[Transcriber's Note: Footnotes have been renumbered and moved to the end. ]

A Practical Illustration of "Woman's Right to Labor;"

or, A Letter from Marie E. Zakrzewska, M. D. Late of Berlin, Prussia

Edited By

Caroline H. Dall, Author of "Woman's Right To Labor, ""Historical Pictures Retouched, " &c. &c. 

 "Whoso cures the plague, Though twice a woman, shall be called a leech. "

 "And witness: she who did this thing was born To do it; claims her license in her work. "

 Aurora Leigh. 

1860. 

To the Hon. Samuel E. Sewall, Faithful Always To "Women And Work, " and Oneof the Best Friends of The New-England Female Medical College, The EditorGratefully Dedicates This Volume. 

 "The men (who are prating, too, on their side) cry, 'A woman's function plainly is ... To talk. '"

 "What He doubts is, whether we can _do_ the thing With decent grace we've not yet done at all. Now do it. "

 "Bring your statue: You have room. "

 "None of us is mad enough to say We'll have a grove of oaks upon that slope, And sink the need of acorns. "

Preface. 

It is due to myself to say, that the manner in which the Autobiography issubordinated to the general subject in the present volume, and also themanner in which it is _veiled_ by the title, are concessions to themodesty of her who had the best right to decide in what fashion I shouldprofit by her goodness, and are very far from being my own choice. 

Caroline H. Dall. 

49. Bradford Street, Boston, Oct. 30, 1860. 

Practical Illustration of "Woman's Right to Labor"

It never happens that a true and forcible word is spoken for women, that, however faithless and unbelieving women themselves may be, some noble mendo not with heart and hand attempt to give it efficiency. 

If women themselves are hard upon their own sex, men are never so inearnest. They realize more profoundly than women the depth of affectionand self-denial in the womanly soul; and they feel also, with crushingcertainty, the real significance of the obstacles they have themselvesplaced in woman's way. 

Reflecting men are at this moment ready to help women to enter widerfields of labor, because, on the one side, the destitution and vice theyhave helped to create appalls their consciousness; and, on the other, aprofane inanity stands a perpetual blasphemy in the face of the Most High. 

I do not exaggerate. Every helpless woman is such a blasphemy. So, indeed, is every helpless man, where helplessness is not born of idiocy orcalamity; but society neither expects, provides for, nor defends, helplessmen. 

So it happened, that, after the publication of "Woman's Right to Labor, "generous men came forward to help me carry out my plans. The best printerin Boston said, "I am willing to take women into my office at once, if youcan find women who will submit to an apprenticeship like men. " On the sameconditions, a distinguished chemist offered to take a class of women, andtrain them to be first-class apothecaries or scientific observers, as theymight choose. To these offers there were no satisfactory responses. "Yes, "said the would-be printers, "we will go into an office for six months;but, by that time, our oldest sisters will be married, and our motherswill want us at home. "

"An apprenticeship of six years!" exclaimed the young lady of a chemicalturn. "I should like to learn very much, so that I could be a chemist, _ifI ever had to_; but poison myself for six years over those 'fumes, ' notI. " It is easy to rail against society and men in general: but it is verypainful for a woman to confess her heaviest obstacle to success; namely, the _weakness of women_. The slave who dances, unconscious of degradationon the auction-block, is at once the greatest stimulus and the bitterestdiscouragement of the antislavery reformer: so women, contented inignominious dependence, restless even to insanity from the need of healthyemployment and the perversion of their instincts, and confessedly lookingto marriage for salvation, are at once a stimulus to exertion, and anobstacle in our way. But no kind, wise heart will heed this obstacle. Having spoken plain to society, having won the sympathy of men, let us seeif we cannot compel the attention of these well-disposed but thoughtlessdamsels. 

"Six years out of the very bloom of our lives to be spent in theprinting-office or the laboratory!" exclaim the dismayed band; and theyflutter out of reach along the sidewalks of Beacon Street, or through themazes of the "Lancers. "

But what happens ten years afterward, when, from twenty-six to thirty, they find themselves pushed off the _pavé_, or left to blossom on thewall? Desolate, because father and brother have died; disappointed, because well-founded hopes of a home or a "career" have failed;impoverished, because they depended on strength or means that arebroken, --what have they now to say to the printing-office or theapothecary's shop? They enter both gladly; with quick woman's wit, learning as much in six months as men would in a year; but grumbling anddiscontented, that, in competing with men who have spent their whole livesin preparation, they can only be paid at half-wages. What does commonsense demand, if not that women should make thorough preparation fortrades or professions; and, having taken up a resolution, should abide byall its consequences like men?

Before cases like these my lips are often sealed, and my hands dropparalyzed. Not that they alter God's truth, or make the duty of protestagainst existing wrong any less incumbent: but they obscure the truth;they needlessly complicate the duty. 

Perplexed and anxious, I have often felt that what I needed most was anexample to set before young girls, --an example not removed by superiorityof station, advantage of education, or unwonted endowment, beyond theirgrasp and imitation. 

There was Florence Nightingale. But her father had a title: it was fairto presume that her opportunities were titled also. All the girls I knewwished they could have gone to the Crimea; while I was morally certain, that the first amputation would have turned them all faint. There wasDorothea Dix: she had money and time. It was not strange that she hadgreat success; for she started, a monomaniac in philanthropy, from thesummit of personal independence. Mrs. John Stuart Mill: had she everwanted bread? George Sand: the woman wasn't respectable. In short, whomsoever I named, who had pursued with undeviating perseverance a worthycareer, my young friends had their objections ready. No one had ever beenso poor, so ill educated, so utterly without power to help herself, asthey; and, provoking as these objections were, I felt that they had force. My young friends were not great geniuses: they were ordinary women, whoshould enter the ordinary walks of life with the ordinary steadfastnessand devotion of men in the same paths; nothing more. What I wanted was anexample, --not too stilted to be useful, --a life flowing out ofcircumstances not dissimilar to their own, but marked by a steady will, anunswerving purpose. As I looked back over my own life, and wished I couldread them its lessons, --and I looked back a good way; for I was veryyoung, when the miserable destitution of a drunkard's wife, whom Iassisted, showed me how comfortable a thing it was to rest at the mercy ofthe English common law, --as I looked back over my long interest in theposition of woman, I felt that my greatest drawback had been the want ofsuch an example. Every practical experiment that the world recorded hadbeen made under such peculiar circumstances, or from such a fortuitousheight, that it was at once rejected as a lesson. 

One thing I felt profoundly: as men sow they must reap; and so must women. The practical misery of the world--its terrible impurity will never beabated till women prepare themselves from their earliest years to enterthe arena of which they are ambitious, and stand there at last mature andcalm, but, above all, _thoroughly trained_; trained also at _the side ofthe men_, with whom they must ultimately work; and not likely, thereforeto lose balance or fitness by being thrown, at the last moment, intounaccustomed relations. A great deal of nonsense has been talked latelyabout the unwillingness of women to enter the reading-room of the CooperInstitute, where men also resort. 

"A woman's library, " in any city, is one of the partial measures that Ideprecate: so I only partially rejoice over the late establishment of sucha library in New York. I look upon it as one of those half-measures whichmust be endured in the progress of any desired reform; and, while I wishthe Cooper Institute and its reading-room God-speed with every fibre of myconsciousness, I have no words with which to express my shame at themingled hypocrisy and indelicacy of those who object to use it. What womanstays at home from a ball because she will meet men there? What womanrefuses to walk Broadway in the presence of the stronger sex? What womanrefuses to buy every article of her apparel from the hands of a man, or tolet the woman's tailor or shoemaker take the measure of her waist or foot;try on and approve her coiffure or bernouse?

What are we to think, then, of the delicacy which shrinks from thereading-room frequented by men; which discovers so suddenly that magazinesare more embarrassing than mazourkas; that to read in a cloak and hatbefore a man is more indelicate than to waltz in his presence half denudedby fashion?

Of course, we are to have no patience with it, and to refuse utterly toentertain a remonstrance so beneath propriety. 

The object of my whole life has been to inspire in women a desire for_thorough training_ to some special end, and a willingness to share thetraining of men both for specific and moral reasons. Only by sharing suchtraining can women be sure that they will be well trained; only byGod-ordained, natural communion of all men and women can the highest moralresults be reached. 

"Free labor and free society:" I have said often to myself, in these twophrases lies hidden the future purification of society. When men and womengo everywhere together, the sights they dare not see together will nolonger exist. 

Fair and serene will rise before them all heights of possible attainment;and, looking off over the valleys of human endeavor together, they willclear the forest, drain the morass, and improve the interval stirred by acommon impulse. 

When neither has any thing to hide from the other, no social duty willseem too difficult to be undertaken; and, when the interest of each sex isto secure the purity of the other, neither religion nor humanity needdespair of the result. 

It was while fully absorbed in thoughts and purposes like these, that, inthe autumn of 1856, I first saw Marie Zakrzewska. [1] During a short visitto Boston (for she was then resident in New York), a friend brought herbefore a physiological institute, and she addressed its members. 

She spoke to them of her experience in the hospital at Berlin, and showedthat the most sinning, suffering woman never passed beyond the reach of awoman's sympathy and help. She had not, at that time, thoroughly masteredthe English language; though it was quite evident that she was fluent, even to eloquence, in German. Now and then, a word failed her; and, with asort of indignant contempt at the emergency, she forced unaccustomed wordsto do her service, with an adroitness and determination that I never sawequalled. I got from it a new revelation of the power of the Englishlanguage. She illustrated her noble and nervous thoughts with incidentsfrom her own experience one of which was told in a manner which impressedit for ever on my consciousness. 

"Soon after I entered the hospital, " said Marie, "the nurse called me to award where sixteen of the most forlorn objects had begun to fight witheach other. The inspector and the young physicians had been called tothem, but dared not enter the _mêlée_. When I arrived, pillows, chairs, foot-stools and vessels had deserted their usual places; and one stoutlittle woman, with rolling eyes and tangled hair, lifted a vessel ofslops, which she threatened to throw all over me, as she exclaimed, 'Don'tdare to come here, you green young thing!'

"I went quietly towards her, saying gently, 'Be ashamed, my dear woman, ofyour fury. '

"Her hands dropped. Seizing me by the shoulder she exclaimed, 'You don'tmean that you look on me as a woman?'

"'How else?' I answered; while she retreated to her bed, all the reststanding in the attitudes into which passion had thrown them. 

"'Arrange your beds, ' I said; 'and in fifteen minutes let me return, andfind every thing right. ' When I returned, all was as I had desired; everywoman standing at her bedside. The short woman was missing; but, bendingon each a friendly glance, I passed through the ward, which never gave meany more trouble. 

"When, late at night, I entered my room, it was fragrant with violets. Agreen wreath surrounded an old Bible, and a little bouquet rested uponit. I did not pause to speculate over this sentimentality, but threwmyself weary upon the bed; when a light tap at the door startled me. Theshort woman entered; and humbling herself on the floor, since she wouldnot sit in my presence entreated to be heard. 

