The Education of American Girls

by Anna C. Brackett

It was this view of the subject, rather than any belief in the modern theories of woman's sphere, that led the founders of Oberlin College to open her doors to women. She has tried the experiment for nearly two generations. Her last annual catalogue contained the names of over one hundred students, whose fathers' or mothers' names can be found in some earlier catalogue. Let us see with what results; for these are the data which Dr. Clarke says we must have, before we can reach any definite conclusion.

Oberlin has graduated, as shown by her last Triennial Catalogue, published in 1873, 579 men and 620 women. This does not include the 126 men from the Theological Seminary. Ninety-five women have graduated from the full classical course, and received the first degree in the arts, 525 from the “Women's Course.” But lest some should conclude from this name, that it stands for a diluted curriculum, suited to the weakened condition of woman's brain, or rather, her body—since we have it upon the best authority that her brain, under the most powerful microscope, shows no inferiority to man's—we will add, that the trustees of the college, at their last annual meeting, discussed the question of changing the name, and conferring a degree upon those completing this course, as Michigan University confers a degree upon those completing its Latin Scientific Course. The subject was referred to the Faculty, to be reported upon at the next Commencement.

Now, what of these 620 women, to whom Oberlin has given the privileges of a higher intellectual development? How have they stood the “wear and tear”? Surely they have been put to the test, for few of them have led inactive lives. Their names are to be found as teachers in our common schools; in our high-schools and seminaries, from Mexico to the woods of Canada; from the Pacific Coast to the Atlantic; in our lists of missionaries, both in the home and foreign field; as professors in Female Medical Colleges; as founders of asylums and homes of refuge, and as leaders in all benevolent enterprises.

Now it is a law of nature, that where there is an imperfect development there is a tendency to early decay. If, then, the evils of continuous education for girls be as great as Dr. Clarke thinks, we should naturally expect to find more deaths among the Alumnæ than among the Alumni of Oberlin. We turn again to the Triennial, and count the starred names. There are 60 among the former and 59 among the latter, making the per cent of deaths for the female graduates, 9.67; for the male graduates, a little over 10. But it should be mentioned that there were no women in the first class, so that, as near as may be, the rates of mortality are the same. The number of deaths among the 95 women who have graduated from the full classical course, is 10, making the per cent 9.5.

We see nothing here “to excite the grave alarm,” but we do see something “to demand the serious attention of the community.” If the question, whether girls can endure continuous education—which really means whether they shall be educated at all beyond the mere rudiments and polite nothings—is to be decided, such facts as these, to those who are honestly looking for the truth, mean more than pages of theorizing.

But some one says, tell us of the health of these 620 women. How many are hopeless invalids, dragging out “tedious days and still more tedious nights”? The limits of this essay would preclude the possibility of giving the individual history of each, even if it were known to us; but because facts here are worth so much more than general statements, and because Dr. Clarke says it is data that must decide this question, I have concluded to give the individual history, so far as known to me, of the Class of '56. Not because there is anything peculiar in its history, but because it is my own class, and I therefore know more about it. I take the names in alphabetical order, and call the roll:

The first answers from Buffalo, where, as a minister's wife, she finds ample opportunity to exercise all her powers. She reports good health.

The second is unmarried, and a teacher. For some years she has been working among the freedmen's schools at the South. When I last saw her, some five months since, she appeared the embodiment of good cheer and sound nerves.

The third was for eleven years a teacher in a private seminary in New York. A part of that time she had the entire charge of the school. During the whole time she lost but two months from sickness. She is now in good health, and enjoying home life.

The fourth does not answer to any roll-call here. She came to us clad in mourning. Consumption had robbed her of a mother and sister, and we always felt that her hold upon life was slight. The years added somewhat of strength and elasticity, and we hoped against hope. She married soon after graduating, and moved to the South. When the war opened, she and her husband were obliged to flee; hunted from county to county and from State to State, they at last crossed the Ohio. No sooner had her feet touched her native soil, than, turning to him who was her all, she said—Go. She lived to see the war closed; but the watching and the waiting had been too much for her. The old family enemy claimed its victim.