1865-1885
LIFE AT VASSAR COLLEGE
In her life at Vassar College there
was a great deal for Miss Mitchell to get accustomed
to; if her duties had been merely as director of the
observatory, it would have been simply a continuation
of her previous work. But she was expected, of
course, to teach astronomy; she was by no means sure
that she could succeed as a teacher, and with this
new work on hand she could not confine herself to
original investigationthat which had been
her great aim in life.
But she was so much interested in
the movement for the higher education of women, an
interest which deepened as her work went on, that she
gave up, in a great measure, her scientific life,
and threw herself heart and soul into this work.
For some years after she went to Vassar,
she still continued the work for the Nautical Almanac;
but after a while she relinquished that, and confined
herself wholly to the work in the college.
“1866. Vassar College brought
together a mass of heterogeneous material, out of
which it was expected that a harmonious whole would
evolvepupils from all parts of the country,
of different habits, different training, different
views; teachers, mostly from New England, differing
also; professors, largely from Massachusetts, yet differing
much. And yet, after a year, we can say that there
has been no very noisy jarring of the discordant elements;
small jostling has been felt, but the president has
oiled the rough places, and we have slid over them.
“... Miss
is a bigot, but a very sincere one. She is the
most conservative person I ever met. I think
her a very good woman, a woman of great energy....
She is very kind to me, but had we lived in the colonial
days of Massachusetts, and had she been a power, she
would have burned me at the stake for heresy!
“Yesterday the rush began.
Miss Lyman [the lady principal] had set the twenty
teachers all around in different places, and I was
put into the parlor to talk to ‘anxious mothers.’
“Miss Lyman had a hoarse cold,
but she received about two hundred students, and had
all their rooms assigned to them.
“While she had one anxious mamma,
I took two or three, and kept them waiting until she
could attend to them. Several teachers were with
me. I made a rush at the visitors as they entered,
and sometimes I was asked if I were lady principal,
and sometimes if I were the matron. This morning
Miss Lyman’s voice was gone. She must have
seen five hundred people yesterday.
“Among others there was one
Miss Mitchell, and, of course, that anxious mother
put that girl under my special care, and she is very
bright. Then there were two who were sent with
letters to me, and several others whose mothers took
to me because they were frightened by Miss Lyman’s
style.
“One lady, who seemed to be
a bright woman, got me by the button and held me a
long timeshe wanted this, that, and the
other impracticable thing for the girl, and told me
how honest her daughter was; then with a flood of
tears she said, ’But she is not a Christian.
I know I put her into good hands when I put her here.’
(Then I was strongly tempted to avow my Unitarianism.)
Miss W., who was standing by, said, ’Miss Lyman
will be an excellent spiritual adviser,’ and
we both looked very serious; when the mother wiped
her weeping eyes and said, ’And, Miss Mitchell,
will you ask Miss Lyman to insist that my daughter
shall curl her hair? She looks very graceful
when her hair is curled, and I want it insisted upon,’
I made a note of it with my pencil, and as I happened
to glance at Miss W. the corners of her mouth were
twitching, upon which I broke down and laughed.
The mother bore it very good-naturedly, but went on.
She wanted to know who would work some buttonholes
in her daughter’s dress that was not quite finished,
etc., and it all ended in her inviting me to
make her a visit.
“Oc, 1866. Our faculty
meetings always try me in this respect: we do
things that other colleges have done before. We
wait and ask for precedent. If the earth had
waited for a precedent, it never would have turned
on its axis!
“Sep, 1868. I have
written to-day to give up the Nautical Almanac work.
I do not feel sure that it will be for the best, but
I am sure that I could not hold the almanac and the
college, and father is happy here.
“I tell Miss Lyman that my father
is so much pleased with everything here that I am
afraid he will be immersed!” Only those who knew
Vassar College in its earlier days can tell of the
life that the father and daughter led there for four
years.
Mr. Mitchell died in 1869.
“Ja, 1868. Meeting
Dr. Hill at a private party, I asked him if Harvard
College would admit girls in fifty years. He said
one of the most conservative members of the faculty
had said, within sixteen days, that it would come
about in twenty years. I asked him if I could
go into one of Professor Peirce’s recitations.
He said there was nothing to keep me out, and that
he would let me know when they came.
“At eleven A.M., the next Friday,
I stood at Professor Peirce’s door. As
the professor came in I went towards him, and asked
him if I might attend his lecture. He said ‘Yes.’
