Age has not abated my zeal for the emancipation of my sex from the unreasonable prejudice too prevalent in Great Britain against a literary and scientific education for women. The French are more civilized in this respect, for they have taken the lead, and have given the first example in modern times of encouragement to the high intellectual culture of the sex. Madame Emma Chenu, who had received the degree of Master of Arts from the Faculty of Sciences of the University in Paris, has more recently received the diploma of Licentiate in Mathematical Sciences from the same illustrious Society, after a successful examination in algebra, trigonometry, analytical geometry, the differential and integral calculus, and astronomy. A Russian lady has also taken a degree; and a lady of my acquaintance has received a gold medal from the same Institution.
I joined in a petition to the Senate of London University, praying that degrees might be granted to women; but it was rejected. I have also frequently signed petitions to Parliament for the Female Suffrage, and have the honour now to be a member of the General Committee for Woman Suffrage in London.
My mother, in alluding to the great changes in public opinion which she had lived to see, used to remark that a commonly well-informed woman of the present day would have been looked upon as a prodigy of learning in her youth, and that even till quite lately many considered that if women were to receive the solid education men enjoy, they would forfeit much of their feminine grace and become unfit to perform their domestic duties. My mother herself was one of the brightest examples of the fallacy of this old-world theory, for no one was more thoroughly and gracefully feminine than she was, both in manner and appearance; and, as I have already mentioned, no amount of scientific labour ever induced her to neglect her home duties. She took the liveliest interest in all that has been done of late years to extend high class education to women, both classical and scientific, and hailed the establishment of the Ladies' College at Girton as a great step in the true direction, and one which could not fail to obtain most important results. Her scientific library, as already stated, has been presented to this College as the best fulfilment of her wishes.
I have lately entered my 89th year, grateful to God for the innumerable blessings He has bestowed on me and my children; at peace with all on earth, and I trust that I may be at peace with my Maker when my last hour comes, which cannot now be far distant.
Although I have been tried by many severe afflictions, my life upon the whole has been happy. In my youth I had to contend with prejudice and illiberality; yet I was of a quiet temper, and easy to live with, and I never interfered with or pryed into other people's affairs. However, if irritated by what I considered unjust criticism or interference with myself, or any one I loved, I could resent it fiercely. I was not good at argument; I was apt to lose my temper; but I never bore ill will to any one, or forgot the manners of a gentlewoman, however angry I may have been at the time. But I must say that no one ever met with such kindness as I have done. I never had an enemy. I have never been of a melancholy disposition; though depressed sometimes by circumstances, I always rallied again; and although I seldom laugh, I can laugh heartily at wit or on fit occasion. The short time I have to live naturally occupies my thoughts. In the blessed hope of meeting again with my beloved children, and those who were and are dear to me on earth, I think of death with composure and perfect confidence in the mercy of God. Yet to me, who am afraid to sleep alone on a stormy night, or even to sleep comfortably any night unless some one is near, it is a fearful thought, that my spirit must enter that new state of existence quite alone. We are told of the infinite glories of that state, and I believe in them, though it is incomprehensible to us; but as I do comprehend, in some degree at least, the exquisite loveliness of the visible world, I confess I shall be sorry to leave it. I shall regret the sky, the sea, with all the changes of their beautiful colouring; the earth, with its verdure and flowers: but far more shall I grieve to leave animals who have followed our steps affectionately for years, without knowing for certainty their ultimate fate, though I firmly believe that the living principle is never extinguished. Since the atoms of matter are indestructible, as far as we know, it is difficult to believe that the spark which gives to their union life, memory, affection, intelligence, and fidelity, is evanescent. Every atom in the human frame, as well as in that of animals, undergoes a periodical change by continual waste and renovation; the abode is changed, not its inhabitant. If animals have no future, the existence of many is most wretched; multitudes are starved, cruelly beaten, and loaded during life; many die under a barbarous vivisection. I cannot believe that any creature was created for uncompensated misery; it would be contrary to the attributes of God's mercy and justice. I am sincerely happy to find that I am not the only believer in the immortality of the lower animals.
When I was taught geography by the village schoolmaster at Burntisland, it seemed to me that half the world was terra incognita, and now that a new edition of my "Physical Geography" is required, it will be a work of great labour to bring it up to the present time. The discoveries in South Africa alone would fill a volume. Japan and China have been opened to Europeans since my last edition. The great continent of Australia was an entirely unknown country, except part of the coast. Now telegrams have been sent and answers received in the course of a few hours, from our countrymen throughout that mighty empire, and even from New Zealand, round half the globe. The inhabitants of the United States are our offspring; so whatever may happen to Great Britain in the course of events, it still will have the honour of colonizing, and consequently civilizing, half the world.
In all recent geographical discoveries, our Royal Geographical Society has borne the most important part, and none of its members have done more than my highly-gifted friend the President, Sir Roderick Murchison, geologist of Russia, and founder and author of the colossal "Silurian System." To the affection of this friend, sanctioned by the unanimous approval of the council of that illustrious Society, I owe the honour of being awarded the Victoria Medal for my "Physical Geography." An honour so unexpected, and so far beyond my merit, surprised and affected me more deeply than I can find words to express.