"'You called me a woman, ' she said, 'and you pity us. Others call us bythe name the world gives us. You would help us, if help were possible. Allthe girls love you, and are ashamed before you; and therefore _I_ hateyou--no: I will not hate you any longer. There was a time when I mighthave been saved, --I and Joanna and Margaret and Louise. We were not bad. Listen to me. If _you_ say there is any hope, I will yet be an honestwoman. '

"She had had respectable parents; and, when twenty years old, was desertedby her lover, who left her three months pregnant. Otherwise kind, herfamily perpetually reproached her with her disgrace, and threatened tosend her away. At last, she fled to Berlin; keeping herself from utterstarvation, by needlework. In the hospital to which she went forconfinement, she took the small-pox. When she came out, with her baby inher arms, her face was covered with red blotches. Not even the lowestrefuge was open to her, her appearance was so frightful. With her babydragging at her empty breast, she wandered through the streets. An old hagtook pity on both; and, carefully nursed till health returned, her goodhumor and native wit made those about her forget her ugly face. She was ina brothel, where she soon took the lead. Her child died, and she once moreattempted to earn her living as a seamstress. She was saved fromstarvation only by her employer, who received her as his mistress. Now herluck changed: she suffered all a woman could; handled poison and thefirebrand. 'I thought of stealing, ' she said, 'only as an amusement: itwas not exciting enough for a trade. '. She found herself in prison; andwas amused to be punished for a trifle, when nobody suspected her crime. It was horrible to listen to these details; more horrible to witness herfirst repentance. 

"When I thanked her for her violets, she kissed my hands, and promised tobe good. 

"While she remained in the hospital, I took her as my servant, and trustedevery thing to her; and, when finally discharged, she went out to service. She wished to come with me to America. I could not bring her; but shefollowed, and, when I was in Cleveland, inquired for me in New York. "

It will be impossible, for those who have not heard such stories from thelips and in the dens of the sufferers, to feel as I felt when this droppedfrom the pure lips of the lecturer. For the first time I saw a woman whoknew what I knew, felt what I felt, and was strong in purpose and power toaccomplish our common aim, --the uplifting of the fallen, the employment ofthe idle, and the purification of society. 

I needed no farther introduction to Marie Zakrzewska. I knew nothing ofher previous history or condition; but when I looked upon her clear, broadforehead, I saw "Faithful unto death" bound across it like a phylactery. Idid not know how many years she had studied; but I saw thoroughnessingrained into her very muscle. I asked no questions of the clear, stronggaze that pierced the assembly; but I felt very sure that it could be astender as it was keen. For the first time I saw a woman in a publicposition, about whom I felt thoroughly at ease; competent to all she hadundertaken, and who had undertaken nothing whose full relations to her sexand society she did not understand. 

I thanked God for the sight, and very little thought that I should seeher again. She came once more, and we helped her to establish the Women'sInfirmary in New York; again, and we installed her as Resident Physicianin the New-England Female Medical College. 

I had never felt any special interest in this college. I was willing itshould exist as one of the half-way measures of which I have spoken, --likethe reading-room in New York; but I was bent on opening the colleges whichalready existed to women, and I left it to others to nurse the young lifeof this. The first medical men, I felt assured, would never, in thepresent state of public opinion, take an interest in a _female_ college;and I desired, above all things, to protect women from second-rateinstruction. 

But, when Marie Zakrzewska took up her residence in Springfield Street, itwas impossible to feel indifferent. Here was a woman born to inspirefaith; meeting all men as her equals till they proved themselves superior;capable of spreading a contagious fondness for the study of medicine, asDr. Black once kindled a chemical enthusiasm in Edinburgh. 

Often did I ponder her past life, which had left significant lines onface and form. We met seldom, --always with perfect trust. Whatever I mighthave to say, I should have felt sure of being understood, if I had notseen her for six months; nor could she have failed to find a welcome in myheart for any words of hers. 

Then I heard the course of lectures which she delivered to ladies in thespring of 1860. For the first time, I heard a woman speak of scientificsubjects in a way that satisfied me; nor should I have blushed to findscientific men among her audience. I had felt, from the first, that herlife might do what my words never could: namely, inspire women with faithto try their own experiments; give them a dignity, which should refuse tolook forward to marriage as an end, while it would lead them to accept itgladly as a providential help. I did not fear that she would be untrue toher vocation, or easily forsake it for a more domestic sphere. She had notentered 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 privateconversation, last summer with Miss Mary L. Booth of New York, I heardwith undisguised pleasure that she had in her possession an autobiographyof her friend, in the form of a letter. I really longed to get possessionof that letter so intensely, that I dared not ask to see it: but I urgedMiss Booth to get consent to its publication; "for, " I said, "no singlething will help my work, I am convinced, so much. "

"I look forward to its publication, " she replied, "with great delight: itwill be the sole labor of love, of my literary life. But neither you nor Ibelieve in reputations which death and posterity have not confirmed. Whatreasons could I urge to Marie for its present publication?"

"The good of her own sex, " I replied, "and a better knowledge of theintimate relations existing between free labor and a pure society. I knownothing of our friend's early circumstances; but I cannot be mistaken inthe imprint they have left. This is one of those rare cases, in which alife 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 laidbefore me the coveted manuscript. "It is yours, " she said, "to publish ifyou choose. I have got Marie's consent. She gave it very reluctantly; buther convictions accord with yours, and she does not think she has anyright to refuse. As for me, " Miss Booth continued, "I resign withoutregret my dearest literary privilege, because I feel that the position youhave earned in reference to 'woman's labor' entitles you to edit it. "

In an interview which I afterwards held with Marie Zakrzewska, she gave meto understand, that, had she been of American birth, she would never haveconsented to the publication of her letter in her lifetime. "But, " shesaid, "I am a foreigner. You who meet me and sustain me are entitled toknow 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 lifejust now beginning. It will make a good sequel to 'Woman's Right toLabor. '"

"Only too good, " I thought. "May God bless the lesson!"

It was agreed between Miss Booth and myself, that the autobiography shouldkeep its original, simple form, to indicate how and why it was written: soI invite my friends to read it at once with me. Here is something asentertaining as a novel, and as useful as a treatise. Here is a storywhich must enchant the conservative, while it inspires the reformer. Thesomewhat hazy forms of Drs. Schmidt and Müller, the king's order to therebellious electors, the historic prestige of a Prussian locality, --allthese will lend a magic charm to the plain lesson which New York andBoston need. 

 * * * * *

New York, September, 1857. 

Dear Mary, It is especially for your benefit that I write these facts of my life. Iam not a great personage, either through inherited qualifications or thework that I have to show to the world; yet you may find, in reading thislittle sketch, that with few talents, and very moderate means fordeveloping them, I have accomplished more than many women of genius andeducation would have done in my place, for the reason that confidence andfaith in their own powers were wanting. And, for this reason, I know thatthis story might be of use to others, by encouraging those who timidlyshrink from the field of action, though endowed with all that is necessaryto enable them to come forth and do their part in life. The fact that awoman of no extraordinary powers can make her way by the simpledetermination, that whatever she can do she will do, must inspire thosewho are fitted to do much, yet who do nothing because they are notaccustomed to determine and decide for themselves. 

I do not intend to weary you with details of my childhood, as I think thatchildren are generally very uninteresting subjects of conversation to anyexcept their parents, who naturally discover what is beautiful andattractive in them, and appreciate what is said in correspondence withtheir own feelings. I shall, therefore, only tell you a few facts of thisperiod of my life, which I think absolutely necessary to illustrate mycharacter and nature. 

I was born in Berlin, Prussia, on the 6th of September, 1829; and am theeldest of a family of five sisters and one brother. My early childhoodpassed happily, though heavy clouds of sorrow and care at timesovershadowed our family circle. I was of a cheerful disposition; and wasalways in good humor, even when sick. I was quiet and gentle in all myamusements: my chief delight consisting in telling stories to my sister, one year younger than myself, who was always glad to listen to theseproducts of my imagination, which were wholly original; for no storieswere told me, nor had I any children's books. My heroes and heroines weregenerally distinguished for some mental peculiarity, --being kind orcruel, active or indolent, --which led them into all sorts of adventurestill it suited my caprice to terminate their career. In all our littleaffairs, I took the lead, planning and directing every thing; while myplaymates seemed to take it for granted, that it was their duty to carryout my commands. 

My memory is remarkable in respect to events that occurred at this time, while it always fails to recall dates and names. When twenty years of age, I asked my father what sort of a festival he took me to once, in companywith a friend of his with only one arm, when we walked through meadowswhere daisies were blossoming in millions, and where we rode in carriagesthat went round continually until they were wound up. My father answered, with much surprise, that it was a public festival of the cabinet-makers, which was celebrated in a neighboring village; and that I was, at thattime, only nineteen months old. 

He was so much interested in my story, that I related another of mymemories. One dark morning, my mother wakened me, and hastened mydressing. After this was accomplished, she handed me a cup of somethingwhich I had never tasted before, and which was as disagreeable asassafoetida in later years. This was some coffee, which I had to takeinstead of my usual milk. Then I went with my father to the large parkcalled Thiergarten, where we saw the sun rise. I began to spring about;looking at the big oaks which seemed to reach into the heavens, orstooping down to pluck a flower. Birds of all kinds were singing inchorus, while the flower-beds surrounding the statue of Flora scented thepure morning air with the sweetest of perfumes. The sun ascended, meanwhile, from the edge of a little pond covered with water-lilies. I wasintoxicated with joy. The feeling of that morning is as fresh to-day aswhen I related this to my father. I know I walked till I got fairly tired, and we reached a solitary house beyond the park. Probably fatigue tookentire possession of me; for I remember nothing more till we were on ourway home, and the sun was setting. Then I begged for some large yellowplums which I saw in the stores. My father bought some, but gave me only afew; while I had a desire for all, and stole them secretly from hispockets; so that, when we reached home, I had eaten them all. I was sickafter I went to bed, and remember taking some horrible stuff the nextmorning (probably rhubarb); thus ending the day, which had opened sopoetically, in rather a prosaic manner. When I repeated this, my parentslaughed, and said that I was only twenty-six months old, when my father'spride in his oldest child induced him to take me on this visit; when Iwalked the whole way, which was about _nine miles_. These anecdotes areworth preserving, only because they indicate an impressionable nature, andgreat persistence of muscular endurance. It is peculiar, that betweenthese two events, and a third which occurred a year after, every thingshould be a blank. 

A little brother was then born to me, and lay undressed upon a cushion, while my father cried with sobs. I had just completed my third year, andcould not understand why, the next day, this little thing was carried offin a black box. 

From that time, I remember almost every day's life. 

I very soon began to manifest the course of my natural tendencies. Likemost little girls, I was well provided with dolls; and, on the day after anew one came into my possession, I generally discovered that the dearlittle thing was ill, and needed to be nursed and doctored. Porridges andteas were accordingly cooked on my little toy stove, and administered tothe poor doll, until the _papier-mâché_ was thoroughly saturated andbroken; when she was considered dead, and preparations were made for herburial, --this ceremony being repeated over and over again. White dresseswere put on for the funeral; a cricket was turned upside-down to serve asthe coffin; my mother's flower-pots furnished the green leaves fordecoration; and I delivered the funeral oration in praise of the littlesufferer, while placing her in the tomb improvised of chairs. I hardlyever joined the other children in their plays, except upon occasions likethese, when I appeared in the characters of doctor, priest, andundertaker; generally improving the opportunity to moralize; informing myaudience, that Ann (the doll) had died in consequence of disobeying hermother by going out before she had recovered from the measles, &c. Once Iremember moving my audience to tears by telling them that little Ann hadbeen killed by her brother, who, in amusing himself with picking off thedry skin after she had had the scarlatina, had carelessly torn off thereal skin over the heart, as they could see; thus leaving it to beat inthe air, and causing the little one to die. This happened after we had allhad the scarlatina. 

When five years old, I was sent to a primary school. Here I became thefavorite of the teacher of arithmetic; for which study I had quite afancy. The rest of the teachers disliked me. They called me unruly becauseI would not obey arbitrary demands without receiving some reason, andobstinate because I insisted on following my own will when I knew that Iwas in the right. I was told that I was not worthy to be with myplaymates; and when I reached the highest class in the school, in whichalone the boys and girls were taught separately, I was separated from thelatter, and was placed with the boys by way of punishment, receivinginstructions with them from men, while the girls in the other class weretaught by women. Here I found many friends. I joined the boys in all theirsports; sliding and snow-balling with them in winter, and running andplaying ball in summer. With them I was merry, frank, and self-possessed;while with the girls I was quiet, shy, and awkward. I never made friendswith the girls, or felt like approaching them. 

