marked variety of power. There was something wizard-like
in the vividness with which two distinct mental processes were presented
by the varied action of a single organ; and Vizard then began to suspect
that a creature stood before him with a power of discerning and digesting
truth, such as he had not yet encountered either in man or woman. She
entered on her British adventures in her clear silvery voice. It was not,
like Ina Klosking's, rich, and deep, and tender; yet it had a certain
gentle beauty to those who love truth, because it was dispassionate, yet
expressive, and cool, yet not cold. One might call it truth's silver
trumpet.
On the brink of an extraordinary passage, I pause to make no fewer than
three remarks in my own person: 1st. Let no reader of mine allow himself
to fancy Rhoda Gale and her antecedents are a mere excrescence of my
story. She was rooted to it even before the first scene of it--the
meeting of Ashmead and the Klosking--and this will soon appear. 2d. She
is now going into a controverted matter; and, though she is sincere and
truthful, she is of necessity a _partisan._ Do not take her for a judge.
You be the judge. 3d. But, as a judge never shuts his mind to either
side, do not refuse her a fair hearing. Above all, do not underrate the
question. Let not the balance of your understanding be so upset by
ephemeral childishness as to fancy that it matters much whether you break
an egg top or bottom, because Gulliver's two nations went to war about
it; or that it matters much whether your queen is called queen of India
or empress, because two parties made a noise about it, and the country
has wasted ten thousand square miles of good paper on the subject,
trivial as the dust on a butterfly's wing. Fight against these illusions
of petty and ephemeral minds. It does not matter the millionth of a straw
to _mankind_ whether any one woman is called queen, or empress, of India;
and it matters greatly to mankind whether the whole race of women are to
be allowed to study medicine and practice it, if they can rival the male,
or are to be debarred from testing their scientific ability, and so
outlawed, _though taxed_ in defiance of British liberty, and all justice,
human and divine, by eleven hundred lawgivers--most of 'em fools.