FOOTNOTES:

'When all the world seems adverse to desert.'"

Both of these noble women had the same quality in common—absolute devotion and unswerving faith in those to whose success and happiness they had dedicated their lives. They sought nothing for themselves, they thought nothing of themselves. They both had, to borrow the idea of another,an intense power of sympathy, a generous love of giving themselves to the service of others, which enabled them to transfuse the force of their own personality into the objects to which they dedicated their powers.

In the preface of the joint work of Mr. and Mrs. Agassiz entitledA Journey in Brazil, that delightful volume which throws such a flood of light on the fauna and flora of the Amazon valley, occur the following significant words regarding the share each had in producing the book: "Our separate contributions have become so closely interwoven that we should hardly know how to disconnect them." So was it with all their undertakings. There was the same common interest, the same unity of purpose, the same unselfish devotion to the cause of science during those long years of toil which were so prolific in results of supreme importance. Reading between the lines inA Journey in Brazil, and inLouis Agassiz, His Life and Correspondence, written by Mrs. Agassiz, we can easily fancy that the great naturalist owed as much, if not more, to his wife's never-failing sympathy and inspiration as to her active coöperation in his work, and we are ready to apply to her the words of Longfellow when he sings:

"And whenever the way seemed long,Or his heart began to fail,She would sing a more wonderful songOr tell a more wonderful tale."

As to Caroline Herschel as a helper and sustainer of her illustrious brother, too much cannot be said. "In the days when he gave up a lucrative career that he might devote himself to astronomy, it was owing to her thrift and care that he was not harassed by the rankling vexations of money matters. She had been his helper and assistant when he was a leading musician; she became his helper and assistant when he gave himself up to astronomy. By sheer force of will and devoted affection she learned enoughof mathematics and of methods of calculation, which to those unlearned seem mysteries, to be able to commit to writing his researches. She became his assistant in the workshop; she helped him to grind and polish his mirrors; she stood beside his telescope in the nights of midwinter, to write down his observations when the very ink was frozen in the bottle. She kept him alive by her care; thinking nothing of herself, she lived for him. She loved him and believed in him, and helped him with all her heart and with all her strength. She might have become a distinguished woman on her own account, for with the seven-foot Newtonian sweeper given her by her brother she discovered eight comets first and last. But the pleasure of seeking and finding for herself was scarcely tested. She 'minded the heavens' for her brother; she worked for him, not for herself, and the unconscious self-denial with which she gave up 'her own pleasure in the use of her sweeper' is not the least beautiful picture in her life."[249]

While recounting the achievements of women who directly or indirectly contributed to our knowledge of the earth and what it contains we cannot forget what the world owes to the gracious and glorious Isabella of Castile. For it is to her probably as much as to Columbus that a new continent was discovered at the close of the fifteenth century. For, while the doctors of Salamanca—most of whom were what Galileo called "paper philosophers," men who fancied that a correct knowledge of the physical universe was to be obtained by a collation of ancient texts—were denouncing the great navigator as an idle dreamer, and quoting the ill-founded notions of Pliny and Aristotle to prove the impossibility of his carrying out his project, Isabella was quietly revolving in her own mind the reasons which Columbus had adduced in favor of his great enterprise. Having satisfied herself that his views were sufficientlyprobable to justify action, she was prepared to make any sacrifices to have his plans executed. The result of her decision is but another illustration of the value of woman's quick intuition, as against the slow reasoning processes of philosophers and men of science.

Again, while considering what women have accomplished for the advancement of science by inspiration and collaboration, we must not lose sight of what they have done by suggestion. For, as John Stuart Mill well observes: "It no doubt often happens that a person who has not widely and accurately studied the thoughts of others on a subject has by natural sagacity a happy intuition which he can suggest but cannot prove, which yet, when matured, may be an important addition to knowledge: but, even then, no justice can be done to it until some other person, who does possess the previous acquirements, takes it in hand, tests it, gives it a scientific or practical form, and fits it into its place among the existing truths of philosophy or science. Is it supposed that such felicitous thoughts do not occur to women? They occur by hundreds to every woman of intellect; but they are mostly lost for want of a husband or friend who has the other knowledge which can enable him to estimate them properly and bring them before the world; and, even when they are brought before it, they usually appear as his ideas, not their real author's. Who can tell how many of the original thoughts put forth by male writers belong to a woman by suggestion, to themselves only by verifying and working out? If I may judge by my own case, a very large proportion indeed."[250]

Nor should we forget those active and energetic women—and their number is much greater than is ordinarily supposed—whose husbands, although often endowed with genius of the highest order, were indolent by temperament and disorderly and unmethodical by nature. Such men would, in the majority of cases, have run to seed had not their genius been given special force and impulse by their vigorous and methodical helpmates. Sir William Hamilton, the most learned philosopher of the Scottish school, is a striking instance in point; for it was due almost entirely to the stimulation he received from his ever active wife that he was always kept keyed up to his fullest working capacity as a philosopher and became recognized the world over as one of the commanding intellects of his age.