Once only, when I was eleven years old, a girl in the young ladies'seminary in which I had been placed when eight years of age won myaffection. This was Elizabeth Hohenhorst, a child of twelve, remarkablyquiet, and disposed to melancholy. She was a devout Catholic; and, knowingthat she was fated to become a nun, was fitting herself for that drearydestiny, which rendered her very sentimental She was full of fancifulvisions, but extremely sweet and gentle in her manners. My love for herwas unbounded. I went to church in her company, was present at all thereligious festivals, and accompanied her to receive religious instruction:in short, I made up my mind to become a Catholic, and, if possible, a nunlike herself. My parents, who were Rationalists, belonging to no church, gave me full scope to follow out my own inclinations; leaving it to mynature to choose for me a fitting path. This lasted until Elizabeth wentfor the first time to the confessional; and, when the poor innocent childcould find no other sin of which to speak than the friendship which shecherished for a Protestant, the priest forbade her to continue this, untilI, too, had become a Catholic; reminding her of the holiness of her futurecareer. The poor girl conscientiously promised to obey. When I came thenext morning and spoke to her as usual, she turned away from me, and burstinto tears. Surprised and anxious, I asked what was the matter; when, in avoice broken with sobs, she told me the whole story, and begged me tobecome a Catholic as soon as I was fourteen years old. Never in my wholelife shall I forget that morning. For a moment, I gazed on her with thedeepest emotion, pitying her almost more than myself; then suddenly turnedcoldly and calmly away, without answering a single word. My mind hadawakened to the despotism of Roman Catholicism, and the church had lostits expected convert. I never went near her again, and never exchangedanother word with her. This was the only friend I had during eight and ahalf years of uninterrupted attendance at school. 

A visit that I paid to my maternal grandfather, when seven or eight yearsold, made a strong impression on my mind. My grandfather, on his returnfrom the war of 1813-15, in which he had served, had received from theauthorities of Prenzlau (the city in which he lived) a grant of ahalf-ruined cloister, with about a hundred acres of uncultivated landattached, by way of acknowledgment for his services. He removed thitherwith his family; and shortly after invited the widows of some soldiers, who lived in the city, to occupy the apartments which he did not need. Thehabitable rooms were soon filled to overflowing with widows and orphans, who went to work with him to cultivate the ground. It was not long beforecrippled and invalid soldiers arrived, begging to be allowed to repair thecloister, and to find a shelter also within its walls. They were set towork at making brick, the material for which my grandfather had discoveredon his land: and, in about five years, an institution was built, the morevaluable from the fact that none lived there on charity, but all earnedwhat they needed by cultivating the ground; having first built their owndwelling, which, at this time, looked like a palace, surrounded by trees, grass, and flowers. Here, in the evening, the old soldiers sung martialsongs, or told stories of the wars to the orphans gathered about them, while resting from the labors of the day. 

I tell you of this institution so minutely, to prove to you how wrong itis to provide charitable homes for the poor as we provide them, --homes inwhich the charity always humiliates and degrades the individual. Here youhave an instance in which poor crippled invalids and destitute women andchildren established and supported themselves, under the guidance of aclear-headed, benevolent man, who said, "Do what you like, but work forwhat you need. " He succeeded admirably, though he died a very poor man;his younger children becoming inmates of the establishment, until theywere adopted by their relatives. 

When I visited my grandfather, the "convent, " as he insisted on callingit, --rejecting any name that would have indicated a charitableinstitution, --contained about a hundred invalid soldiers, a hundred oldwomen, and two hundred and fifty orphans. One of the wings of the buildingwas fitted up as a hospital, and a few of the rooms were occupied bylunatics. It was my greatest delight to take my grandfather's hand atnoon, as he walked up and down the dining-room, between the long tables, around which were grouped so many cheerful, hearty faces; and I stoodbefore him with an admiration that it is impossible to describe, as heprayed, with his black velvet cap in his hand, before and after dinner;though I could not comprehend why he should thank another person for whathad been done, when every one there told me that all that they had theyowed to my grandfather. 

One afternoon, on returning from the dining-room to his study, I spied onhis desk a neatly written manuscript. I took it up, and began to read. Itwas a dissertation on immortality, attempting by scientific arguments toprove its impossibility. I became greatly interested, and read on withoutnoticing that my grandfather had left the room, nor that the large bellhad rung to call the family to dinner. My grandfather, a very punctualman, who would never allow lingering, came back to call and to reprimandme; when he suddenly started on seeing the paper in my hands, and, snatching it from me, tore it in pieces, exclaiming, "That man is insane, and will make this child so too!" A little frightened, I went to thedinner-table, thinking as much about my grandfather's words as about whatI had read; without daring, however, to ask who this man was. The nextday, curiosity mastered fear. I asked my grandfather who had written thatpaper; and was told, in reply, that it was poor crazy Jacob. I then beggedto see him; but this my grandfather decidedly refused, saying that he waslike a wild beast, and lay, without clothes, upon the straw. I knewnothing of lunatics; and the idea of a wild man stimulated my curiosity tosuch an extent, that, from that time, I teased my grandfather incessantlyto let me see Jacob, until he finally yielded, to be rid of myimportunity, and led me to the cell in which he was confined. What aspectacle presented itself in the house that I had looked on as the abodeof so much comfort! On a bundle of straw, in a corner of a room, with nofurniture save its bare walls, sat a man, clad only in a shirt; with theleft hand chained to the wall, and the right foot to the floor. Aninkstand stood on the floor by his side; and on his knee was some paper, on which he was writing. His hair and beard were uncombed, and his fineeyes glared with fury as we approached him. He tried to rise, ground histeeth, made grimaces, and shook his fist at my grandfather, who tried invain to draw me out of the room. But, escaping from his grasp, I steppedtowards the lunatic, who grew more quiet when he saw me approach; and Itried to lift the chain, which had attracted my attention. Then, findingit too heavy for me, I turned to my grandfather and asked, "Does not thishurt the poor man?" I had hardly spoken the words when his fury returned, and he shrieked, --

"Have I not always told you that you were cruel to me? Must this childcome to convince you of your barbarity? Yes: you have no heart. "

I looked at my grandfather: all my admiration of him was gone; and I said, almost commandingly, --"Take off these chains! It is bad of you to tie thisman!"

The man grew calm at once, and asked imploringly to be set free;promising to be quiet and tractable if my grandfather would give him atrial. This was promised him: his chains were removed the same day; andJacob was ever after not only harmless and obedient, but also a veryuseful man in the house. 

I never afterwards accompanied my grandfather. I had discovered a side inhis nature which repelled me. I spent the remainder of my visit in theworkrooms and the sickroom, always secretly fearing that I should meetwith some new cruelty; but no such instance ever came to my view. 

On my return from my grandfather's, I found that a cousin had suddenlybecome blind. She was soon after sent to the ophthalmic hospital, whereshe remained for more than a year; and, during this time, I was herconstant companion after school-hours. I was anxious to be useful to her;and, being gentler than the nurse, she liked to have me wash out theissues that were made in her back and arms. The nurse, who was verywilling to be relieved of the duty, allowed me to cleanse the eyes of thegirl next my cousin; and thus these cares were soon made to depend on mydaily visit. Child as I was, I could not help observing the carelessnessof the nurses, and their great neglect of cleanliness. One day, when thehead-nurse had washed the floor, leaving pools of water standing under thebeds, the under-nurse found fault with it, and said, "I shall tell thedoctor, when he comes, why it is that the patients always have colds. ""Do, " said the head-nurse. "What do men understand of such matters? Ifthey knew any thing about them, they would long ago have taken care thatthe mattress upon which one patient dies should always be changed beforeanother comes in. " This quarrel impressed itself upon my memory; and thewish rose in my mind, that some day I might be head-nurse, to prevent suchwrongs, and to show kindness to the poor lunatics. 

At the end of the year, my cousin left the hospital At the same time, trouble and constant sickness fell upon our family. My father, who heldliberal opinions and was of an impetuous temperament manifested somerevolutionary tendencies, which drew upon him the displeasure of thegovernment and caused his dismissal, with a very small pension, from hisposition as military officer. This involved us in great pecuniarydifficulties; for our family was large, and my father's income too smallto supply the most necessary wants; while to obtain other occupation forthe time was out of the question In this emergency, my mother determinedto petition the city government for admission to the school of midwivesestablished in Berlin, in order in this manner to aid in the support ofthe family. Influential friends of my father secured her the election; andshe was admitted to the school in 1839, I being at that time ten years ofage. 

The education of midwives for Berlin requires a two years' course ofstudy, during six months of which they are obliged to reside in thehospital, to receive instructions from the professors together with themale students. My mother went there in the summer of 1840. I went to stayat the house of an aunt, who wished my company; and the rest of thechildren were put out to board together. 

In a few weeks, my eyes became affected with weakness, so that I couldneither read nor write; and I begged my mother to let me stay with her inthe hospital. She applied for permission to the director, and received afavorable answer. I was placed under the care of one of the physicians(Dr. Müller), who took a great fancy to me, and made me go with himwherever he went while engaged in the hospital. My eyes being bandaged, heled me by the hand, calling me his "little blind doctor. " In this way Iwas constantly with him, hearing all his questions and directions, whichimpressed themselves the more strongly on my mind from the fact that Icould not see, but had to gain all my knowledge through hearing alone. 

One afternoon, when I had taken the bandage off my eyes for the firsttime, Dr. Muller told me that there was a corpse of a young man to be seenin the dead-house, that had turned completely green in consequence ofpoison that he had eaten. I went there after my rounds with him: butfinding the room filled with relatives, who were busily engaged inadorning the body with flowers, I thought that I would not disturb them, but would wait until they had gone before I looked at it; and wentmeanwhile through the adjoining rooms. These were all freshly painted. Thedissecting-tables, with the necessary apparatus, stood in the centre;while the bodies, clad in white gowns, were ranged on boards along thewalls. I examined every thing; came back, and looked to my heart's contentat the poisoned young man, without noticing that not only the relativeshad left, but that the prosector had also gone away, after locking up thewhole building I then went a second time to the other rooms, and lookedagain at every thing there; and at last, when it became dark and I couldnot leave the house, sat down upon the floor, and went to sleep, afterknocking for half an hour at the door, in the hope that some passer mighthear. 

My mother, who knew that I had gone with Dr. Müller, did not troubleherself about me until nine o'clock, when she grew uneasy at my stay; and, thinking that he might have taken me to his rooms, went there in search ofme, but found that he was out, and that the doors were locked. She theninquired of the people in the house whether they knew any thing about me, and was told that they had last seen me going into the dead-house. Alarmedat this intelligence, my mother hastened to the prosector, who unwillinglywent with her to the park in which the dead-house stood, assuring her allthe way that I could not possibly be there; when, on opening the door, hesaw me sitting close by, on the floor, fast asleep. 

In a few days after this adventure, I recovered the use of my eyes. As itwas at this time the summer vacation, in which I had no school-tasks, Iasked Dr. Müller for some books to read. He inquired what kind of books Iwanted. I told him, "Books about history;" upon which he gave me two hugevolumes, --The "History of Midwifery" and the "History of Surgery. " Bothwere so interesting that I read them through during the six weeks ofvacation; which occupied me so closely that even my friend Dr. Müllercould not lay hold of me when he went his morning and evening rounds. Fromthis time I date my study of medicine; for, though I did not continue toread upon the subject, I was instructed in the no less important branch ofpsychology by a new teacher, whom I found on my return to school at theclose of the summer vacation. 

