Woman in Science / With an Introductory Chapter on Woman's Long Struggle for Things of the Mind

by J. A. Zahm

For it was about this time that the movement which had long been agitated in behalf of the higher education of women began suddenly to assume extraordinary vitality, not only throughout Europe but in America as well. And to no women did this movement appeal so strongly as to those who had long been looking forward to an opportunity to qualify themselves for the learned professions, especially medicine. No sooner did they descry the first flush of dawn on their long-deferred hopes than they began to consider ways and means for putting their fondly nurtured projects into execution.

Seven years, almost to the day, after the death of Maria dalle Donne, Miss Elizabeth Blackwell, a young woman in America, of English birth, decided to enter college with a view of studying medicine and surgery. But, at the very outset, she encountered all kinds of unforeseen difficulties—difficulties that would have caused a less courageous and determined woman to give up her plans in despair. She was told, in the first place, that it was highly improper for a woman to study medicine and that no decent woman would think of becoming a medical practitioner. As to a lady studying or practicing surgery that, of course, was out of the question.

But a more serious obstacle than the conventionalities in the case was the difficulty of finding a medical college that was willing to admit a woman to its lecture rooms and laboratories. Miss Blackwell applied to more than a dozen of the leading institutions of America, and received a positive refusal to her request. Finally, when hope had almost vanished, she received word from a small college in Geneva, New York, announcing that her application had been favorably considered and that she would be admitted as a student whenever she presented herself.

The truth is that the faculty of the college was opposed to the young woman's admission, but wished to escape the odium incident to a direct refusal by referring the question to the class with a proviso which, it was believed, would necessarily exclude her. "But in this it was greatly surprised and disappointed. For the entire medical class, to the number of about one hundred and fifty, decided unanimously in favor of the fair applicant's admission. And they did more than this. They put themselves on record regarding the equality of educational opportunities for women and men in a way that must have put their timid professors to shame. Their resolution, accompanying an invitation to the young woman to become a member of the student body, was worded as follows:

"'Resolved, That one of the radical principles of a republican government is the universal education of both sexes; that to every branch of scientific education the door should be equally open to all; that the application of Elizabeth Blackwell to become a member of our class meets our entire approbation, and, in extending our unanimous invitation, we pledge ourselves that no conduct of ours shall cause her to regret her attendance at this institution.'"

The students were as good as their word. Their conduct, as Miss Blackwell wrote years afterward, was always admirable and that of "true Christian gentlemen." But the women of Geneva were shocked at the female medical student. They stared at her as a curious animal; and the theory was fully established that she was "either a bad woman, whose designs would gradually become evident, or that, being insane, an outbreak of insanity would soon be apparent."[210]

In due time Miss Blackwell finished her course in medicine and surgery, and graduated at the head of her class. The orator of the day, who was a member of the faculty, naturally referred to the new departure that had been made—the admission of a woman for the first time to a complete medical education—and among other things declared that the experiment, of which every member of the faculty was proud, "had proved that the strongest intellect and nerve and the most untiring perseverance were compatible with the softest attributes of feminine delicacy and grace."[211]

The awarding of the degree of M.D. for the first time to a woman in America excited general comment and widespread interest, not only in the United States, but in Europe as well. The public press was not unfavorable in its opinion of the new departure, and even Punch could not resist writing some verses, sympathetic, albeit humorous, in honor of the fair M.D.[212]