I had never felt any special interest in this college. I was willing it should exist as one of the half-way measures of which I have spoken,--like the reading-room in New York; but I was bent on opening the colleges which already existed to women, and I left it to others to nurse the young life of this. The first medical men, I felt assured, would never, in the present state of public opinion, take an interest in a female college; and I desired, above all things, to protect women from second-rate instruction.
But, when Marie Zakrzewska took up her residence in Springfield Street, it was impossible to feel indifferent. Here was a woman born to inspire faith; meeting all men as her equals till they proved themselves superior; capable of spreading a contagious fondness for the study of medicine, as Dr. Black once kindled a chemical enthusiasm in Edinburgh.
Often did I ponder her past life, which had left significant lines on face and form. We met seldom,--always with perfect trust. Whatever I might have to say, I should have felt sure of being understood, if I had not seen her for six months; nor could she have failed to find a welcome in my heart for any words of hers.
Then I heard the course of lectures which she delivered to ladies in the spring of 1860. For the first time, I heard a woman speak of scientific subjects in a way that satisfied me; nor should I have blushed to find scientific men among her audience. I had felt, from the first, that her life might do what my words never could: namely, inspire women with faith to try their own experiments; give them a dignity, which should refuse to look forward to marriage as an end, while it would lead them to accept it gladly as a providential help. I did not fear that she would be untrue to her vocation, or easily forsake it for a more domestic sphere. She had not entered it, I could see, without measuring her own purpose and its use.
It was with such feelings, and such knowledge of Marie, that in a private conversation, last summer with Miss Mary L. Booth of New York, I heard with undisguised pleasure that she had in her possession an autobiography of her friend, in the form of a letter. I really longed to get possession of that letter so intensely, that I dared not ask to see it: but I urged Miss Booth to get consent to its publication; "for," I said, "no single thing will help my work, I am convinced, so much."
"I look forward to its publication," she replied, "with great delight: it will be the sole labor of love, of my literary life. But neither you nor I believe in reputations which death and posterity have not confirmed. What reasons could I urge to Marie for its present publication?"
"The good of her own sex," I replied, "and a better knowledge of the intimate relations existing between free labor and a pure society. I know nothing of our friend's early circumstances; but I cannot be mistaken in the imprint they have left. This is one of those rare cases, in which a life may belong to the public before it has closed."
I returned to Boston. Later in the season, Miss Booth visited Dr. Zakrzewska. Imagine my surprise when she came to me one day, and laid before me the coveted manuscript. "It is yours," she said, "to publish if you choose. I have got Marie's consent. She gave it very reluctantly; but her convictions accord with yours, and she does not think she has any right to refuse. As for me," Miss Booth continued, "I resign without regret my dearest literary privilege, because I feel that the position you have earned in reference to 'woman's labor' entitles you to edit it."
In an interview which I afterwards held with Marie Zakrzewska, she gave me to understand, that, had she been of American birth, she would never have consented to the publication of her letter in her lifetime. "But," she said, "I am a foreigner. You who meet me and sustain me are entitled to know something of my previous history. Those whom I most loved are dead; not a word of the record can pain them; not a word but may help some life just now beginning. It will make a good sequel to 'Woman's Right to Labor.'"
"Only too good," I thought. "May God bless the lesson!"