To explain better how my mind was prepared for such teaching, I must goback to my position in school. In both schools that I attended, I waspraised for my punctuality, industry, and quick perception. Beloved I wasin neither: on the contrary, I was made the target for all the impudentjokes of my fellow-pupils; ample material for which was furnished in thecarelessness with which my hair and dress were usually arranged; thesebeing left to the charge of a servant, who troubled herself very littleabout how I looked, provided that I was whole and clean. The truth was, Ioften presented a ridiculous appearance; and once I could not helplaughing heartily at myself, on seeing my own face by accident in aglass, with one braid of hair commencing over the right eye, and the otherover the left ear. I quietly hung a map over the glass to hide theludicrous picture, and continued my studies; and most likely appeared inthe same style the next day. My face, besides, was neither handsome, noreven prepossessing; a large nose overshadowing the undeveloped features:and I was ridiculed for my ugliness, both in school and at home, where anaunt of mine, who disliked me exceedingly, always said, in describingplain people, "Almost as ugly as Marie. "

Another cause arose to render my position at school still moreintolerable. In consequence of the loss of his position in the army, myfather could no longer afford to pay my school-bills; and was about, inconsequence, to remove me from school; when the principal offered toretain me without pay, although she disliked me, and did not hesitate toshow it, any more than to tell me, whenever I offended her, that she wouldnever keep so ugly and naughty a child _without being paid for it_, wereit not for the sake of so noble a father. 

These conditions and harsh judgments made me a philosopher. I heard myselfcalled obstinate and wilful, only because I believed myself in the right, and persisted in it. I felt that I was not maliciously disposed towardsany one, but wished well to all; and I offered my services not onlywillingly, but cheerfully, wherever they could be of the least use; andsaw them accepted, and even demanded, by those who could not dispense withthem, though they shunned and ridiculed me the same as before. I felt thatthey only sought me when they needed me: this made me shrink still morefrom their companionship; and, when my sister did not walk home fromschool with me, I invariably went alone. 

The idea that I might not wish to attach myself to playmates of this sortnever occurred to any one; but I was constantly reproached with having nofriends among my schoolfellows, and was told that no one could love sodisagreeable and repelling a child. This was a severe blow to myaffectionate nature; but I bore it calmly, consoling myself with thethought that they were wrong, --that they did not understand me, --and thatthe time would come, when they would learn that a great, warm heart wasconcealed beneath the so-called repulsive exterior. But, however soothingall this was for the time, a feeling of bitterness grew up within me. Ibegan to be provoked at my ugliness, which I believed to be excessive. Ispeculated why parents so kind and good as mine should be deprived oftheir means of support, merely because my father would not consent toendure wrong and imposition. I was indignant at being told, that it wasonly for my father's sake that I was retained in a school where I tried todo my best, and where I always won the highest prizes; and I could not seewhy, at home, I should be forced to do housework when I wanted to read, while my brother, who wished to work, was compelled to study. When Icomplained of this last grievance, I was told that I was a girl, and nevercould learn much, but was only fit to become a housekeeper. All thesethings threw me upon my own resources, and taught me to make the most ofevery opportunity, custom and habit to the contrary notwithstanding. 

It was at this juncture that I found, on my return to school, thepsychologic instructor of whom I have spoken, in a newly engaged teacherof history, geography, and arithmetic; all of which were my favoritestudies. With this man I formed a most peculiar friendship: he beingtwenty years older than myself, and in every respect a highly educatedman; I, a child of twelve, neglected in every thing except in mycommon-school education. He began by calling my attention to thecarelessness of my dress and the rudeness of my manners, and was the firstone who ever spoke kindly to me on the subject. I told him all mythoughts; that I did not mean to be disagreeable, but that every onethought that I could not be otherwise; that I was convinced that I wasgood enough at heart; and that I had at last resigned myself to myposition, as something that could not be helped. My new friend lectured meon the necessity of attracting others by an agreeable exterior andcourteous manners; and proved to me that I had unconsciously repelled themby my carelessness, even when trying the most to please. His words made adeep impression on me. I thanked him for every reproach, and strove to domy best to gain his approbation. Henceforth my hair was always carefullycombed, my dress nicely arranged, and my collar in its place; and, as Ialways won the first prizes in the school, two of the other teachers soongrew friendly towards me, and began to manifest their preference quitestrongly. In a few months I became a different being. The bitterness thathad been growing up within me gradually disappeared; and I began to haveconfidence in myself, and to try to win the companionship of the otherchildren. But a sudden change took place in my schoolmates, who grewenvious of the preference shown me by the teachers. Since they could nolonger ridicule me for the carelessness of my dress, they now began toreproach me for my vanity, and to call me a coquette, who only thought ofpleasing through appearances. This blow was altogether too hard for me tobear. I knew that they were wrong: for, with all the care I bestowed on mydress, it was not half so fine as theirs; as I had but two calico dresses, which I wore alternately, a week at a time, through the summer. I wasagain repelled from them; and at noon, when the rest of the scholars wenthome, I remained with my teacher-friend in the schoolroom, assisting himin correcting the exercises of the pupils. I took the opportunity to tellhim of the curious envy that had taken possession of the girls; upon whichhe began to explain to me human nature and its fallacies, drawinginferences therefrom for personal application. He found a ready listenerin me. My inclination to abstract thought, combined with the unpleasantexperience I had had in life, made me an attentive pupil, and fitted me tocomprehend his reasoning in the broadest sense. For fifteen months, I thusspent the noon-hour with him in the schoolroom; receiving lessons in andreasoning upon concrete and abstract matters, that have since proved offar more psychologic value to me than ten years of reading on the samesubjects could do. A strong attachment grew up between us: he became anecessity to me, and I revered him like an oracle. But his health failed;and he left the school at the end of these fifteen months, in aconsumption. Shortly after, he sent to the school for me one morning toask me to visit him on his deathbed. I was not permitted to leave theclass until noon; when, just as I was preparing to go, a messenger came toinform the principal that he had died at eleven. This blow fell so heavilyupon me, that I wished to leave the school at once. I was forced to staythree weeks longer, until the end of the quarter; when I left theschoolroom on the 1st of April, 1843, at the age of thirteen years andseven months, and never entered it again. 

On the same day that I quitted my school, an aunt, with whom I was afavorite, was attacked with a violent hemorrhage from the lungs, andwished me to come to stay with her. This suited my taste. I went; and, fora fortnight, was her sole nurse. 

Upon my return home, my father told me, that, having quitted school, Imust now become a thorough housekeeper, of whom he might be proud; as thiswas the only thing for which girls were intended by nature. I cheerfullyentered upon my new apprenticeship, and learned how to sweep, to scrub, towash, and to cook. This work answered very well as long as the noveltylasted; but, as soon as this wore off, it became highly burdensome. Many aforenoon, when I was alone, instead of sweeping and dusting, I passed thehours in reading books from my father's library, until it grew so late, that I was afraid that my mother, who had commenced practice, would comehome, and scold me for not attending to my work; when I would hurry to getthrough, doing every thing so badly, that I had to hear daily that I wasgood for nothing, and a nuisance in the world; and that it was not at allsurprising that I was not liked in school, for nobody could ever like orbe satisfied with me. 

Meanwhile, my mother's practice gradually increased; and her generous andkindly nature won the confidence of hundreds, who, wretchedly poor, foundin her, not only a humane woman, but a most skilful practitioner. The poorare good judges of professional qualifications. Without the aid thatmoney can buy, without the comforts that the wealthy hardly heed, andwithout friends whose advice is prompted by intelligence, they must dependentirely upon the skill and humanity of those to whom they apply. Theirlife and happiness are placed in the hands of the physician, and theyjealously regard the one to whom they intrust them. None but a goodpractitioner can gain fame and praise in this class, which is thought soeasily satisfied. It is often said, "Oh! those people are poor, and willbe glad of any assistance. " Far from it. There is no class so entirelydependent for their subsistence upon their strength and health; theseconstitute their sole capital, their stock in trade: and, when sick, theyanxiously seek out the best physicians; for, if unskilfully attended, theymay lose their all, their fortune, and their happiness. 

My mother went everywhere, both night and day; and it soon came to pass, that when she was sent for, and was not at home, I was deputed to go insearch of her. In this way I gradually became a regular appendage to mymother; going with her in the winter nights from place to place, andvisiting those whom she could not visit during the day. I remember that inJanuary, 1845, my mother attended thirty-five women in childbed, --the listof names is still in my possession, --and visited from sixteen totwenty-five daily, with my assistance. I do not think, that, during themonth, we were in bed for one whole night. Two-thirds of these patientswere unable to pay a cent. During these years, I learned all of life thatit was possible for a human being to learn. I saw nobleness in dens, andmeanness in palaces; virtue among prostitutes, and vice among so-calledrespectable women. I learned to judge human nature correctly; to seegoodness where the world found nothing but faults, and also to see faultswhere the world could see nothing but virtue. The experience thus gainedcost me the bloom of youth; yet I would not exchange it for a life ofeverlasting juvenescence. To keep up appearances is the aim of every one'slife; but to fathom these appearances, and judge correctly of what isbeneath them, ought to be the aim of those who seek to draw trueconclusions from life, or to benefit others by real sympathy. 

One fact I learned, both at this time and afterwards; namely, that menalways sympathize with fallen and wretched women, while women themselvesare the first to raise and cast the stone at them. Why is this? Have notwomen as much feeling as men? Why, women are said to be made up entirelyof feeling. How does it happen, then, that women condemn where men pity?Do they do this in the consciousness of their own superior virtue? Ah, no!for many of the condemning are no better than the condemned. The reasonis, that men know the world; that is, they know the obstacles in the pathof life, and that they draw lines to exclude women from earning an honestlivelihood, while they throw opportunities in their way to earn theirbread by shame. All men are aware of this: therefore the good as well asthe bad give pity to those that claim it. It is my honest and earnestconviction, that the reason that men are unwilling for women to enter uponpublic or business life is, not so much the fear of competition, or thedread lest women should lose their gentleness, and thus deprive society ofthis peculiar charm, as the fact that they are ashamed of the foulness oflife which exists outside of the house and home. The good man knows thatit is difficult to purify it: the bad man does not wish to be disturbed inhis prey upon society. If I could but give to all women the tenth part ofmy experience, they would see that this is true; and would see, besides, that only faith in ourselves and in each other is needed to work areformation. Let woman enter fully into business, with its seriousresponsibilities and duties; let it be made as honorable and as profitableto her as to men; let her have an equal opportunity for earning competenceand comfort, --and we shall need no other purification of society. Men areno more depraved than women; or, rather, the total depravity of mankind isa lie. 

From the time of my leaving school until I was fifteen years old, my lifewas passed, as I have described, in doing housework, attending the sickwith my mother, and reading a few books of a scientific and literarycharacter. At the end of this time, a letter came from an aunt of mymother's, who was ill, and whose adopted daughter (who was my mother'ssister) was also an invalid, requesting me to visit and nurse them. I wentthere in the fall. This was probably the most decisive event of my life. My great-aunt had a cancer that was to be taken out. The other wassuffering from a nervous affection, which rendered her a confirmedinvalid. She was a most peculiar woman, and was a clairvoyant andsomnambulist of the most decided kind. Though not ill-natured, she wasfull of caprices that would have exhausted the patience of the mostenduring of mortals. 