"Lady Hamilton," writes Professor Veitch in hisMemoir of Sir William Hamilton,"had a power of keeping her husband up to what he had to do. She contended wisely against a sort of energetic indolence which characterized him, and which, while he was always laboring, made him apt to put aside the task actually before him, sometimes diverted by subjects of inquiry suggested in the course of study on the matter in hand, sometimes discouraged by the difficulty of reducing to order the immense mass of materialshe had accumulated in connection with it. Then her resolution and cheerful disposition sustained and refreshed him, and never more so than when, during the last twelve years of his life, his bodily strength was broken and his spirit, though languid, yet ceased not from mental toil. The truth is that Sir William's marriage, his comparatively limited circumstances, and the character of his wife supplied to a nature that would have been contented to spend its mighty energies in work that brought no reward but in the doing of it, and that might never have been made publicly known or available, the practical force and impulse which enabled him to accomplish what he actually did in literature and philosophy. It was this influence, without doubt, which saved him from utter absorption in his world of rare, noble and elevated but ever-increasingly unattainable ideas. But for it the serene sea of abstract thought might have held him becalmed for life; and, in the absence of all utterance of definite knowledge of his conclusions, the world might have been left to an ignorant and mysterious wonder about the unprofitable scholar."[251]

What has been so far said, important as it is, does not tell the whole story of woman's influence on men of science, and consequently on the progress of science. We should not have an adequate conception of women as inspirers and collaborators if we did not advert to certain faculties which they usually possess in a more eminent degree than the most of men. It is a well-known fact that in many of the affairs of life women are more practical, have more tact, and possess keener and quicker perceptions than men. They are, too, more ideal, more romantic and more enthusiastic.

Men of science in their investigations usually proceed by the slow and laborious process of collecting facts and collating phenomena, either by observation or experiment, or both, and, from the observed facts and phenomena, they formulate a law which explains and correlates them. This is known as induction, a method which proceeds from facts to ideas.

Women, on the contrary, are rather disposed to proceed from ideas to facts; to explain phenomena from ideas which already exist in the mind, without having recourse to the slow process of induction. This is the deductive method, and is the very reverse of that employed by the average man of science. It would, however, be a mistake to maintain that the inductive method is always employed, for such is not the case. More than a half a century ago the historian, Buckle, in a notable lecture delivered in the Royal Institution of Great Britain, directed attention to the fact that some of the greatest scientific discoveries had been made by the deductive method.

One of these was Newton's epoch-making discovery of universal gravitation. While sitting in a garden he sawan apple fall, and this simple fact caused him to advance from idea to idea, and to be carried, by what Tyndall loved to call "the scientific use of the imagination," into the distant realms of space. And, heedless of the operations of nature, neither observing nor experimenting, the great philosopher, by purea priorireasoning, "completed the most sublime and majestic speculation that it ever entered into the heart of man to conceive." "It was," as Buckle well observes, "the triumph of an idea. It was the audacity of genius." It was also the triumph of the deductive method in the solution of a problem that one not a genius could have worked out only by the long and toilsome process of induction.

Similarly, the great law of metamorphosis in plants, "according to which the stamens, pistils, corollas, bracts, petals and so forth, of every plant, are simply modified leaves," was discovered not by an inductive investigator, but by a poet. "Guided by his brilliant imagination, his passion for beauty and his exquisite conception of form which supplied him with ideas," Germany's greatest poet, Goethe, by reasoning deductively, was able to generalize a law which lesser minds could never have arrived at except through the application of the inductive method.

So also was it in the science of crystallography. Its foundations were laid, not by a mineralogist nor a mathematician, as one would suppose, but by one of strong imagination and marked poetic temperament. Like Goethe, Haüy was led by his ideas of beauty and symmetry to work deductively on the problem before him. Descending from ideas to facts, he finally succeeded, after a long series of subsequent labors, in reading "the riddle which had baffled his able but unimaginative predecessors."

It is the possession of this deductive faculty, so characteristic of men of genius—their ability to reach conclusions directly, as great mathematicians perceive inferences which those less gifted reach only after pages of elaborate calculations—whichenable women, "not indeed to make scientific discoveries, but to exercise the most momentous and salutary influence over the method by which scientific discoveries are made." For, as Buckle points out, men of science are too inclined to employ the inductive method to the exclusion of the deductive.[252]They have become slaves to the tyranny of facts, and, as such, are incompetent to further the progress of science as they would by using both methods instead of one. And their slavery would be still more complete and ignominious were it not for the great though unconscious service to science rendered by women who have kept alive the deductive habit of thought. "Their turn of thought, their habits of mind, their conversation, their influence, insensibly extending over the whole surface of society and frequently penetrating its intimate structure, have, more than all other things put together, tended to raise us up into an ideal world, lift us from the dust in which we are too prone to grovel, and develop in us those germs of imagination which even the most sluggish and apathetic understandings in some degree possess."

From the foregoing observations it is manifest that the best results to science are secured when men and women work together—men supplying the slow, logical reasoningpower, women the vivid, far-reaching imagination; men generalizing from facts, women from ideas; men working chiefly by induction, women principally by deduction. For thus collaborating, each with his or her predominant faculties, the two combined possess in a measure the elements which go to make up a man or woman of genius and which enable them to achieve far more for the advancement of science than would otherwise be possible.

No one has ever given more eloquent expression to this truth than John Stuart Mill, who was as keen as an observer as he was profound as a thinker. Writing on the subject under discussion, he does not hesitate to say: "Hardly anything can be of greater value to a man of theory and speculation who employs himself, not in collecting materials of knowledge by observation, but in working them up by processes of thought into comprehensive truths of science and laws of conduct, than to carry on his speculations in the companionship and under the criticism of a really superior woman. There is nothing comparable to it for keeping his thoughts within the limits of real things and the actual facts of nature. A woman seldom runs wild after an abstraction.... Women's thoughts are thus as useful in giving reality to those of thinking men as men's thoughts in giving width and largeness to those of women. In depth, as distinguished from breadth, I greatly doubt if even now women, compared with men, are at any disadvantage."[253]

We have already learned, from his own avowal, how much Mill was beholden to his wife for her active coöperation in the production of those works of his which have exerted so profound an influence on many phases of modern thought. A more striking illustration of the value of woman's assistance, but in the domain of biology, is found in the biography of the late Professor Huxley. By thosewho know this distinguished man of science—so remarkable for his intellectual vigor—only from his writings, the impression would be gleaned that he was one of the most independent of thinkers, and that his utterances on all subjects were absolutely personal and entirely unmodified by suggestion or criticism from any quarter.