I said ’Can you not say “I shall be happy
to have you"?’ and he said ‘I shall be
happy to have you,’ but he didn’t look
happy!
“It was with some little embarrassment
that Mrs. K. and I seated ourselves. Sixteen
young men came into the room; after the first glance
at us there was not another look, and the lecture went
on. Professor Peirce had filled the blackboard
with formulae, and went on developing them. He
walked backwards and forwards all the time, thinking
it out as he went. The students at first all
took notes, but gradually they dropped off until perhaps
only half continued. When he made simple mistakes
they received it in silence; only one, that one his
son (a tutor in college), remarked that he was wrong.
The steps of his lesson were all easy, but of course
it was impossible to tell whence he came or whither
he was going....
“The recitation-room was very
common-lookingwe could not tolerate such
at Vassar. The forms and benches of the recitation-room
were better for taking notes than ours are.
“The professor was polite enough
to ask us into the senior class, but I had an engagement.
I asked him if a young lady presented herself at the
door he could keep her out, and he said ‘No,
and I shouldn’t.’ I told him I would
send some of my girls.
“Oc, 1868. Resolved,
in case of my outliving father and being in good health,
to give my efforts to the intellectual culture of women,
without regard to salary; if possible, connect myself
with liberal Christian institutions, believing, as
I do, that happiness and growth in this life are best
promoted by them, and that what is good in this life
is good in any life.”
In August, 1869, Miss Mitchell, with
several of her Vassar students, went to Burlington,
Ia., to observe the total eclipse of the sun.
She wrote a popular account of her observations, which
was printed in “Hours at Home” for September,
1869. Her records were published in Professor
Coffin’s report, as she was a member of his party.
“Sep, 1871. My classes
came in to-day for the first time; twenty-five studentsmore
than ever before; fine, splendid-looking girls.
I felt almost frightened at the responsibility which
came into my handsof the possible twist
which I might give them.
“1871. I never look upon
the mass of girls going into our dining-room or chapel
without feeling their nobility, the sovereignty of
their pure spirit.”
The following letter from Miss Mitchell,
though written at a later date, gives an idea of the
practical observing done by her classes:
MY DEAR MISS :
I reply to your questions concerning the observatory
which you propose to establish. And, first, let
me congratulate you that you begin small.
A large telescope is a great luxury, but it is
an enormous expense, and not at all necessary
for teaching.... My beginning class uses only
a small portable equatorial. It stands out-doors
from 7 A.M. to 9 P.M. The girls are encouraged
to use it: they are expected to determine
the rotation of the sun on its axis by watching the
spotsthe same for the planet Jupiter;
they determine the revolution of Titan by watching
its motions, the retrograde and direct motion
of the planets among the stars, the position of the
sun with reference to its setting in winter and summer,
the phases of Venus. All their book learning
in astronomy should be mathematical. The
astronomy which is not mathematical is what is so
ludicrously called “Geography of the Heavens”is
not astronomy at all.
My senior class, generally small, say
six, is received as a class, but in practical
astronomy each girl is taught separately.
I believe in small classes. I instruct
them separately, first in the use of the meridian
instrument, and next in that of the equatorial.
They obtain the time for the college by meridian
passage of stars; they use the equatorial just
as far as they can do with very insufficient mechanism.
We work wholly on planets, and they are taught
to find a planet at any hour of the day, to make
drawings of what they see, and to determine positions
of planets and satellites. With the clock and
chronograph they determine difference of right ascension
of objects by the electric mode of recording.
They make, sometimes, very accurate drawings,
and they learn to know the satellites of Saturn
(Titan, Rhea, etc.) by their different physiognomy,
as they would persons. They have sometimes
measured diameters.
If you add to your observatory a meridian
instrument, I should advise a small one. Size
is not so important as people generally suppose.
Nicety and accuracy are what is needed in all scientific
work; startling effects by large telescopes and high
powers are too suggestive of sensational advertisement.
The relation between herself and her
pupils was quite remarkableit was very
cordial and intimate; she spoke of them always as her
“girls,” but at the same time she required
their very best work, and was intolerant of shirking,
or of an ambition to do what nature never intended
the girl in question to do.