This aunt of mine had been sick in bed for seven years with a nervousderangement, which baffled the most skilful physicians who had visitedher. Her senses were so acute, that one morning she fell into convulsionsfrom the effect of distant music which she heard. None of us couldperceive it, and we fully believed that her imagination had produced thisresult. But she insisted upon it; telling us that the music was like thatof the Bohemian miners, who played nothing but polkas. I was determined toascertain the truth; and really found, that, in a public garden one and ahalf miles from her house, such a troop had played all the afternoon. Nopublic music was permitted in the city, because the magistrate hadforbidden it on her account. 

She never was a Spiritualist, though she frequently went into what is nowcalled a trance. She spoke, wrote, sang, and had presentiments of thefinest kind, in this condition, --far better than I have ever seen here inAmerica in the case of the most celebrated mediums. 

She even prescribed for herself with success, yet was not a Spiritualist. She was a somnambulist; and, though weak enough when awake, threatenedseveral times to pull the house down, by her violence in this condition. She had strength like a lion, and no man could manage her. I saw the samething in the hospital later. This aunt is now healthy; not cured by herown prescriptions or the magnetic or infinitesimal doses of Dr. ArthurLutze, but by a strong emotion which took possession of her at the time ofmy great-aunt's death. She is not sorry that she has lost all thesestrange powers, but heartily glad of it. When she afterwards visited us inBerlin, she could speak calmly and quietly of the perversion to which thenervous system may become subject, if managed wrongly; and could not tellhow glad she was to be rid of all the emotions and notions she had beencompelled to dream out. Over-care and over-anxiety had brought this about;and the same causes could again bring on a condition which the ancientsdeemed holy, and which the psychologist treats as one bordering oninsanity. 

The old aunt was extremely suspicious and avaricious. Eight weeks after myarrival, she submitted to an operation. The operating surgeon found me sogood an assistant, that he intrusted me often with the succeeding dressingof the wound. For six weeks, I was the sole nurse of the two; going fromone room to the other both night and day, and attending to the householdmatters beside, with no other assistant than a woman who came everymorning for an hour or two to do the rough work; while an uncle and aboy-cousin were continually troubling me with their torn buttons, &c. 

I learned in this time to be cheerful and light-hearted in allcircumstances; going often into the anteroom to have a healthy, heartylaugh. My surroundings were certainly any thing but inspiring. I had thesole responsibility of the two sick women; the one annoying me with hercaprices, the other with her avarice. In one room, I heard fancifulforebodings; in the other, reproaches for having used a teaspoonful toomuch sugar. I always had to carry the key of the storeroom to the oldaunt, in order that she might be sure that I could not go in and eat breadwhen I chose. At the end of six weeks, she died; and I put on mourning forthe only time in my life, certainly not through grief. 

Shortly after the death of my aunt, the attending physician introduced meto a disciple of Hahnemann by the name of Arthur Lutze; who was, I think, a doctor of philosophy, --certainly not of medicine. Besides being aninfinitesimal homeopathist this man was a devotee to mesmerism. He becamevery friendly towards me, and supplied me with books; telling me that Iwould not only make a good homeopathic physician, but also an excellentmedium for mesmerism, magnetism, &c. At all events, I was glad to get thebooks, which I read industriously; while he constantly supplied me withnew ones, so that I had quite a library when he left the place, which hedid before my return. He, too, lived in Berlin, and inquired my residence;promising to visit me there, and to teach me the art he practised. 

I remained with my aunt until late in the spring; when my health failed, and I returned home. I was very ill for a time with brain-fever; but atlast recovered, and set to work industriously to search for information inrespect to the human body. Dr. Lutze kept his word: he visited me at myhome, gave me more books, and directed my course of reading. But myfather, who had become reconciled to my inclination to assist my mother, was opposed to homoeopathy, and especially opposed to Dr. Arthur Lutze. Heeven threatened to turn him out of the house, if I permitted him to visitme again; and burned all my books, except one that I snatched from theflames. 

From this time, I was resolved to learn all that I could about the humansystem. I read all the books on the subject that I could get, and triedbesides to educate myself in other branches. My father was satisfied withthis disposition, and was glad to hear me propose to have a French teacherin the house, both for my sake and for that of the other children. Istudied in good earnest by myself at the same time, going through theusual discipline of German girls. I learned plain sewing, dress-making andthe management of the household; but was allowed to use my leisure time asI pleased. When my sisters went skating, I remained at home to study; whenthey went to balls and theatres, I was thought the proper person to stayto watch the house. Having become so much older, I was now of greatassistance to my mother in her business. No one complained any longer ofmy ugliness or my rudeness. I was always busy; and, when at liberty, always glad to do what I could for others; and, though these years werefull of hardships, I consider them among the happiest of my life. I was asfree as it was possible for any German girl to be. 

My household duties, however, continued distasteful to me, much to theannoyance of my father, who still contended that this was the only sphereof woman. From being so much with my mother, I had lost all taste fordomestic life: any thing out of doors was preferable to the monotonousroutine of the household. I at length determined to follow my inclinationsby studying, in order to fit myself to become a practitioner of midwifery, as is usual in Berlin. My father was satisfied, and pleased with thisidea, which opened the way to an independent respectable livelihood; forhe never really wished to have us seek this in marriage. My mother did notlike my resolution at all. She practised, not because she liked theprofession, but because in this way she obtained the means of beingindependent and of aiding in the education of the children. I persisted, however, in my resolution; and immediately took measures to carry it intoeffect by going directly to Dr. Joseph Hermann Schmidt, the Professor ofMidwifery in the University and Schools for Midwives, and Director of theRoyal Hospital Charité; while my father, who for several years held theposition of a civil officer, made the application to the city magistratesfor me to be admitted as a pupil to the School for Midwives in which mymother had been educated. In order to show the importance of this step, itis necessary to explain more fully the history and organization of theschool. 

About 1735, Justina Ditrichin (the wife of Siegemund, a distinguishedcivil officer of Prussia) was afflicted with an internal disease whichbaffled the skill of the midwives, who had pronounced her pregnant, andnone of whom could define her disorder. After many months of suffering, she was visited by the wife of a poor soldier, who told her what ailedher; in consequence of which, she was cured by her physicians. Thiscircumstance awakened in the mind of the lady an intense desire to studymidwifery; which she did, and afterwards practised it with such success, that, in consequence of her extensive practice, she was obliged to confineherself solely to irregular cases. She performed all kinds of operationswith masterly skill, and wrote the first book on the subject everpublished in Germany by a woman. She was sent for from all parts ofGermany, and was appointed body-physician of the Queen, and the ladies ofthe court, of Prussia and Mark Brandenburg. Through her influence, schoolswere established, in which women were instructed in the science and theart of obstetrics. She also taught many herself; and a very successful andrespectable practice soon grew up among women. After her death, however, this was discountenanced by the physicians, who brought it into suchdisrepute by their ridicule, that the educated class of women withdrewfrom the profession, leaving it in the hands of ignorant pretenders, whocontinued to practise it until 1818; when public attention was called tothe subject, and strict laws were enacted, by which women were required tocall in a male practitioner in every irregular case of confinement, underpenalty of from one to twenty years of imprisonment, and the forfeiture ofthe right to practise. These laws still continue in force; and aremarkable case is recorded by Dr. Schmidt of a woman, who, feeling herown competency to manage a case committed to her care, _did not_ send fora male physician as the law required. Although it was fully proved thatshe had done every thing that could have been done in the case, herpenalty was imprisonment for twenty years. Two other cases are quoted byDr. Schmidt, in which male practitioners were summoned before a legaltribunal, and it was proved that they _had not_ done that which wasnecessary; yet their penalty was no heavier than that inflicted on thewoman, who had done exactly what she ought. 

At this time (1818), it was also made illegal for any woman to practisewho had not been educated. This brought the profession again into reputeamong women of the higher classes. A school for midwives, supported bythe government, was established in Berlin, in which women have sincecontinued to be educated for practice in this city and in other parts ofPrussia. Two midwives are elected each year, by a committee, from theapplicants, to be educated for practice in Berlin; and, as they have tostudy two years, there are always four of these students in the school, two graduating every year. The remainder of the students are from theprovincial districts. To be admitted to this school is considered a strokeof good fortune; as there are generally more than a hundred applicants, many of whom have to wait eight or ten years before they are elected. There is, besides, a great deal of favoritism; those women being generallychosen who are the widows or wives of civil officers or physicians; towhom this chance of earning a livelihood is given, in order that they maynot become a burden on the government. Though educated apart from the malestudents while studying the theory of midwifery, they attend theaccouchement-ward together, and receive clinical or practical instructionin the same class, from the same professor. 

The male students of medicine are admitted to the university at the age ofeighteen; having first been required to go through a prescribed course ofcollegiate study, and to pass the requisite examination. Here they attendthe lectures of various professors, often of four or five upon the samesubject, in order to learn how it is treated from different points ofview. Then, after having thus studied for a certain length of time, theypresent themselves for an examination by the professors of the university, which confers upon them the title of "M. D. , " without the right topractise. They are then obliged to prepare for what is called the State'sexamination, before a Board of the most distinguished men in theprofession appointed to this place by the government: these alsoconstitute the medical court. Of this number, Dr. Schmidt was one. 

Dr. Schmidt approved my resolution, and expressed himself warmly in favorof it. He also recommended to me a course of reading, to be commenced atonce, as a kind of preliminary education; and, although he had noinfluence with the committee of the city government who examined andelected the pupils, he promised to call upon some of them, and urge myelection. But, despite his recommendation and my father's position ascivil officer, I received a refusal, on the grounds that I was much tooyoung (being only eighteen), and that I was unmarried. The latter fault Idid not try to remove; the former I corrected daily; and, when I wasnineteen, I repeated my application, and received the same reply. Duringthis time, Dr. Schmidt became more and more interested in me personally. He promised that he would do all in his power to have me chosen the nextyear; while, during this time, he urged me to read and study as much aspossible, in order to become fully acquainted with the subject. As usual, I continued to assist my mother in visiting her patients, and thus had afine opportunity for explaining to myself many things which the mere studyof books left in darkness. In fact, these years of preliminary practicalstudy were more valuable to me than all the lectures that I ever listenedto afterwards. Full of zeal and enthusiasm, and stimulated by a friendwhose position and personal acquirements inspired me with reverence anddevotion, I thought of nothing else than how to prepare myself in such away that I should not disappoint him nor those to whom he had commendedme. Dr. Schmidt was consumptive, and almost an invalid; often having tolecture in a reclining position. The author of many valuable medicalworks, and director of the largest hospital in Prussia (the Charité ofBerlin), he found a most valuable assistant in his wife, --one of thenoblest women that ever lived. She was always with him, except in thelecture-room; and almost all of his works are said to have been written byher from his dictation. This had inspired him with the highest possiblerespect for women. He had the utmost faith in their powers when rightlydeveloped, and always declared their intellectual capacity to be the samewith that of men. This belief inspired him with the desire to give me aneducation superior to that of the common midwives; and, at the same time, to reform the school of midwives by giving to it a professor of its ownsex. To this position he had in his own mind already elected me; but, before I could take it, I had to procure a legitimate election from thecity to the school as pupil; while, during my attendance he had toconvince the government of the necessity of such a reform, as well as tobring over the medical profession: which was not so easily done; for manymen were waiting already for Dr. Schmidt's death in order to obtain thisvery post, which was considered valuable. 