How far this view is from being correct is found in the statement by his son that his father "invariably submitted his writings to the criticism of his wife before they were seen by any other eye. To her judgment was due the toning down of many a passage which erred by excess of vigor, and the clearing up of phrases which would be obscure to the public. In fact, if any essay met with her approval, he felt sure it would not fail of its effect when published."[254]She was not only his "help and stay for forty years; in his struggles ready to counsel, in adversity to comfort," but, over and above this, she was "the critic whose judgment he valued above almost any, and whose praise he cared most to win"—the other self who made his life work possible.[255]

An intelligent, sympathetic pair of this kind—and this, as we have seen, is but one of a multitude which illuminates and beautifies the history of science—are competent to achieve wonders. They are like "the two-celled heart beating with one full stroke"—

"Two plummets dropt for one to sound the abyssOf science, and the secrets of the mind."

The woman is then truly, as De Lamennais in Scriptural phrases has it, "Man's companion, man's assistant, bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh," and, in her sublime and endearing character so complete in every relation of life,she fully answers to the beautiful characterization which Adam, inParadise Lost, gives of his beloved Eve:

"So absolute she seems,And in herself complete, so well to knowHer own, that what she wills to do or saySeems wisest, virtuosest, discreetest, best....*...*...*...*Authority and reason on her wait,...*...*...*...** * * and, to consummate all,Greatness of mind and nobleness their seatBuild in her loveliest, and create an aweAbout her, as a guard angelic plac'd."

"So absolute she seems,And in herself complete, so well to knowHer own, that what she wills to do or saySeems wisest, virtuosest, discreetest, best.

...*...*...*...*

Authority and reason on her wait,

...*...*...*...*

* * * and, to consummate all,Greatness of mind and nobleness their seatBuild in her loveliest, and create an aweAbout her, as a guard angelic plac'd."