One of her pupils writes thus:
“If it were only possible to tell you of what
Professor Mitchell did for one of her girls! ‘Her
girls!’ It meant so much to come into daily
contact with such a woman! There is no need of
speaking of her ability; the world knows what that
was. But as her class-room was unique, having
something of home in its belongings, so its atmosphere
differed from that of all others. Anxiety and
nervous strain were left outside of the door.
Perhaps one clue to her influence may be found in
her remark to the senior class in astronomy when ’76
entered upon its last year: ‘We are women
studying together.’
“Occasionally it happened that
work requiring two hours or more to prepare called
for little time in the class. Then would come
one of those treats which she bestowed so freely upon
her girls, and which seemed to put them in touch with
the great outside world. Letters from astronomers
in Europe or America, or from members of their families,
giving delightful glimpses of home life; stories of
her travels and of visits to famous people; accounts
of scientific conventions and of large gatherings
of women,not so common then as now,gave
her listeners a wider outlook and new interests.
“Professor Mitchell was chairman
of a standing committee of the American Association
for the Advancement of Women,that on women’s
work in science,and some of her students
did their first work for women’s organizations
in gathering statistics and filling out blanks which
she distributed among them.
“The benefits derived from my
college course were manifold, but time and money would
have been well spent had there been no return but that
of two years’ intercourse with Maria Mitchell.”
Another pupil, and later her successor
at Vassar College, Miss Mary W. Whitney, has said
of her method of teaching: “As a teacher,
Miss Mitchell’s gift was that of stimulus, not
that of drill. She could not drill; she would
not drive. But no honest student could escape
the pressure of her strong will and earnest intent.
The marking system she held in contempt, and wished
to have nothing to do with it. ’You cannot
mark a human mind,’ she said, ‘because
there is no intellectual unit;’ and upon taking
up her duties as professor she stipulated that she
should not be held responsible for a strict application
of the system.”
“July, 1887. My students
used to say that my way of teaching was like that
of the man who said to his son, ’There are the
letters of the English alphabetgo into
that corner and learn them.’
“It is not exactly my way, but
I do think, as a general rule, that teachers talk
too much! A book is a very good institution!
To read a book, to think it over, and to write out
notes is a useful exercise; a book which will not
repay some hard thought is not worth publishing.
The fashion of lecturing is becoming a rage; the teacher
shows herself off, and she does not try enough to
develop her pupils.
“The greatest object in educating
is to give a right habit of study....
“... Not too much mechanical
apparatuslet the imagination have some
play; a cube may be shown by a model, but let the drawing
upon the blackboard represent the cube; and if possible
let Nature be the blackboard; spread your triangles
upon land and sky.
“One of my pupils always threw
her triangles on the celestial vault above her head....
“A small apparatus well used
will do wonders. A celebrated chemist ordered
his servant to bring in the laboratoryon
a tray! Newton rolled up the cover of a book;
he put a small glass at one end, and a large brain
at the otherit was enough.
“When a student asks me, ‘What
specialty shall I follow?’ I answer, ‘Adopt
some one, if none draws you, and wait.’
I am confident that she will find the specialty engrossing.
“Fe, 1887. When I
came to Vassar, I regretted that Mr. Vassar did not
give full scholarships. By degrees, I learned
to think his plan of giving half scholarships better;
and to-day I am ready to say, ’Give no scholarships
at all.’
“I find a helping-hand lifts
the girl as crutches do; she learns to like the help
which is not self-help.
“If a girl has the public school,
and wants enough to learn, she will learn. It
is hard, but she was born to hardnessshe
cannot dodge it. Labor is her inheritance.
“I was born, for instance, incapable
of appreciating music. I mourn it. Should
I go to a music-school, therefore? No, avoid the
music-school; it is a very expensive branch of study.
When the public school has taught reading, writing,
and arithmetic, the boy or girl has his or her tools;
let them use these tools, and get a few hours for study
every day.
“... Do not give educational
aid to sickly young people. The old idea that
the feeble young man must be fitted for the ministry,
because the more sickly the more saintly, has gone
out. Health of body is not only an accompaniment
of health of mind, but is the cause; the converse may
be true,that health of mind causes health
of body; but we all know that intellectual cheer and
vivacity act upon the mind. If the gymnastic
exercise helps the mind, the concert or the theatre
improves the health of the body.
“Let the unfortunate young woman
whose health is delicate take to the culture of the
woods and fields, or raise strawberries, and avoid
teaching.
“Better give a young girl who
is poor a common-school education, a little lift,
and tell her to work out her own career. If she
have a distaste to the homely routine of life, leave
her the opportunity to try any other career, but let
her understand that she stands or falls by herself.