When I was twenty, I received my third refusal. Dr. Schmidt, whose healthwas failing rapidly, had exerted himself greatly to secure my admission;and the medical part of the committee had promised him that they wouldgive me their vote: but some theological influence was set to work toelect one of the deaconesses in my stead, that she might be educated forthe post of superintendent of the lying-in ward of the hospital, which wasunder Dr. Schmidt's care. She also was rejected, in order not to offendDr. Schmidt; but for this he would not thank them. No sooner had I carriedhim the letter of refusal than he ordered his carriage, and, proceeding tothe royal palace, obtained an audience of the king; to whom he related therefusal of the committee to elect me, on the ground that I was too youngand unmarried, and entreated of him a cabinet order which should compelthe city to admit me to the school; adding, that he saw no reason whyGermany, as well as France, should not have and be proud of a La Chapelle. The king, who held Dr. Schmidt in high esteem, gave him at once thedesired order; and I became legally the student of my friend: though hispraise procured me intense vexation; for my name was dropped entirely, andI was only spoken of as La Chapelle the Second; which would by no meanshave been unpleasant had I earned the title; but to receive it sneeringlyin advance, before having been allowed to make my appearance publicly, wasindeed unbearable. 

On the third day after his visit to the king, Dr. Schmidt received me intothe class, and introduced me to it as his future assistant teacher. Thisannouncement was as surprising to me as to the class; but I took itquietly, thinking that, if Dr. Schmidt did not consider me fit for theplace, he would not risk being attacked for it by the profession _enmasse_, by whom he was watched closely. 

On the same day, a little incident occurred which I must mention. In theevening, instead of going alone to the class for practical instruction, Iaccompanied Dr. Schmidt at his request. We entered the hall where hisassistant, the chief physician, had already commenced his instructions. Dr. Schmidt introduced me to him as his private pupil, to whom he wishedhim to give particular attention; ending by giving my name. The physicianhurriedly came up to me, and grasped my hand, exclaiming, "Why, this is mylittle blind doctor!" I looked at him, and recognized the very Dr. Müllerwith whom I used to make the rounds of the hospital when twelve years old, and who had since risen to the position of chief physician. Thisrencontre, and the interest that he manifested afterwards greatlyrelieved Dr. Schmidt, who had feared that he would oppose me, instead ofgiving me any special aid. During this winter's study, I spent the most ofthe time in the hospital, being almost constantly at the side of Dr. Schmidt. I certainly made the most of every opportunity; and I scarcelybelieve it possible for any student to learn more in so short a time thanI did during this winter. I was continually busy; acting even as nurse, whenever I could learn any thing by it. During the following summer, I wasobliged to reside wholly in the hospital; this being a part of theprescribed education. Here I became acquainted with all the differentwards, and had a fine opportunity to watch the cases by myself. In themean time, Dr. Schmidt's illness increased so rapidly, that he feared todie before his plans in respect to me had been carried out; especially asthe state of his health had compelled him to give up his position as ChiefDirector of the Hospital Charité. His design was to make me chiefaccoucheuse in the hospital, and to surrender into my hands his positionas professor in the School for Midwives, so that I might have the entirecharge of the midwives education. The opposition to this plan wastwofold: firstly, the theological influence that sought to place thedeaconess (Sister Catherine) in the position of house-midwife; and, secondly, the younger part of the profession, many of whom were anxiousfor the post of professor in the School for Midwives, which never wouldhave been suffered to fall into the hands of Sister Catherine. Dr. Schmidt, however, was determined to yield to neither. Personal pridedemanded that he should succeed in his plan; and several of the older andmore influential members of the profession took his part, among whom wereJohannes Müller, Busch, Müller, Kilian, &c. During the second winter, hislecturing in the class was only nominal; often nothing more than namingthe heads of the subjects, while I had to give the real instruction. Hisidea was to make me feel the full responsibility of such a position, and, at the same time, to give me a chance to do the work that he had declaredme pre-eminently capable of doing. This was an intrigue; but he could nothave it otherwise. He did not intend that I should perform his duty forhis benefit, but for my own. He wished to show to the government the factthat I had done the work of a man like himself, and done it well; andthat, if he had not told them of his withdrawal, no one would haverecognized his absence from the result. 

At the close of this term, I was obliged to pass my examination at thesame time with the fifty-six students who composed the class. Dr. Schmidtinvited some of the most prominent medical men to be present, besidesthose appointed as the examining committee. He informed me of this on theday before the examination, saying, "I want to convince them that you cando better than half of the young men at _their_ examination. "

The excitement of this day I can hardly describe. I had not only to appearbefore a body of strangers, of whose manner of questioning I had no idea, but also before half a dozen authorities in the profession, assembledespecially for criticism. Picture to yourself my position: standing beforethe table at which were seated the three physicians composing theexamining committee, questioning me all the while in the most perplexingmanner, with four more of the highest standing on each side, --makingeleven in all; Dr. Schmidt a little way off, anxious that I should provetrue all that he had said in praise of me; and the rest of the class inthe background, filling up the large hall. It was terrible. The triflinghonor of being considered capable was rather dearly purchased. I wentthrough the whole hour bravely, without missing a single question; untilfinally the clock struck twelve, when every thing suddenly grew blackbefore my eyes, and the last question sounded like a humming noise in myear. I answered it--how I know not, --and was permitted to sit down andrest for fifteen minutes before I was called to the practical examinationon the manikin. I gave satisfaction to all, and received the diploma ofthe first degree. This by no means ended the excitement. The students ofthe year were next examined. This examination continued for a week; afterwhich the diplomas were announced, when it was found that never before hadthere been so many of the first degree, and so few of the third. Dr. Schmidt then made it known that this was the result of my exertions, and Iwas pronounced _a very capable woman_. 

This acknowledgment having been made by the medical men present at theexamination, Dr. Schmidt thought it would be an easy matter to get meinstalled into the position for which I had proved myself capable. Butsuch could not be the case in a government ruled by hypocrisy andintrigue. To acknowledge the capability of a woman did not by any meanssay that she was at liberty to hold a position in which she could exercisethis capability. German men are educated to be slaves to the government:positive freedom is comprehended only by a few. They generally strugglefor a kind of negative freedom; namely, for themselves: for each man, however much he may be inclined to show his subserviency to those superiorin rank, thinks himself the lord of creation; and, of course, regardswoman only as his appendage. How can this lord of creation, being a slavehimself, look upon the _free development_ and _demand of recognition_ ofhis appendage otherwise than as a nonsense, or usurpation of his exclusiverights? And among these lords of creation I heartily dislike that classwhich not only yield to the influence brought upon them by government, butwho also possess an infinite amount of narrowness and vanity, united to asinfinite servility to money and position. There is not ink and paperenough in all the world to write down the contempt I feel for men in whosepower it is to be free in thought and noble in action, and who act to thecontrary to feed their ambition or their purses. I have learned, perhaps, too much of their spirit for my own good. 

You can hardly believe what I experienced, in respect to intrigue, withinthe few months following my examination. All the members of the medicalprofession were unwilling that a woman should take her place on a levelwith them. All the diplomatists became fearful that Dr. Schmidt intendedto advocate the question of "woman's rights;" one of them exclaiming oneevening, in the heat of discussion, "For Heaven's sake! the Berlin womenare already wiser than all the men of Prussia: what will become of us ifwe allow them to manifest it?" I was almost forgotten in the five monthsduring which the question was debated: it became more than a matter ofpersonal intrigue. The real question at stake was, "How shall women beeducated, and what is their true sphere?" and this was discussed with moreenergy and spirit than ever has been done here in America. 

Scores of letters were written by Dr. Schmidt to convince the governmentthat a woman could really be competent to hold the position in question, and that I had been pronounced so by the whole Faculty. The next objectionraised was that my father was known as holding revolutionary principles;and to conquer this, cost a long discussion, with many interviews of theofficials with my father and Dr. Schmidt. The next thing urged was that Iwas much _too young_; that it would be necessary, in the course of myduties, to instruct the young men also; and that there was danger in ourthus being thrown together. In fact, this reason, read to me by Dr. Schmidt from one of the letters written at this time (all of which arestill carefully preserved), runs thus: "To give this position to Miss M. E. Zakrzewska is dangerous. She is a prepossessing young lady; and, fromcoming in contact with so many gentlemen, must necessarily fall in lovewith some one of them, and thus end her career. " To this I have only toreply, that I am sorry that I could not have found _one_ among them thatcould have made me follow the suggestion. This objection however, seemedfor a while the most difficult to be met: for it was well known, that, when a student myself, I had stood on the most friendly terms with myfellow-students, and that they had often taken my part in littledisturbances that naturally came up in an establishment where no one waspermitted to enter or to leave without giving a reason, and where even myprivate patients were sent away at the door because I did not know oftheir coming, and could not announce to the doorkeeper the name andresidence of those who might possibly call. 

That this difficulty was finally conquered, I have to thank the studentsthemselves. My relation with these young men was of the pleasantest kind. They never seemed to think that I was not of their sex, but always treatedme like one of themselves. I knew of their studies and their amusements;yes, even, of the mischievous pranks that they were planning both forcollege and for social life. They often made me their confidante in theirprivate affairs, and were more anxious for my approval or forgiveness thanfor that of their relatives. I learned, during this time, how great is thefriendly influence of a woman even upon fast-living and licentious youngmen; and this has done more to convince me of the necessity that the twosexes should live together from infancy, than all the theories andarguments that are brought to convince the mass of this fact. As soon asit became known among the students that my youth was the new objection, they treated it in such a manner that the whole thing was transformed intoa ridiculous bugbear, growing out of the imagination of the _virtuous_opposers. 

Nothing now seemed left in the way of my attaining to the position; whensuddenly it dawned upon the mind of some that I was irreligious; thatneither my father nor my mother attended church; and that, under suchcircumstances, I could not, of course, be a church-goer. Fortunately, Ihad complied with the requirements of the law, and could therefore bringmy certificate of confirmation from one of the Protestant churches. By theadvice of Dr. Schmidt, I commenced to attend church regularly, andcontinued until a little incident happened which I must relate here. OneSunday, just after the sermon was over, I remembered that I had forgottento give instructions to the nurse in respect to a patient, and left thechurch without waiting for the end of the service. The next morning, I wassummoned to answer to the charge of leaving the church at an impropertime. The inquisitor (who was one of those who had accused me ofirreligion), being vexed that I contradicted him by going to churchregularly, was anxious to make me confess that I did not care for theservice: but I saw through his policy as well as his hypocrisy, and simplytold him the truth; namely, that I had forgotten important business, andtherefore thought it excusable to leave as soon as the sermon was over. Whether he sought to lure me on to further avowals, I know not: but, whatever was his motive, he asked me, in reply, whether I believed thathe cared for the humdrum custom of church-going and whether I thought himimbecile enough to consider this as any thing more than the means by whichto keep the masses in check; adding, that it was the duty of theintelligent to make the affair respectable by setting the example of goingthemselves; and that he only wished me to act on this principle, when allaccusations of irreligion would fall to the ground. I had always knownthat this man was not my friend: but, when I heard this, I feltdisenchanted with the whole world; for I had never thought him more than ahypocrite, whereas I found him the meanest of Jesuits, both in theory andpractice. I was thoroughly indignant; the more so, since I felt guiltymyself in going to church simply to please Dr. Schmidt. I do not rememberwhat answer I gave; but I know that my manners and words made it evidentthat I considered him a villain. He never forgave me this, as all hisfuture acts proved to me: for, in his position of chief director of thehospital, he had it in his power, more than any one else, to annoy me; andthat he did so, you will presently see. 

