One of the burning questions now in
the colleges for the higher education of women is
whether the undergraduates shall wear the cap and gown.
The subject is a delicate one, and should not be confused
with the broader one, what is the purpose of the higher
education? Some hold that the purpose is to enable
a woman to dispense with marriage, while others maintain
that it is to fit a woman for the higher duties of
the married life. The latter opinion will probably
prevail, for it has nature on its side, and the course
of history, and the imagination. But meantime
the point of education is conceded, and whether a
girl is to educate herself into single or double blessedness
need not interfere with the consideration of the habit
she is to wear during her college life. That
is to be determined by weighing a variety of reasons.
Not the least of these is the consideration
whether the cap-and-gown habit is becoming. If
it is not becoming, it will not go, not even by an
amendment to the Constitution of the United States;
for woman’s dress obeys always the higher law.
Masculine opinion is of no value on this point, and
the Drawer is aware of the fact that if it thinks the
cap and gown becoming, it may imperil the cap-and-gown
cause to say so; but the cold truth is that the habit
gives a plain girl distinction, and a handsome girl
gives the habit distinction. So that, aside from
the mysterious working of feminine motive, which makes
woman a law unto herself, there should be practical
unanimity in regard to this habit. There is in
the cap and gown a subtle suggestion of the union of
learning with womanly charm that is very captivating
to the imagination. On the other hand, all this
may go for nothing with the girl herself, who is conscious
of the possession of quite other powers and attractions
in a varied and constantly changing toilet, which
can reflect her moods from hour to hour. So that
if it is admitted that this habit is almost universally
becoming today, it might, in the inscrutable depths
of the feminine nature the something that
education never can and never should change be
irksome tomorrow, and we can hardly imagine what a
blight to a young spirit there might be in three hundred
and sixty-five days of uniformity.
The devotees of the higher education
will perhaps need to approach the subject from another
point of view namely, what they are willing
to surrender in order to come into a distinctly scholastic
influence. The cap and gown are scholastic emblems.
Primarily they marked the student, and not alliance
with any creed or vows to any religious order.
They belong to the universities of learning, and today
they have no more ecclesiastic meaning than do the
gorgeous robes of the Oxford chancellor and vice-chancellor
and the scarlet hood. From the scholarly side,
then, if not from the dress side, there is much to
be said for the cap and gown. They are badges
of devotion, for the time being, to an intellectual
life.
They help the mind in its effort to
set itself apart to unworldly pursuits; they are indications
of separateness from the prevailing fashions and frivolities.
The girl who puts on the cap and gown devotes herself
to the society which is avowedly in pursuit of a larger
intellectual sympathy and a wider intellectual life.
The enduring of this habit will have a confirming
influence on her purposes, and help to keep her up
to them. It is like the uniform to the soldier
or the veil to the nun a sign of separation
and devotion. It is difficult in this age to
keep any historic consciousness, any proper relations
to the past. In the cap and gown the girl will
at least feel that she is in the line of the traditions
of pure learning. And there is also something
of order and discipline in the uniforming of a community
set apart for an unworldly purpose. Is it believed
that three or four years of the kind of separateness
marked by this habit in the life of a girl will rob
her of any desirable womanly quality?
The cap and gown are only an emphasis
of the purpose to devote a certain period to the higher
life, and if they cannot be defended, then we may
begin to be skeptical about the seriousness of the
intention of a higher education. If the school
is merely a method of passing the time until a certain
event in the girl’s life, she had better dress
as if that event were the only one worth considering.
But if she wishes to fit herself for the best married
life, she may not disdain the help of the cap and gown
in devoting herself to the highest culture. Of
course education has its dangers, and the regalia
of scholarship may increase them. While our cap-and-gown
divinity is walking in the groves of Academia, apart
from the ways of men, her sisters outside may be dancing
and dressing into the affections of the marriageable
men. But this is not the worst of it. The
university girl may be educating herself out of sympathy
with the ordinary possible husband. But this
will carry its own cure. The educated girl will
be so much more attractive in the long-run, will have
so many more resources for making a life companionship
agreeable, that she will be more and more in demand.
And the young men, even those not expecting to take
up a learned profession, will see the advantage of
educating themselves up to the cap-and-gown level.
We know that it is the office of the university to
raise the standard of the college, and of the college
to raise the standard of the high school. It will
be the inevitable result that these young ladies,
setting themselves apart for a period to the intellectual
life, will raise the standard of the young men, and
of married life generally. And there is nothing
supercilious in the invitation of the cap-and-gown
brigade to the young men to come up higher.
There is one humiliating objection
made to the cap and gown-made by members of the gentle
sex themselves which cannot be passed by.
It is of such a delicate nature, and involves such
a disparagement of the sex in a vital point, that
the Drawer hesitates to put it in words. It is
said that the cap and gown will be used to cover untidiness,
to conceal the makeshift of a disorderly and unsightly
toilet. Undoubtedly the cap and gown are democratic,
adopted probably to equalize the appearance of rich
and poor in the same institution, where all are on
an intellectual level. Perhaps the sex is not
perfect; it may be that there are slovens (it is a
brutal word) in that sex which is our poetic image
of purity. But a neat and self-respecting girl
will no more be slovenly under a scholastic gown than
under any outward finery. If it is true that the
sex would take cover in this way, and is liable to
run down at the heel when it has a chance, then to
the “examination” will have to be added
a periodic “inspection,” such as the West-Pointers
submit to in regard to their uniforms. For the
real idea of the cap and gown is to encourage discipline,
order, and neatness. We fancy that it is the mission
of woman in this generation to show the world that
the tendency of woman to an intellectual life is not,
as it used to be said it was, to untidy habits.