FOOTNOTES:[233]Sis oppido meminens quod olim Martia Hortensio, Terentia Tullio, Calpurnia Plinio, Pudentilla Apuleio, Rusticana Symmacho legentibus meditantibusque candelas and candelabra tenuerunt. Lib. II, Epist. 10.[234]"Verum hoc—seu gratitudini seu ineptiæ ascribendum—non sileo, me quantulucunque conspicis, per illam esse, nec unquam ad hoc, si quid est nominis aut gloriæ fuisse venturum, nisi virtutum tenuissman sementem, quasi pectore in hoc natura locaverat, nobilissimis his affectibus coluisset." Francisci Petrarchæ,Colloquiorum Liber quem Secretum Suum Inscripsit, pp. 105-106, Berne, 1603.In his canzone beginning with the wordsPerchè la vita e breve, Petrarch declares to his inspirer—"Thus if in me is nurstAny good fruit, from you the seed came first;To you, if such appear, the praise is due,Barren myself till fertilized by you."[235]The Life of St. Francis of Assisi, by Paul Sabatier, p. 166, New York, 1894.[236]Ibid., p. 167.[237]Ibid., p. 307.[238]The Women of the Renaissance, p. 394, New York, 1901.[239]Women of Florence, by Isodoro del Lungo, p. xxvii, London, 1907.[240]This passage from the dedication is so important that I reproduce the Latin original: "Omnino vitam, aut, si quid mihi carius est, vobis autem debeo, tibi autem, o diva Melusinis, omne presertim Mathematicis studium, ad quod me excitavit tum tuus in earn amor, tum summa artis illius, quam tenes, peritia, immo vero nunquam satis admiranda in tuo tamque regii et nobilis generis sexu Encyclopædia."François Viète, Inventeur de l'Algèbre Moderne, p. 20, par Frederic Ritter, Paris, 1895.[241]"E nell' amore della figlia il grande astronomo trovò non soltanto un conforto a suoi affanni, ma anche una guida benefica alla quale sembrò egli abandonarsi con cieca tenerezza figliale."La Storia del Feminismo, p. 509, by G. L. Arrighi, Florence, 1911.[242]Galileo Galilei e Suor Celeste, by Antonio Favaro, p. 256 et seq., Florence, 1891.[243]An English writer, discussing this subject, pertinently observes: "For, after all, is it not the personal incidents and commonplaces of life that gather interest as the centuries roll on, while its more pretentious events often drop into mere literary lumber? How much more interesting Dr. Johnson's incidental admission, 'I have a strong inclination, Sir, to do nothing to-day,' is to us now than many of his more formal utterances. And, in reality, is it the personal element alone that is in the long run perennial? The wise may prate as they will about the importance of maintaining the continuity of history and of handing on the torch of science. The world cares for none of these things; they interest only some few political economists and laborious men. What does the crowd and poor little Tom Jones and his nestful, for instance, care about the fact that Cheops was—at any rate by courteous tradition—a mighty man of valor of such an era and land? But little Tom Jones and the rest of us would become mightily interested in this misty monster of many traditions, could we learn in some magical way all he thought, hated and loved in his inmost heart of hearts."The National Review, p. 461, June, 1889.[244]The Duke of Peiresc, in a letter to Gassendi, regarding Galileo, refers to certain letters—très belles epistres—of the great philosopher, "à une sienne fille religieuse sur le sujet mesme des matières traictèes en son dernier livre." This shows that Sister Celeste was kept fully informed by her father respecting the nature and contents of his various works while he was preparing them for the press. It implies, likewise, that she was not only interested in them in a general way, but that she was able to read them intelligently and appreciate them as well.How fondly Galileo treasured the letters written him by this daughter of predilection is made known to us by Sister Celeste herself, when she tells him in one of her letters "Resto confusa sentendo ch'ella conservi le mie lettere, e dubito che il grande affeto que mi porta gliele dimonstri piu compita di quello che sono." Op. cit., p. 317.[245]Op. cit., p. 404.[246]In the dedication of hisPrinciples of Philosophyhe addresses his young friend and pupil in the following words: "Je puis dire avec verité que je ne jamais rencontré que le seul esprit de votre altesse auquel l'un et l'autre"—metaphysics and mathematics—"fût également facile; ce qui fait quo j'ai une très juste raison de l'estimer incomparable."[247]Geology and Mineralogy Considered with Reference to Natural Theology, by William Buckland, p. xxxvi, London, 1858.[248]Pasteur, by Mr. and Mrs. Percy Frankland, p. 26 et seq., London, 1898. A French writer referring to this happy discovery expresses himself as follows: "Quand Pasteur trouva le vaccin de charbon, il remonta triomphant de son laboratoire et les larmes lui vinrent aux yeux en embrassant sa femme et sa fille auxquelles annoncait sa victoire."Revue Encyclopédique, p. 20, Jan. 15, 1895.[249]Memoir and Correspondence of Caroline Herschel, London, 1879, pp. vi and vii, by Mrs. John Herschel. Cf. Chap. IV of this Vol.[250]The Subjection of Women, pp. 98, 99, London, 1909.The idea herein expressed is beautifully accentuated in the touching dedication to the author's work On Liberty, which reads as follows:"To the beloved and deplored memory of her who was the inspirer, and in part the author, of all that is best in my writings—the friend and wife whose exalted sense of truth and right was my strongest incitement, and whose approbation was my chief reward—I dedicate this volume. Like all that I have written for many years, it belongs as much to her as to me; but the work as it stands has had, in a very insufficient degree, the inestimable advantage of her revision, some of the most important portions having been reserved for a more careful re-examination, which they are now never destined to receive. Were I but capable of interpreting to the world one-half the great thoughts and noble feelings which are buried in her grave, I should be the medium of a greater benefit to it than is ever likely to arise from anything I can write, unprompted and unassisted by her all but unrivalled wisdom."The chivalrous sentiments expressed in this generous tribute by one of the deepest thinkers of his time, to the memory of his noble and gifted life-companion, extravagant as they may seem, are but echoes of similar sentiments often voiced before by the world's greatest leaders of thought and science.[251]Memoir of Sir William Hamilton, by John Veitch, p. 136 et seq., Edinburgh, 1869.It is frequently said that women, unlike men, are indifferent to fame. This may be true so far as they are personally concerned; but it is certainly not true of them in regard to their husbands, or the men for whom they have a genuine affection. This is abundantly proved by the lives of Mme. Huber, Mme. Pasteur, Caroline Herschel and Lady Hamilton, not to name others who have been mentioned in the foregoing pages. After Sir William Hamilton, at the age of fifty-six, had been stricken by hemiplegia on the right side, as the result of over-work, his faithful wife became for twelve years eyes, hands and even mind for him. She read and consulted books for him, and helped him to prepare his lectures and the works which have given him such celebrity. "Everything that was sent to the press and all the courses of lectures were written by her, either to dictation or from copy." And when we remember that the lectures and books were of the most abstruse character and that Lady Hamilton was associated with her husband in his recondite work throughout his long and brilliant career, we must confess that her conduct was not only heroic to a degree, but also that the fame of the one she loved was to her a matter of the deepest concern.[252]"Induction is, indeed, a mighty weapon laid up in the armory of the human mind, and by its aid great deeds have been accomplished and noble conquests have been won. But in that armory there is another weapon, I will not say of stronger make, but certainly of keener edge; and, if that weapon had been oftener used during the present and preceding century, our knowledge would be far more advanced than it actually is. If the imagination had been more cultivated, if there had been a closer union between the spirit of poetry and the spirit of science, natural philosophy would have made greater progress, because natural philosophers would have taken a higher and more successful aim, and would have enlisted on their side a wider range of human sympathies." Buckle:The Influence of Women on the Progress of Knowledge.[253]The Subjection of Women, ut sup., p. 87.[254]Life and Letters of Thomas Henry Huxley, by his son Leonard Huxley, Vol. I, p. 324, New York, 1900.[255]Ibid., p. 39, Vol. II, p. 458.

[233]Sis oppido meminens quod olim Martia Hortensio, Terentia Tullio, Calpurnia Plinio, Pudentilla Apuleio, Rusticana Symmacho legentibus meditantibusque candelas and candelabra tenuerunt. Lib. II, Epist. 10.

[234]"Verum hoc—seu gratitudini seu ineptiæ ascribendum—non sileo, me quantulucunque conspicis, per illam esse, nec unquam ad hoc, si quid est nominis aut gloriæ fuisse venturum, nisi virtutum tenuissman sementem, quasi pectore in hoc natura locaverat, nobilissimis his affectibus coluisset." Francisci Petrarchæ,Colloquiorum Liber quem Secretum Suum Inscripsit, pp. 105-106, Berne, 1603.In his canzone beginning with the wordsPerchè la vita e breve, Petrarch declares to his inspirer—"Thus if in me is nurstAny good fruit, from you the seed came first;To you, if such appear, the praise is due,Barren myself till fertilized by you."