The constant opposition and attendant excitement together with theannoyances which my father, as civil officer, had to endure, made himresolve to present a declaration to the government, that I should never, with his consent, enter the position. He had become so tired of my effortsto become a public character in my profession, that he suddenly conceivedthe wish to have me married Now, take for a moment into consideration thefacts that I was but twenty-two years of age, full of sanguine enthusiasmfor my vocation, and strong in the friendship of Dr. Schmidt. He hadinspired me with the idea of a career different from the common routine ofdomestic life. My mother, overcoming her repugnance to my entering myprofession, had been my best friend, encouraging me steadily; while myfather, yielding to the troubles that it involved, had become disgustedwith it, and wished me to abandon my career. He was stern, and would nottake back his word. I could do nothing without his consent; while Dr. Schmidt had finally overcome all difficulties, and had the prospect ofvictory if my father would but yield. A few weeks of this life weresufficient to drive one mad, and I am sure that I was near becoming so. Iwas resolved to run away from home or to kill myself while my father wasequally resolved to marry me to a man of whom I did not know the sight. Matters finally came to a crisis through the illness of Dr. Schmidt, whose health failed so rapidly, that it was thought dangerous to let himbe longer excited by the fear of not realizing his favorite scheme. Someof his medical advisers influenced the government to appeal to my fatherto withdraw his declaration; which, satisfied with the honor thus donehim, he did on the 1st of May, 1852. On the 15th of May, I received mylegal instalment to the position for which Dr. Schmidt had designed me. The joy that I felt was great beyond expression. A youthful enthusiast oftwenty-two, I stood at the height of my wishes and expectations. I hadobtained what others only could obtain after the protracted labor of halfa lifetime; and already I saw myself in imagination occupying the place ofDr. Schmidt's aspirations, --that of a German La Chapelle. No one, that hasnot passed at the same age through the same excitement, can evercomprehend the fulness of my rejoicing, which was not wholly selfish; forI knew that nothing in the world would please Dr. Schmidt so much as thisvictory. The wildest joy of an accepted suitor is a farce compared to myfeelings on the morning of that 15th of May. I was reconciled to mybitterest opponents: I could even have thanked them for their opposition, since it had made the success so much the sweeter. Not the slightestfeeling of triumph was in my heart; all was happiness and rejoicing: andit was in this condition of mind and heart that I put on my bonnet andshawl to carry the good news to Dr. Schmidt. Without waiting to beannounced, I hastened to his parlor, where I found him sitting with hiswife upon the sofa. I did not walk, but flew, towards them, and threw theletter upon the table, exclaiming "There is the victory!" Like aconflagration my joy spread to Dr. Schmidt as well as to his wife, whothought that she saw in these tidings a cup of new life for her husband. Ionly staid long enough to accept their congratulations. Dr. Schmidt toldme to be sure to come the next morning to enter legally upon my duties athis side. Meanwhile, he gave me a vacation for the afternoon to see myfriends and carry them the news. He saw that I needed the open air, andfelt that he, too, must have it to counteract his joy. I went to tell myfather and several friends, and spent the day in blissful ignorance of thedreadful event that was transpiring. 

The next morning, at seven o'clock, I left home to go to my residence inthe hospital. I had not slept during the night: the youthful fire ofenthusiasm burnt too violently to allow me any rest. The old doorkeeperopened the door for me, and gazed at me with an air of surprise. "What isthe matter?" I asked. "I am astonished to see you so cheerful, " said he. "Why?" I asked with astonishment. "Don't you know that Dr. Schmidt isdead?" was the answer. Dr. Schmidt dead! I trembled; I staggered; I fellupon a chair. The beautiful entrance-hall, serving also as a greenhouseduring the winter, filled in every place with flowers and tropical fruit, faded from my eyes; and in its stead I saw nothing but laughing faces, distorted with scorn and mockery. A flood of tears cooled the heat of mybrain, and a calmness like that of death soon took possession of me. I hadfallen from the topmost height of joy and happiness to the profoundestdepth of disappointment and despair. If there were nothing else to provethe strength of my mind, the endurance of this sudden change would besufficient. 

I went at once to Dr. Schmidt's residence in the Hospital Park, where Imet him again, not as I had expected an hour before, ready to go with meto the hospital-department which I was henceforth to superintend, but acorpse. After I had left the day before, he had expressed a wish to gointo the open air, he being not much less excited than myself. Mrs. Schmidt ordered the carriage, and they drove to the large park. He talkedconstantly and excitedly about the satisfaction that he felt in thissuccess, until they arrived; when he wished to get out of the carriage, and walk with his wife. Mrs. Schmidt consented; but they had scarcelytaken a few steps when he sank to the ground, and a gush of blood from hismouth terminated his existence. 

I left Dr. Schmidt's house, and entered alone into the wards, where I feltthat I was without friendly encouragement and support. During the threedays that intervened before the burial of Dr. Schmidt, I was hardlyconscious of any thing, but moved about mechanically like an automaton. The next few days were days of confusion; for the death of Dr. Schmidt hadleft so many places vacant that some fifty persons were struggling toobtain some one of his offices. The eagerness, servility, and meannesswhich these educated men displayed in striving to conquer their rivals wasmore than disgusting. The serpents that lie in wait for their prey areendurable; for we know that it is their nature to be cunning andrelentless: but to see men of intellect and education sly and snaky, ferocious, yet servile to the utmost, makes one almost believe in totaldepravity. The most of these men got what they deserved; namely, nothing:the places were filled temporarily with others, and every thing went onapparently as before. My position soon became very disagreeable. I hadreceived my instalment, not because I was wanted by the directors of thehospital, but because they had been commanded by the government to acceptme in the hope of thus prolonging the life of Dr. Schmidt. Young andinexperienced in petty intrigue, I had now to work without friendlyencouragement and appreciation, with no one about me in whom I had aspecial interest; while every one was regretting that the instalment hadbeen given me before Dr. Schmidt's death, which might have happened justas well from some other excitement, in an establishment where threethousand people were constantly at war about each other's affairs. Isurveyed the whole arena, and saw very well, that, unless I practisedmeanness and dishonesty as well as the rest, I could not remain there forany length of time; for scores were ready to calumniate me whenever therewas the least thing to be gained by it. 

I was about to commence a new period of life. I had a solid structure asa foundation; but the superstructure had been built up in so short a time, that a change of wind would suffice to cast it down. I resolved, therefore, to tear it down myself, and to begin to build another upon thecarefully laid basis; and only waited for an opportunity to manifest myintention. This opportunity soon presented itself. Sister Catherine, thedeaconess of whom I have spoken, who had been allowed to attend the Schoolof Midwives after my election, through the influence of her theologicalfriends upon Dr. Schmidt (the city magistrates having refused her becauseI was already the third accepted pupil), had as yet no position: and thesefriends now sought to make her the second _accoucheuse_; I having thefirst position, with the additional title of Chief. This she would notaccept. She, the experienced deaconess, who had been a FlorenceNightingale in the typhus epidemic of Silesia, was unwilling to be underthe supervision of a woman who had nothing to show but a thorougheducation, and who was, besides, eight years younger than herself. Herrefusal made my enemies still more hostile. Why they were so anxious forher services, I can only explain by supposing that the directors of thehospital wished to annoy Pastor Fliedner, the originator of theKaiserswerth Sisterhood; for, in placing Sister Catherine in thisposition, they robbed him of one of the very best nurses that he ever hadin his institution. 

My desire to reconcile the government of the hospital, in order that Imight have peace in my position to pursue my development and education soas to realize and manifest to the people the truth of what Dr. Schmidt hadaffirmed of me, induced me to go to one of the directors, and propose thatSister Catherine should be installed on equal terms with me; offering todrop the title of Chief, and to consent that the department should bedivided into two. My proposition was accepted nominally, and SisterCatherine was installed, but with a third less salary than I received;while I had to give the daily reports, &c. , and to take the chiefresponsibility of the whole. Catherine was quite friendly to me; and I washappy in the thought that there was now one at least who would stand byme, should any difficulties occur. How much I was mistaken in the humanheart! This pious, sedate woman, towards whom my heart yearned withfriendship, was my greatest enemy; though I did not know it until after myarrival in America. 

A few weeks afterwards, the city petitioned to have a number of womeninstructed in the practice of midwifery. These women were all experiencednurses, who had taken the liberty to practise this art to a greater orless extent from what they had learned of it while nursing; and, to put anend to this unlawful practice, they had been summoned before an examiningcommittee, and the youngest and best educated chosen to be instructed asthe law required. Dr. Müller, the pathologist, was appointed tosuperintend the theoretical, and Dr. Ebert the practical, instruction. Dr. Müller, who never had given this kind of instruction before, and who was aspecial friend of mine, immediately surrendered the whole into my hands;while Dr. Ebert, whose time was almost wholly absorbed in the departmentof the diseases of children, appointed me as his assistant. Both gentlemengave me certificates of this when I determined to emigrate to America. 

The marked preference for my wards that had always been shown by the malestudents was shared by these women when they came. Sister Catherine wasneither ambitious nor envious; yet she felt that she was the second inplace. Drs. Müller and Ebert never addressed themselves to her; neitherdid they impress the nurses and the servants with the idea that she wasany thing more than the head-nurse. All these things together made her aspy; and, though nothing happened for which I could be reproved, all thatI said and did was watched and secretly reported. Under a despoticgovernment, the spy is as necessary as the corporal. The annoyance of thisreporting is, that the secrecy exists only for the one whom it concerns;while the subaltern officers and servants receive hints that such a personis kept under constant surveillance. When it was found that no occasionoffered to find fault with me, our administrative inspector was removed, and a surly old corporal put in his place, with the hint that thegovernment of the hospital thought that the former inspector did notperform his duty rightly, since he never reported disturbance in a wardthat had been notorious as being the most disorderly in former times. Thetruth was, that, in my innocence of heart, I had been striving to gain therespect and friendship of my enemies by doing my work better than anybefore me had done. To go to bed at night regularly was a thing unknown tome. Once I was not undressed for twenty-one days and nights;superintending and giving instructions on six or eight confinement casesin every twenty-four hours; lecturing three hours every afternoon to theclass of midwives; giving clinical lectures to them twice a week, for anhour in the morning; superintending the care of some twenty infants, whowere epidemically attacked with purulent ophthalmia; and having, besides, the general supervision of the whole department. But all this could notovercome the hostility of my enemies, the chief cause of which lay in themortification at having been vanquished by my appointment. On the otherhand, I was happy in the thought that Mrs. Schmidt continued to take thesame interest in me as before, and was glad to hear of my partial success. The students, both male and female, were devoted to me, and manifestedtheir gratitude openly and frankly. This was the greatest compensationthat I received for my work. The women wished to show their appreciationby paying me for the extra labor that I performed in their instruction;not knowing the fact, that I did it simply in order that they might passan examination which should again convince the committee that I was in theright place. I forbade them all payment, as I had refused it to the malestudents when they wished to pay me for their extra instruction on themanikin: but in a true, womanly way, they managed to learn the date ofmy birthday; when two or three, instead of attending the lecture, tookpossession of my room, which they decorated with flowers; while en thetable they displayed presents to the amount of some hundred and twentydollars, which the fifty-six women of the class had collected amongthemselves. This was, of course, a great surprise to me, and really mademe feel sad; for I did not wish for things of this sort. I wished to provethat unselfishness was the real motive of my work; and thought that Ishould finally earn the crown of appreciation from my enemies, for which Iwas striving. This gift crossed all my plans. I must accept it, if I wouldnot wound the kindest of hearts; yet I felt that I lost my game by sodoing. I quietly packed every thing into a basket, and put it out of sightunder the bed, in order that I might not be reminded of my loss. Ofcourse, all these things were at once reported. I saw in the faces of manythat something was in agitation, and waited a fortnight in constantexpectation of its coming. But these people wished to crush me entirely. They knew well that a blow comes hardest when least expected, andtherefore kept quiet week after week, until I really began to ask theirpardon in my heart for having done them the wrong to expect them to actmeanly about a thing that was natural and allowable. In a word, I becamequiet and happy again in the performance of my duties; until suddenly sixweeks after my birthday, I was summoned to the presence of Director Horn(the same who had reprimanded me for leaving the church), who received mewith a face as hard and stern as an avenging judge, and asked me whether Iknew that it was against the law to receive any other payment than thatgiven me by the hospital. Upon my avowing that I did, he went on to askhow it was, then, that I had accepted gifts on my birthday. This questionfell upon me like a thunderbolt; for I never had thought of looking uponthese as a payment. Had these women paid me for the instruction that Igave them beyond that which was prescribed, they ought each one to havegiven me the value of the presents. I told him this in reply, and also howdisagreeable the acceptance had been to me, and how ready I was to returnthe whole at his command; since it had been my desire to prove, not onlymy capability, but my unselfishness in the work. The man was ashamed; Isaw it in his face as he turned it away from me: yet he saw in me a proofthat he had been vanquished in intrigue, and was resolved that theoccasion should end in my overthrow. Much more was said about thepresents and their significance; and I soon ceased to be the humble woman, and spoke boldly what I thought, in defiance of his authority, as I haddone at the time of the religious conversation (by the way, I neverattended church again after that interview. ) The end was, that I declaredmy readiness to leave the hospital. He wished to inflict direct punishmenton me; and forbade me to be present at the examination of the class, whichwas to take place the next day. This was really a hard penalty, to whichhe was forced for his own sake; for, if I had been present, I should havetold the whole affair to men of a nobler stamp, who would have opposed, asthey afterwards did, my leaving a place which I filled to their entiresatisfaction. 

