"That sounds strange," said old Heim; "it looks almost as if you were afraid of the competition which you so thoroughly despise. Why speak of competition in science? Leave that narrow-minded word to trade, which is really confined within certain limits. In such a boundless and abstract domain as science, there is no place for personal envy and arrogance. Can there be any question of competition when we are labouring for a cause which is to benefit the world? Whoever asks for other rewards than are contained in knowledge itself, is no priest of science. The true student exists for science, not science for him,--he rejoices in every fresh advance, no matter by whom it is made, for the honour of the cause that he serves is his own, and we can say truthfully, Each for all, and all for each. If, therefore, we are offered the labour of a pair of hands willing to share our pains, let us not reject them because they are the delicate hands of a woman, but accept them, and offer them a modest place, where they can achieve all that lies in their power."
"But," cried Moritz, "let such hands do for us what we cannot do for ourselves,--knit stockings, for instance,--instead of trying to assist in what we can easily accomplish without them."
"My dear young friend," said Heim smiling, "the temple of science is large, very large. I think neither we nor our posterity, however numerous they may be, will be able to complete it."
"I think, gentlemen," said the philosopher Taun, in his gentle, refined way, "that there are only two points of view from which the matter is to be considered. Either we must base our decision upon the intellectual capacity of the lady, and, if so, subject the paper before us to conscientious criticism; or we must determine, once for all, that no woman is to be admitted to our University,--in which case there will be no question whatever of capacity or incapacity. Let us, then, come to an agreement upon these points."
"That is true,--Taun is right," cried Heim. "I vote for the admission of women of genius, like this one."
"And I against it," rejoined Herbert; "for I contend that there are no women of genius!"
"For my part," said Taun, "I am not decidedly opposed to the admission of a woman among our hearers, and, if I were, the originality of Fräulein Hartwich's paper would have shaken my decision. I cannot judge of the value of the physiological part of it,--I must leave that to our friend Möllner; but the philosophical idea that is its basis I think extremely suggestive, and that is more than can be expected from one of the laity."
"I oppose the emancipation of women," cried Moritz, "principally because I find the existing order of society quite rational, and will do nothing to disturb it."
"I vote for Fräulein Hartwich," said young Hilsborn. "It will not interfere with our social order to grant her request. She will not be followed by crowds of imitators, for the simple reason that her talent is extraordinary. I maintain that we have no right to deny any opportunity for development to such a talent because it is accidentally hidden in a woman's brain. A great mind requires strong nourishment, and it is cruel to withhold such from it out of mere envy, and condemn it to extinction among the commonplace occupations of women."
"Hilsborn is far from wrong," said Meibert; "but can such a mind quench its thirst for knowledge nowhere but in a University? The lady has certainly proved in the treatise before us that she has learned something outside of the walls of the lecture-room. What does she want of a degree? It must be vanity that suggests the want, and we are to blame if we lend ourselves to the gratification of such a folly."