In his canzone beginning with the wordsPerchè la vita e breve, Petrarch declares to his inspirer—

"Thus if in me is nurstAny good fruit, from you the seed came first;To you, if such appear, the praise is due,Barren myself till fertilized by you."

[235]The Life of St. Francis of Assisi, by Paul Sabatier, p. 166, New York, 1894.

[236]Ibid., p. 167.

[237]Ibid., p. 307.

[238]The Women of the Renaissance, p. 394, New York, 1901.

[239]Women of Florence, by Isodoro del Lungo, p. xxvii, London, 1907.

[240]This passage from the dedication is so important that I reproduce the Latin original: "Omnino vitam, aut, si quid mihi carius est, vobis autem debeo, tibi autem, o diva Melusinis, omne presertim Mathematicis studium, ad quod me excitavit tum tuus in earn amor, tum summa artis illius, quam tenes, peritia, immo vero nunquam satis admiranda in tuo tamque regii et nobilis generis sexu Encyclopædia."François Viète, Inventeur de l'Algèbre Moderne, p. 20, par Frederic Ritter, Paris, 1895.

[241]"E nell' amore della figlia il grande astronomo trovò non soltanto un conforto a suoi affanni, ma anche una guida benefica alla quale sembrò egli abandonarsi con cieca tenerezza figliale."La Storia del Feminismo, p. 509, by G. L. Arrighi, Florence, 1911.

[242]Galileo Galilei e Suor Celeste, by Antonio Favaro, p. 256 et seq., Florence, 1891.

[243]An English writer, discussing this subject, pertinently observes: "For, after all, is it not the personal incidents and commonplaces of life that gather interest as the centuries roll on, while its more pretentious events often drop into mere literary lumber? How much more interesting Dr. Johnson's incidental admission, 'I have a strong inclination, Sir, to do nothing to-day,' is to us now than many of his more formal utterances. And, in reality, is it the personal element alone that is in the long run perennial? The wise may prate as they will about the importance of maintaining the continuity of history and of handing on the torch of science. The world cares for none of these things; they interest only some few political economists and laborious men. What does the crowd and poor little Tom Jones and his nestful, for instance, care about the fact that Cheops was—at any rate by courteous tradition—a mighty man of valor of such an era and land? But little Tom Jones and the rest of us would become mightily interested in this misty monster of many traditions, could we learn in some magical way all he thought, hated and loved in his inmost heart of hearts."The National Review, p. 461, June, 1889.

[244]The Duke of Peiresc, in a letter to Gassendi, regarding Galileo, refers to certain letters—très belles epistres—of the great philosopher, "à une sienne fille religieuse sur le sujet mesme des matières traictèes en son dernier livre." This shows that Sister Celeste was kept fully informed by her father respecting the nature and contents of his various works while he was preparing them for the press. It implies, likewise, that she was not only interested in them in a general way, but that she was able to read them intelligently and appreciate them as well.How fondly Galileo treasured the letters written him by this daughter of predilection is made known to us by Sister Celeste herself, when she tells him in one of her letters "Resto confusa sentendo ch'ella conservi le mie lettere, e dubito che il grande affeto que mi porta gliele dimonstri piu compita di quello che sono." Op. cit., p. 317.

How fondly Galileo treasured the letters written him by this daughter of predilection is made known to us by Sister Celeste herself, when she tells him in one of her letters "Resto confusa sentendo ch'ella conservi le mie lettere, e dubito che il grande affeto que mi porta gliele dimonstri piu compita di quello che sono." Op. cit., p. 317.

[245]Op. cit., p. 404.

[246]In the dedication of hisPrinciples of Philosophyhe addresses his young friend and pupil in the following words: "Je puis dire avec verité que je ne jamais rencontré que le seul esprit de votre altesse auquel l'un et l'autre"—metaphysics and mathematics—"fût également facile; ce qui fait quo j'ai une très juste raison de l'estimer incomparable."

[247]Geology and Mineralogy Considered with Reference to Natural Theology, by William Buckland, p. xxxvi, London, 1858.

[248]Pasteur, by Mr. and Mrs. Percy Frankland, p. 26 et seq., London, 1898. A French writer referring to this happy discovery expresses himself as follows: "Quand Pasteur trouva le vaccin de charbon, il remonta triomphant de son laboratoire et les larmes lui vinrent aux yeux en embrassant sa femme et sa fille auxquelles annoncait sa victoire."Revue Encyclopédique, p. 20, Jan. 15, 1895.

[249]Memoir and Correspondence of Caroline Herschel, London, 1879, pp. vi and vii, by Mrs. John Herschel. Cf. Chap. IV of this Vol.

[250]The Subjection of Women, pp. 98, 99, London, 1909.The idea herein expressed is beautifully accentuated in the touching dedication to the author's work On Liberty, which reads as follows:"To the beloved and deplored memory of her who was the inspirer, and in part the author, of all that is best in my writings—the friend and wife whose exalted sense of truth and right was my strongest incitement, and whose approbation was my chief reward—I dedicate this volume. Like all that I have written for many years, it belongs as much to her as to me; but the work as it stands has had, in a very insufficient degree, the inestimable advantage of her revision, some of the most important portions having been reserved for a more careful re-examination, which they are now never destined to receive. Were I but capable of interpreting to the world one-half the great thoughts and noble feelings which are buried in her grave, I should be the medium of a greater benefit to it than is ever likely to arise from anything I can write, unprompted and unassisted by her all but unrivalled wisdom."The chivalrous sentiments expressed in this generous tribute by one of the deepest thinkers of his time, to the memory of his noble and gifted life-companion, extravagant as they may seem, are but echoes of similar sentiments often voiced before by the world's greatest leaders of thought and science.