“... Not every girl should
go to college. The over-burdened mother of a
large family has a right to be aided by her daughter’s
hands. I would aid the mother and not the daughter.
“I would not put the exceptionally
smart girl from a very poor family into college,
unless she is a genius; and a genius should wait some
years to prove her genius.
“Endow the already established
institution with money. Endow the woman who shows
genius with time.
“A case at Johns Hopkins University
is an excellent one. A young woman goes into
the institution who is already a scholar; she shows
what she can do, and she takes a scholarship; she
is not placed in a happy valley of do nothing,she
is put into a workshop, where she can work.
“... We are all apt to
say, ’Could we have had the opportunity in life
that our neighbor had,’and we leave
the unfinished sentence to imply that we should have
been geniuses.
“No one ever says, ’If
I had not had such golden opportunities thrust upon
me, I might have developed by a struggle’!
But why look back at all? Why turn your eyes
to your shadow, when, by looking upward, you see your
rainbow in the same direction?
“But our want of opportunity
was our opportunityour privations were
our privilegesour needs were stimulants;
we are what we are because we had little and wanted
much; and it is hard to tell which was the more powerful
factor....
“Small aids to individuals, large aid to masses.
“The Russian Czar determined
to found an observatory, and the first thing he did
was to take a million dollars from the government treasury.
He sends to America to order a thirty-five inch telescope
from Alvan Clark,not to promote science,
but to surpass other nations in the size of his glass.
‘To him that hath shall be given.’
Read it, ’To him that hath should be
given.’
“To give wisely is hard.
I do not wonder that the millionaire founds a new
collegewhy should he not? Millionaires
are few, and he is a man by himselfhe
must have views, or he could not have earned a million.
But let the man or woman of ordinary wealth seek out
the best institution already started,the
best girl already in college,and give the
endowment.
“I knew a rich woman who wished
to give aid to some girls’ school, and she travelled
in order to find that institution which gave the most
solid learning with the least show. She found
it where few would expect it,in Tennessee.
It was worth while to travel.
“The aid that comes need not
be money; let it be a careful consideration of the
object, and an evident interest in the cause.
“When you aid a teacher, you
improve the education of your children. It is
a wonder that teachers work as well as they do.
I never look at a group of them without using, mentally,
the expression, ’The noble army of martyrs’!
“The chemist should have had
a laboratory, and the observatory should have had
an astronomer; but we are too apt to bestow money where
there is no man, and to find a man where there is
no money.
“If every girl who is aided
were a very high order of scholar, scholarship would
undoubtedly conquer poverty; but a large part of the
aided students are ordinary. They lack, at least,
executive power, as their ancestors probably did.
Poverty is a misfortune; misfortunes are often the
result of blamable indiscretion, extravagance, etc.
“It is one of the many blessings
of poverty that one is not obliged to ‘give
wisely.’”
1866. To her students: “I
cannot expect to make astronomers, but I do expect
that you will invigorate your minds by the effort at
healthy modes of thinking.... When we are chafed
and fretted by small cares, a look at the stars will
show us the littleness of our own interests.
“... But star-gazing is
not science. The entrance to astronomy is through
mathematics. You must make up your mind to steady
and earnest work. You must be content to get
on slowly if you only get on thoroughly....
“The phrase ‘popular science’
has in itself a touch of absurdity. That knowledge
which is popular is not scientific.
“The laws which govern the motions
of the sun, the earth, planets, and other bodies in
the universe, cannot be understood and demonstrated
without a solid basis of mathematical learning.
“Every formula which expresses
a law of nature is a hymn of praise to God.
“You cannot study anything persistently
for years without becoming learned, and although I
would not hold reputation up to you as a very high
object of ambition, it is a wayside flower which you
are sure to have catch at your skirts.
“Whatever apology other women
may have for loose, ill-finished work, or work not
finished at all, you will have none.
“When you leave Vassar College,
you leave it the best educated women in the world.
Living a little outside of the college, beyond the
reach of the little currents that go up and down the
corridors, I think I am a fairer judge of your advantages
than you can be yourselves; and when I say you will
be the best educated women in the world, I do not mean
the education of text-books, and class-rooms, and
apparatus, only, but that broader education which
you receive unconsciously, that higher teaching which
comes to you, all unknown to the givers, from daily
association with the noble-souled women who are around
you.”