[250]The Subjection of Women, pp. 98, 99, London, 1909.

The idea herein expressed is beautifully accentuated in the touching dedication to the author's work On Liberty, which reads as follows:

"To the beloved and deplored memory of her who was the inspirer, and in part the author, of all that is best in my writings—the friend and wife whose exalted sense of truth and right was my strongest incitement, and whose approbation was my chief reward—I dedicate this volume. Like all that I have written for many years, it belongs as much to her as to me; but the work as it stands has had, in a very insufficient degree, the inestimable advantage of her revision, some of the most important portions having been reserved for a more careful re-examination, which they are now never destined to receive. Were I but capable of interpreting to the world one-half the great thoughts and noble feelings which are buried in her grave, I should be the medium of a greater benefit to it than is ever likely to arise from anything I can write, unprompted and unassisted by her all but unrivalled wisdom."

The chivalrous sentiments expressed in this generous tribute by one of the deepest thinkers of his time, to the memory of his noble and gifted life-companion, extravagant as they may seem, are but echoes of similar sentiments often voiced before by the world's greatest leaders of thought and science.

[251]Memoir of Sir William Hamilton, by John Veitch, p. 136 et seq., Edinburgh, 1869.It is frequently said that women, unlike men, are indifferent to fame. This may be true so far as they are personally concerned; but it is certainly not true of them in regard to their husbands, or the men for whom they have a genuine affection. This is abundantly proved by the lives of Mme. Huber, Mme. Pasteur, Caroline Herschel and Lady Hamilton, not to name others who have been mentioned in the foregoing pages. After Sir William Hamilton, at the age of fifty-six, had been stricken by hemiplegia on the right side, as the result of over-work, his faithful wife became for twelve years eyes, hands and even mind for him. She read and consulted books for him, and helped him to prepare his lectures and the works which have given him such celebrity. "Everything that was sent to the press and all the courses of lectures were written by her, either to dictation or from copy." And when we remember that the lectures and books were of the most abstruse character and that Lady Hamilton was associated with her husband in his recondite work throughout his long and brilliant career, we must confess that her conduct was not only heroic to a degree, but also that the fame of the one she loved was to her a matter of the deepest concern.

[251]Memoir of Sir William Hamilton, by John Veitch, p. 136 et seq., Edinburgh, 1869.

It is frequently said that women, unlike men, are indifferent to fame. This may be true so far as they are personally concerned; but it is certainly not true of them in regard to their husbands, or the men for whom they have a genuine affection. This is abundantly proved by the lives of Mme. Huber, Mme. Pasteur, Caroline Herschel and Lady Hamilton, not to name others who have been mentioned in the foregoing pages. After Sir William Hamilton, at the age of fifty-six, had been stricken by hemiplegia on the right side, as the result of over-work, his faithful wife became for twelve years eyes, hands and even mind for him. She read and consulted books for him, and helped him to prepare his lectures and the works which have given him such celebrity. "Everything that was sent to the press and all the courses of lectures were written by her, either to dictation or from copy." And when we remember that the lectures and books were of the most abstruse character and that Lady Hamilton was associated with her husband in his recondite work throughout his long and brilliant career, we must confess that her conduct was not only heroic to a degree, but also that the fame of the one she loved was to her a matter of the deepest concern.

[252]"Induction is, indeed, a mighty weapon laid up in the armory of the human mind, and by its aid great deeds have been accomplished and noble conquests have been won. But in that armory there is another weapon, I will not say of stronger make, but certainly of keener edge; and, if that weapon had been oftener used during the present and preceding century, our knowledge would be far more advanced than it actually is. If the imagination had been more cultivated, if there had been a closer union between the spirit of poetry and the spirit of science, natural philosophy would have made greater progress, because natural philosophers would have taken a higher and more successful aim, and would have enlisted on their side a wider range of human sympathies." Buckle:The Influence of Women on the Progress of Knowledge.

[253]The Subjection of Women, ut sup., p. 87.

[254]Life and Letters of Thomas Henry Huxley, by his son Leonard Huxley, Vol. I, p. 324, New York, 1900.

[255]Ibid., p. 39, Vol. II, p. 458.

Saint-Evremond, the first great master of the genteel style in French literature, who was equally noted as a brilliant courtier, a graceful wit, a professed Epicurean, and who exerted so marked an influence on the writings of Voltaire and the essayists of Queen Anne's time, gives us in one of his desultory productions an entertaining disquisition onLa femme qui ne se trouve point et ne se trouvera jamais—the woman who is not and never will be found. The caption of this singular essay admirably expresses the idea that the majority of mankind has, even until the present day, held respecting woman in science. For them she was non-existent. Nature, in their view, had disqualified her for serious and, above all, for abstract science. Never, therefore, in the opinion of these solemn wiseacres, had been found or could be found a woman who had achieved distinction in science.

The foregoing chapters show how ill-founded is such a view regarding woman in times past. For that half of humanity which has produced such scientific luminaries as Aspasia, Laura Bassi, Maria Gaetana Agnesi, Sophie Germain, Mary Somerville, Caroline Herschel, Sónya Kovalévsky, Agnes S. Lewis, Margaret Dunlop Gibson, Eleanor Ormerod and Mme. Curie—to mention no others—is far from exhibiting any evidence of intellectual disqualification and still farther from warranting any one from declaringthat the successful pursuit of science is entirely beyond the mental powers of womankind.

The preceding pages, likewise, afford an answer to those who insist on woman's incapacity for scientific pursuits, and point to the small number of those that have attained eminence in any of the branches of science; who continue to assert that the women named are but exceptions to the rule of the hopeless inferiority of their sex, and that no conclusions can be deduced from the paucity of women who have risen above the intellectual level of their less fortunate or less highly dowered sisters. They further show that, until the last few decades, woman's environment was rarely if ever favorable to her pursuit of science. From the days of Aspasia until the latter half of the nineteenth century she was discriminated against by law, custom and public opinion. Save only in Italy, she was excluded from the universities and from learned societies in which she might have had an opportunity of developing her intellect. In other countries her social ostracism in all that pertained to mental development was so complete and universal that she rarely had an opportunity of making a trial of her powers or exhibiting her innate capacity. The consequence was that her mind remained in a condition of comparative atrophy—a condition that gave rise to that long prevalent belief in woman's intellectual inferiority to man and her natural incapacity for everything that is not light or frivolous.

Practically all that women have achieved in science, until very recent years, has been accomplished in defiance of that conventional code which compelled them to confine their activities to the ordinary duties of the household. The lives and achievements of the eminent mathematicians, Sophie Germain and Mary Somerville, are good illustrations of the truth of this assertion. It was only their persistence in the study of their favorite branch of science, in spite of the opposition of their family and friends, and inspite of what was considered taboo for their sex by the usages and ordinances of society, that they were able to attain that eminence in the most abstruse of the sciences which won for them the plaudits of the world. Both were virtually self-made women. Deprived of the advantages of a college or university education, and denied the stimulus afforded by membership in learned scientific associations, they nevertheless succeeded by their own unaided efforts in winning a place of highest honor in the Walhalla of men of science.

M. Alphonse de Candolle, in his great work,Histoire des Sciences et des Savants depuis Deux Siècles, devotes only two pages to the consideration of woman in science. She is, to him, a negligible quantity. And, although a professed man of science, he repeats, without any scientific warrant whatever, all the gratuitous statements of his predecessors regarding the superficial character of the female mind, "a mind," he will have it, which "takes pleasure in ideas that are readily seized by a kind of intuition;" a mind "to which the slow methods of observation and calculation by which truth is surely arrived at are not pleasing. Truths themselves," the Swiss savant continues, "independent of their nature and possible consequences—especially general truths which have no relation to a particular person—are of small moment to most women. Add to this a feeble independence of opinion, a reasoning faculty less intense than in man, and, finally, the horror of doubt, that is, a state of mind in which all research in the sciences of observation must begin and often end. These reasons are," according to de Candolle, "more than sufficient to explain the position of women in scientific pursuits."[256]

They certainly are more than sufficient to explain their position if we choose to accept the author's method of determining one's attainments in the realm of science. Hischief test of one's eminence in science is the number of learned societies to which one belongs. For De Candolle, membership in one or more such bodies isprima facieevidence of special distinction in some branch of science. But "We," he declares, "do not see the name of any woman on the lists of learned men connected with the principal academies. This is not due entirely to the fact that the customs and regulations have made no provision for their admission, for it is easy to assure one's self that no person of the feminine sex has ever produced an original scientific work which has made its mark in any science and commanded the attention of specialists in science. I do not think it has ever been considered desirable to elect a woman a member of any of the great scientific academies with restricted membership."[257]

When De Candolle insisted on membership in learned societies as a necessary indication of scientific eminence, he must have known, what everybody knew, that such exclusive societies as the French Academy of Sciences and the Royal Society of Great Britain have always been dead set against the admission of women members. It is difficult to imagine that the learned author of theHistory of Science and Scientistswas entirely ignorant of the exclusion from the French Academy of Maria Gaetana Agnesi solely because she was a woman. And he must have been aware that, had it not been for her sex, Sophie Germain would have been accorded a fauteuil in the same society for her remarkable investigations in one of the difficult departments of mathematical physics. He must likewise have been cognizant of the attitude of such organizations as the Royal Society toward women, no matter how meritorious their achievements in science.

According to De Candolle's criterion, such women as Mme. Curie, Sónya Kovalévsky, Eleanor Ormerod, Agnes S. Lewis, Margaret Dunlop Gibson have accomplished nothingworthy of note because, forsooth, their names are not found on the rolls of membership of the Royal Society or the French Academy of Sciences—associations whose constitutions have been purposely so framed as to exclude women from membership. It would, indeed, be difficult to instance a more unfair or a more unscientific test of woman's eminence in science, and that, too, proposed by one who is supposed to be actuated in his judgments by rigorously scientific methods. Had any of the women named belonged to the male sex, there never would have been any question of their fitness to become members of the societies in question. This is particularly true of Mme. Curie, who, in the estimation of the world, has done more to enhance the prestige of French science than any man of the present generation—a statement that is sufficiently justified by the fact that she is the only one so far who has twice, in competition with the greatest of the world's men of science, succeeded in carrying away the great Nobel prize.[258]

Not only have men, from time immemorial, been wont to point to woman's incapacity for science as evidenced by the small number of those who have achieved distinction in any of its branches, but they have also taken a special pleasure in directing attention to the fact that no woman has ever given to the world any of the great creations of genius, or been the prime-mover in any of the far-reaching discoveries which have so greatly contributed to the weal, the advancement and the happiness of our race.