“1871. When astronomers
compare observations made by different persons, they
cannot neglect the constitutional peculiarities of
the individuals, and there enters into these computations
a quantity called ’personal equation.’
In common terms, it is that difference between two
individuals from which results a difference in the
time which they require to receive and note
an occurrence. If one sees a star at one instant,
and records it, the record of another, of the same
thing, is not the same.
“It is true, also, that the
same individual is not the same at all times; so that
between two individuals there is a mean or middle
individual, and each individual has a mean or middle
self, which is not the man of to-day, nor the man
of yesterday, nor the man of to-morrow; but a middle
man among these different selves....
“We especially need imagination
in science. It is not all mathematics, nor all
logic, but it is somewhat beauty and poetry.
“There will come with the greater
love of science greater love to one another.
Living more nearly to Nature is living farther from
the world and from its follies, but nearer to the
world’s people; it is to be of them, with them,
and for them, and especially for their improvement.
We cannot see how impartially Nature gives of her
riches to all, without loving all, and helping all;
and if we cannot learn through Nature’s laws
the certainty of spiritual truths, we can at least
learn to promote spiritual growth while we are together,
and live in a trusting hope of a greater growth in
the future.
“... The great gain would
be freedom of thought. Women, more than men,
are bound by tradition and authority. What the
father, the brother, the doctor, and the minister
have said has been received undoubtingly. Until
women throw off this reverence for authority they will
not develop. When they do this, when they come
to truth through their investigations, when doubt
leads them to discovery, the truth which they get will
be theirs, and their minds will work on and on unfettered.
“I am but a woman!
“For women there are, undoubtedly,
great difficulties in the path, but so much the more
to overcome. First, no woman should say, ’I
am but a woman!’ But a woman! What more
can you ask to be?
“Born a womanborn
with the average brain of humanityborn
with more than the average heartif you
are mortal, what higher destiny could you have?
No matter where you are nor what you are, you are a
poweryour influence is incalculable; personal
influence is always underrated by the person.
We are all centres of sphereswe see the
portions of the sphere above us, and we see how little
we affect it. We forget the part of the sphere
around and before usit extends just as
far every way.
“Another common saying, ‘It
isn’t the way,’ etc. Who settles
the way? Is there any one so forgetful of the
sovereignty bestowed on her by God that she accepts
a leaderone who shall capture her mind?
“There is this great danger
in student life. Now, we rest all upon what Socrates
said, or what Copernicus taught; how can we dispute
authority which has come down to us, all established,
for ages?
“We must at least question it;
we cannot accept anything as granted, beyond the first
mathematical formulae. Question everything else.
“’The world is round, and
like a ball
Seems swinging in the air.’
“No such thing! the world is
not round, it does not swing, and it doesn’t
seem to swing!
“I know I shall be called heterodox,
and that unseen lightning flashes and unheard thunderbolts
will be playing around my head, when I say that women
will never be profound students in any other department
except music while they give four hours a day to the
practice of music. I should by all means
encourage every woman who is born with musical gifts
to study music; but study it as a science and an art,
and not as an accomplishment; and to every woman who
is not musical, I should say, ‘Don’t study
it at all;’ you cannot afford four hours a day,
out of some years of your life, just to be agreeable
in company upon possible occasions.
“If for four hours a day you
studied, year after year, the science of language,
for instance, do you suppose you would not be a linguist?
Do you put the mere pleasing of some social party,
and the reception of a few compliments, against the
mental development of four hours a day of study of
something for which you were born?
“When I see that girls who are
required by their parents to go through with the irksome
practising really become respectable performers, I
wonder what four hours a day at something which they
loved, and for which God designed them, would do for
them.
“I should think that to a real
scientist in music there would be something mortifying
in this rush of all women into music; as there would
be to me if I saw every girl learning the constellations,
and then thinking she was an astronomer!
“Ja, 1876. At the meeting
of graduates at the Deacon House, the speeches that
were made were mainly those of Dr. R. and Professor
B. I am sorry now that I did not at least say that
the college is what it is mainly because the early
students pushed up the course to a collegiate standard.
“Ja, 1876. It has
become a serious question with me whether it is not
my duty to beg money for the observatory, while what
I really long for is a quiet life of scientific speculation.
I want to sit down and study on the observations made
by myself and others.”