No one, probably, has expressed himself on this subject in a more positive or characteristic fashion than the noted litterateur and philosopher, Count Joseph de Maistre. Writing from St. Petersburg to his daughter, Constance, he says: "Voltaire, according to what you affirm—for as to me, I know nothing, as I have not read all his works, and have not read a line of them during the last thirty years—says that women are capable of doing all that men do, etc. This is merely a compliment paid to some pretty woman, or, rather, it is one of the hundred thousand andthousand silly things which he said during his lifetime. The very contrary is the truth. Women have produced nochef d'œuvreof any kind whatsoever. They have been the authors neither of theIliad, nor theÆneid, nor theJerusalem Delivered, norPhèdre, norAthalienorRodogune, norThe Misanthrope, norTartufe, norThe Joueur, norThe Pantheon, norThe Church of St. Peter's, nor theVenus de' Medici, nor theApollo Belvidere, nor thePrincipia, nor theDiscourse on Universal History, norTelemachus. They have invented neither algebra nor the telescope, nor achromatic glasses nor the fire engine, nor hose-machines, etc."[259]

All this is true, but what does it prove? It does not prove, as is so frequently assumed, woman's lesser brainpower or inferior intelligence. It does not prove—as the learned Frenchman and those who are similarly minded would have us believe—her incapacity for the highest flights of genius in every sphere of intellectual effort. Such assumptions are entirely negatived by woman's past achievements in all departments of art, literature and science.

Far from making the inference that De Maistre wished his daughter to draw from his letter, we should, from what we know of woman's ability as disclosed in the foregoing chapters, hesitate to set a limit to her powers, or to declare apodictically that she could not have been the author of works of as great merit as most of those—if not all of them—mentioned as among men's supreme achievements. The simple fact that Mme. Curie and Sónya Kovalévsky were able, in sciences usually considered beyond female intelligence, to wrest from their male competitors the most coveted prizes within the gift of the Nobel Prize Commission and the French Academy of Sciences, demonstrates completely that woman's assumed incapacity for even the most recondite scientific pursuits is a mere figment of the masculine imagination.

What women have done "that at least, if nothing else," as John Stuart Mill aptly observes, "it is proved they can do. When we consider how sedulously they are all trained away from, instead of being trained toward, any of the occupations or objects reserved for men, it is evident that I am taking very humble ground for them, when I rest their case on what they have actually achieved. For, in this case, negative evidence is worth little, while any positive evidence is conclusive. It cannot be inferred to be impossible that a woman should be a Homer, or an Aristotle, or a Michaelangelo, or a Beethoven, because no woman has yet actually produced works comparable to theirs in any of those lines of excellence. This negative fact at most leaves the question uncertain and open to psychologicaldiscussion. But it is quite certain that a woman can be a Queen Elizabeth or a Deborah or a Joan of Arc, since this is not inference but a fact."[260]

In like manner it is quite certain that, in spite of all kinds of disabilities and prejudices and adverse legislation, there have been a large number of women who, in every department of intellectual activity, have achieved marked distinction and won imperishable renown for their proscribed sex. It is a fact, which admits of no question, that, notwithstanding their being debarred from all the educational advantages so generously lavished upon the dominant sex, women have since the days of Sappho and Hypatia shown themselves the equals and often the superiors of men in the highest and noblest spheres of mental achievement.

Such being the case, what, we may ask, would have been the result had women, from that splendid Heroic Period of which Homer sings until the present, enjoyed all the opportunities of mental development of which men have systematically claimed the exclusive privilege?[261]What would now be their condition if, from the days of the Muses—who were but learned women apotheosized—women had never been deprived of their intellectual birthright and had been permitted to continue in the path so auspiciously blazed by Corinna—the victor over Pindar—and Arete, the splendor of Greece and the possessor of the mind of Socrates and the tongue of Homer? What wouldnot now be their intellectual efflorescence, if Plato's dream of twenty-three centuries ago of giving women equal rights with men in all things of the mind could have been realized; if those ardent female disciples of his, who so lovingly followed him through the streets of Athens—"the home of the intellectual and the beautiful"—and hung on his lips during his matchless discourses in the groves of the Academy and on the banks of the Ilyssus, could have continued that race of intellect and genius which was the admiration and the inspiration of all Hellas during the most brilliant period of its marvelous history?

Speculating only on what the gifted daughters of Greece might have achieved, we may easily believe that they would have kept pace with their most highly gifted countrymen, and that, following in the footsteps of Sappho and the other Muses of the "Terrestrial Nine," they would have been worthy rivals of Homer, Pindar and Æschylus, and would have occupied a prominent place in that brilliant galaxy of genius composed of such luminaries as Anaxagoras, Sophocles, Euclid, Archimedes, Theophrastus, Polygnotus, Diophantus, Pausanias and Thucydides.

To those who base their opinions on what so long has been the absurdly anomalous condition of women and who, in formulating their theories of human progress, completely ignore the fundamental laws of heredity, such conjectures will seem extravagant, if not chimerical. But, when one bears in mind the universal fact that offspring, whatever the sex, inherits its characteristics and its powers from both parents alike; that the soul, unlike the body, has no sex, and that, so far as legitimate indications from the teachings of biology and psychology can serve as a guide, there is no valid reason for asserting the mental superiority of man over woman, one will be obliged to confess that these surmises are far from being either fanciful or preposterous.

It is then the veriest sophism to predicate woman'sincapacity for science and for intellectual achievements of the highest order on what she has not accomplished in the past, or on the comparatively limited number of her contributions to the advancement of knowledge; for up till the present she has, for the most part, been but a dwarf of the gynæceum,

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