During her later years at Vassar,
Miss Mitchell interested herself personally in raising
a fund to endow the chair of astronomy. In March,
1886, she wrote: “I have been in New York
quite lately, and am quite hopeful that Miss
will do something for Vassar. Mrs. C., of Newburyport,
is to ask Whittier, who is said to be rich, and
told me to get anything I could out of her father.
But after all I am a poor beggar; my ideas are small!”
Since Miss Mitchell’s death,
the fund has been completed by the alumnae, and is
known as the Maria Mitchell Endowment Fund. With
$10,000 appropriated by the trustees it amounts to
$50,000.
“June 18, 1876. I had imagined
the Emperor of Brazil to be a dark, swarthy, tall
man, of forty-five years; that he would not really
have a crown upon his head, but that I should feel
it was somewhere around, handy-like, and that I should
know I was in royal presence. But he turns out
to be a large, old man,say, sixty-five,broad-headed
and broad-shouldered, with a big white beard, and
a very pleasant, even chatty, manner.
“Once inside of the dome, he
seemed to feel at home; to my astonishment he asked
if Alvan Clark made the glass of the equatorial.
As he stepped into the meridian-room, and saw the
instruments, he said, ‘Collimators?’ I
said, ‘You have been in observatories before.’
’Oh, yes, Cambridge and Washington,’ he
replied. He seemed much more interested in the
observatory than I could possibly expect. I asked
him to go on top of the roof, and he said he had not
time; yet he stayed long enough to go up several times.
I am told that he follows out, remarkably, his own
ideas as to his movements.”
In 1878, Miss Mitchell went to Denver,
Colorado, to observe the total eclipse of the sun.
She was accompanied by several of her former pupils.
She prepared an account of this eclipse, which will
be found in Chapter XI.
“Au, 1878. Dr. Raymond
[President of Vassar College] is dead. I cannot
quite take it in. I have never known the college
without him, and it will make all things different.
“Personally, I have always been
fond of him; he was very enjoyable socially and intellectually.
Officially he was, in his relations to the students,
perfect. He was cautious to a fault, and has probably
been very wise in his administration of college affairs.
He was broad in his religious views. He was not
broad in his ideas of women, and was made to broaden
the education of women by the women around him.
“June 18, 1881. The dome
party to-day was sixty-two in number. It was
breakfast, and we opened the dome; we seated forty
in the dome and twenty in the meridian-room.”
This “dome party” requires
a few words of explanation, because it was unique
among all the Vassar festivities. The week before
commencement, Miss Mitchell’s pupils would be
informed of the approaching gathering by a notice
like the following:
CIRCULAR.
The annual dome party will
be held at the observatory on
Saturday, the 19th, at 6 P.M.
You are cordially invited to be
present.
M. M.
[As this gathering is highly
intellectual, you are invited to
bring poems.]
It was, at first, held in the evening,
but during the last years was a breakfast party, its
character in other respects remaining the same.
Little tables were spread under the dome, around the
big telescope; the flowers were roses from Miss Mitchell’s
own garden. The “poems” were nonsense
rhymes, in the writing of which Miss Mitchell was an
adept. Each student would have a few verses of
a more or less personal character, written by Miss
Mitchell, and there were others written by the girls
themselves; some were impromptu; others were set to
music, and sung by a selected glee-club.
“June 5, 1881. We have
written what we call our dome poetry. Some nice
poems have come in to us. I think the Vassar girls,
in the main, are magnificent, they are so all-alive....
“May 20, 1882. Vassar is
getting pretty. I gathered lilies of the valley
this morning. The young robins are out in a tree
close by us, and the phoebe has built, as usual, under
the front steps.
“I am rushing dome poetry, but
so far show no alarming symptoms of brilliancy.”
A former student writes as follows about the dome
poetry:
“At the time it was read, though
it seemed mere merry nonsense, it really served a
more serious purpose in the work of one who did nothing
aimlessly. This apparent nonsense served as the
vehicle to convey an expression of approbation, affection,
criticism, or disapproval in such a merry mode that
even the bitterest draught seemed sweet.”
“1881, July 5. We left
Vassar, June 24, on the steamer ‘Galatea,’
from New York to Providence. I looked out of
my state-room window, and saw a strange-looking body
in the northern sky. My heart sank; I knew instantly
that it was a comet, and that I must return to the
observatory. Calling the young people around me,
and pointing it out to them, I had their assurance
that it was a comet, and nothing but a comet.
“We went to bed at nine, and
I arose at six in the morning. As soon as I could
get my nieces started for Providence, I started for
Stonington,the most easy of the ways of
getting to New York, as I should avoid Point Judith.
“I went to the boat at the Stonington
wharf about noon, and remained on board until morningthere
were few passengers, it was very quiet, and I slept
well.
“Arriving in New York, I took
cars at 9 A.M. for Poughkeepsie, and reached the college
at dinner-time. I went to work the same evening.
“As I could not tell at what
time the comet would pass the meridian, I stationed
myself at the telescope in the meridian-room by 10
P.M., and watched for the comet to cross. As
it approached the meridian, I saw that it would go
behind a scraggy apple-tree. I sent for the watchman,
Mr. Crumb, to come with a saw, and cut off the upper
limbs. He came back with an axe, and chopped
away vigorously; but as one limb after another fell,
and I said, ‘I need more, cut away,’ he
said, ’I think I must cut down the whole tree.’
I said, ‘Cut it down.’ I felt the
barbarism of it, but I felt more that a bird might
have a nest in it.
“I found, when I went to breakfast
the next morning, that the story had preceded me,
and I was called ‘George Washington.’
“But for all this, I got almost
no observation; the fog came up, and I had scarcely
anything better than an estimation. I saw the
comet blaze out, just on the edge of the field, and
I could read its declination only.
“On the 28th, 29th, and July
1st, I obtained good meridian passages, and the R.A.
must be very good.
“Ja, 1882. There is
a strange sentence in the last paragraph of Dr. Jacobi’s
article on the study of medicine by women, to the effect
that it would be better for the husband always to
be superior to the wife. Why? And if so,
does not it condemn the ablest women to a single life?
“March 13, 1882, 3 P.M.
I start for faculty, and we probably shall elect what
are called the ‘honor girls.’ I dread
the struggle that is pretty certain to come.
Each of us has some favorite whom she wishes to put
into the highest class, and whom she honestly believes
to be of the highest order of merit. I never
have the whole ten to suit me, but I can truly say
that at this minute I do not care. I should be
sorry not to see S., and W., and P., and E., and G.,
and K. on the list of the ten, but probably that is
more than I ought to expect. The whole system
is demoralizing and foolish. Girls study for
prizes, and not for learning, when ‘honors’
are at the end. The unscholarly motive is wearing.
If they studied for sound learning, the cheer which
would come with every day’s gain would be health-preserving.
“... I have seven advanced
students, and to-day, when I looked around to see
who should be called to help look out for meteors,
I could consider only one of them not already
overworked, and she was the post-graduate, who took
no honors, and never hurried, and has always been
an excellent student.
“... We are sending home
some girls already [November 14], and
is among them. I am somewhat alarmed at the dropping
down, but does an enormous amount
of work, belongs to every club, and writes for every
club and for the ‘Vassar Miscellany,’ etc.;
of course she has the headache most of the time.
“Sometimes I am distressed for
fear Dr. Clarke is not so far wrong; but I do
not think it is the studyit is the morbid
conscientiousness of the girls, who think they must
work every minute.
“April 26, 1882. Miss Herschel
came to the college on the 11th, and stayed three
days. She is one of the little girls whom I saw,
twenty-three years since, playing on the lawn at Sir
John Herschel’s place, Collingwood.
“... Miss Herschel was
just perfect as a guest; she fitted in beautifully.
The teachers gave a reception for her,
gave her his poem, and Henry, the gardener, found
out that the man in whose employ he lost a finger
was her brother-in-law, in Leeds!
“Ja, 1884. Mr. [Matthew]
Arnold has been to the college, and has given his
lecture on Emerson. The audience was made up of
three hundred students, and three hundred guests from
town. Never was a man listened to with so much
attention. Whether he is right in his judgment
or not, he held his audience by his manly way, his
kindly dissection, and his graceful English.
Socially, he charmed us all. He chatted with every
one, he smiled on all. He said he was sorry to
leave the college, and that he felt he must come to
America again. We have not had such an awakening
for years. It was like a new volume of old English
poetry.
“March 16, 1885. In February,
1831, I counted seconds for father, who observed the
annular eclipse at Nantucket. I was twelve and
a half years old. In 1885, fifty-four years later,
I counted seconds for a class of students at Vassar;
it was the same eclipse, but the sun was only about
half-covered. Both days were perfectly clear and
cold.”