I made my preparations to leave the hospital on the 15th of November. Whatwas I to do? I was not made to practise quietly, as is commonly done: myeducation and aspirations demanded more than this. For the time, I coulddo nothing more than inform my patients that I intended to practiseindependently. My father again wished that I should marry; and I began toask myself, whether marriage is an institution to relieve parents fromembarrassment. When troubled about the future of a son, parents are readyto give him to the army; when in fears of the destiny of a daughter, theyinduce her to become the slave of the marriage bond. I never doubted thatit was more unendurable and unworthy to be a wife without love, than asoldier without a special calling for that profession; and I never couldthink of marriage as the means to procure a shelter and bread. 

I had so many schemes in my head, that I would not listen to his words. Among these was especially the wish to emigrate to America. ThePennsylvania Female Medical College had sent its first Report to Dr. Schmidt, who had informed me of it as well as his colleagues, and hadadvocated the justice of such a reform. This fact occurred to my memory;and, for the next two months, I did nothing but speculate how to carry outmy design of emigration. I had lived rather expensively and lavishly, without thinking of laying up any money; and my whole fortune, when I leftthe Charité, consisted of sixty dollars. 

One thing happened in connection with my leaving the hospital, which Imust relate here. Director Horn was required to justify his conduct tothe minister to whom the change had to be reported; and a committee wasappointed to hear the accusation and pass judgment upon the affair. Asthis was done in secrecy and not before a jury, and as the accuser was aman of high rank, I knew nothing of it until Christmas Eve, when Ireceived a document stating that, _as a gratification for my services forthe benefit of the city of Berlin_ in instructing the class of midwives, acompensation was decreed me of fifty dollars. This was a large sum forBerlin, such as was only given on rare occasions. I was also informed thatDirector Horn was instructed to give me, should I ever demand it, afirst-class certificate of what my position had been in the hospital withthe title of Chief attached. Whatever I had suffered from the injustice ofmy enemies, I was now fully recompensed. I inquired who had taken my partso earnestly against Director Horn as to gain this action, and found thatit was Dr. Müller the pathologist, backed by several other physicians. Director Horn, it was said, was greatly humiliated by the decision ofMinister von Raumer, who could not see the least justice in his conduct inthis matter; and, had I not left the hospital so readily, I should neverhave stood so firmly as after this secret trial. 

It was done, however; and I confidently told my mother of my design toemigrate. Between my mother and myself there existed, not merely thestrongest relation of maternal and filial love, but also a professionalsympathy and peculiar friendship, which was the result of two similarminds and hearts, and which made me stand even nearer to her than as achild I could possibly have done. She consented with heart and soul, encouraged me in all my plans and expectations, and asked me at once atwhat time I would leave. I next told my father and the rest of the familyof my plan. My third sister (Anna), a beautiful, joyous young girl, exclaimed, "And I will go with you!" My father, who would not listen to mygoing alone, at once consented to our going together. But I thoughtdifferently In going alone, I risked only my own happiness: in going withher, I risked hers too; while I should be constantly restricted in myadventurous undertaking from having her with me, who knew nothing of theworld save the happiness of a tranquil family life. The next day, I toldthem that I had changed my mind, and should not go away, but shouldestablish myself in Berlin. Of course, I received a torrent of gibes on myfickleness; for they did not understand my feelings in respect to theresponsibility that I feared to take for my younger sister. 

I began to establish myself in practice. Mrs. Schmidt, who was anxious toassist me in my new career, suggested to those physicians who were myfriends the establishment of a private hospital, which should be under mycare. She found them strongly in favor of the plan; and, had I not beenconstantly speculating about leaving for America, this scheme would havebeen realized. But I had resolved to emigrate, and took my measuresaccordingly. I went secretly to Drs. Müller and Ebert, and procuredcertificates from them attesting my position in respect to them in thehospital. I then obtained the certificate from Director Horn, and carriedthem all to the American Chargé d'Affaires (Theodore S. Fay) to have themlegalized in English, so that they could be of service to me inAmerica. [2]

When I told Drs. Ebert and Müller and Mrs. Schmidt of my intention toemigrate, they pronounced me insane. They thought that I had the bestfield of activity open in Berlin, and could not comprehend why I shouldseek greater freedom of person and of action. Little really is known inBerlin about America, and to go there is considered as great anundertaking as to seek the river Styx in order to go to Hades. The remarkthat I heard from almost every quarter was, "What! you wish to go to theland of barbarism, where they have negro slavery, and where they do notknow how to appreciate talent and genius?" But this could not prevent mefrom realizing my plans. I had idealized the freedom of America, andespecially the reform of the position of women, to such an extent, that Iwould not listen to their arguments. After having been several years inAmerica, very probably I would think twice before undertaking again toemigrate; for even the idealized freedom has lost a great deal of itscharm, when I consider how much better it could be. 

Having put every thing in order, I told my father of my conclusion toleave. He was surprised to hear of it the second time: but I showed him mypapers in readiness for the journey, and declared that I should go as soonas the ship was ready to sail; having a hundred dollars, --just moneyenough to pay my passage. He would not give his consent, unless my sisterAnna accompanied me; thinking her, I suppose, a counterpoise to any rashundertakings in which I might engage in a foreign land. If I wished to go, I was, therefore, forced to have her company; of which I should have beenvery glad, had I not feared the moral care and responsibility. We decidedto go in a fortnight. My father paid her passage, and gave her a hundreddollars in cash, --just enough to enable us to spend a short time in NewYork: after which he expected either to send us more money, or that wewould return; and, in case we did this, an agreement was made with theshipping-merchant that payment should be made on our arrival in Hamburg. 

On the 13th of March, 1853, we left the paternal roof, to which we shouldnever return. My mother bade us adieu with tears in her eyes; saying, "_Aurevoir_ in America!" She was determined to follow us. 

Dear Mary, here ends my Berlin and European life; and I can assure youthat this was the hardest moment I ever knew. Upon my memory is for everimprinted the street, the house, the window behind which my mother stoodwaving her handkerchief. Not a tear did I suffer to mount to my eyes, inorder to make her believe that the departure was an easy one; but a heartbeating convulsively within punished me for the restraint. 

My father and brothers accompanied us to the _dépôt_, where the carsreceived us for Hamburg. On our arrival there, we found that the ice hadnot left the Elbe, and that the ships could not sail until the river wasentirely free. We were forced to remain three weeks in Hamburg. We hadtaken staterooms in the clipper ship "Deutschland. " Besides ourselves, there were sixteen passengers in the first cabin; people good enough intheir way, but not sufficiently attractive to induce us to make theiracquaintance. We observed a dead silence as to who we were, where we weregoing, or what was the motive of our emigrating to America. The onlyperson that we ever spoke to was a Mr. R. From Hamburg, a youth ofnineteen, who, like ourselves, had left a happy home in order to try hisstrength in a strange land. The voyage was of forty-seven days' duration;excessively stormy, but otherwise very dull, like all voyages of thiskind; and, had it not been for the expectations that filled our hearts, weshould have died of _ennui_. As it was, the days passed slowly, made worseby the inevitable sea-sickness of our fellow-passengers; and we longed forthe hour that should bring us in sight of the shores of the New World. Andnow commences _my life in America_. 

"Dear Marie, best Marie! make haste to come upon deck to see America! Oh, how pleasant it is to see the green trees again! How brightly the sun isgilding the land you are seeking, --the land of freedom!" With suchchildlike exclamations of delight, my sister Anna burst into my cabin tohasten my appearance on deck on the morning of the 22d of May, 1853. Thebeautiful child of nineteen summers was only conscious of a heartoverflowing with pleasure at the sight of the charming landscape thatopened before her eyes after a tedious voyage of forty-seven days upon theocean. We had reached the quarantine at Staten Island. The captain, theold pilot, every one, gazed at her as she danced joyously about the deck, with a mingled feeling of sadness and curiosity; for our reserve while onshipboard had surrounded us with a sort of mystery which none knew how tounravel. 

As soon as I had dressed for going on shore, and had packed up the thingsthat we had used on our voyage, in order that they might not be stolenduring this time of excitement, I obeyed the last call of my impatientsister to come at least to see the last rays of sunrise; and went on deck, where I was at once riveted by the beautiful scene that was spread beforemy eyes. The green, sloping lawns, with which the white cottages formedsuch a cheerful contrast; the trees, clad in their first foliage, andsuggesting hope by their smiling blossoms; the placid cows, feedingquietly in the fields; the domestic chickens, just visible in thedistance; and the friendly barking of a dog, --all seemed to greet me witha first welcome to the shores of this strange country: while the sun, shining brightly from a slightly clouded sky, mellowed the wholelandscape, and so deeply impressed my soul, that tears sprang to my eyes, and a feeling rose in my heart that I can call nothing else thandevotional; for it bowed my knees beneath me, and forced sounds from mylips that I could not translate into words, for they were mysterious tomyself. A stranger in a strange, wide land, not knowing its habits andcustoms, not understanding its people, not yet understanding its workingsand aims, my mind was not clouded with loneliness. I was happy. Had it notbeen my own wish that had made me leave the home of a kind father, and ofa mother beloved beyond all earthly beings? I had succeeded in safelyreaching the shores of America. Life was again open before me. With thesethoughts, I turned from the beautiful landscape; and finding the captain, a noble-hearted sailor, inquired of him how long it would take us to reachthe port of New York. "That is New York, " said he, pointing to a dark massof buildings, with here and there a spire towering in the air. "We shallreach there about eight o'clock; but it is Sunday, and you will have tostay on board till to-morrow. " With this he turned away, calling his mento weigh anchor; as the physician, whose duty it was to inspect the cargoof men, like cattle, had just left in his boat. On we went, my sisterstill dancing and singing for joy; and Mr. R. And myself sitting somewhatapart, --he looking dedespondently into the water, I with my head firmlyraised in the air, happy in heart, but thoughtful in mind, and trusting inmy inward strength for the future. 

I took my breakfast on deck. No one seemed to have any appetite; and Ifelt somewhat reproved when I heard some one near me say, "She seems tohave neither head nor heart: see how tranquilly she can eat at such a timeas this!" These words were spoken by one of the cabin-passengers, --a youngman, who was exceedingly curious to know why I was going to America, andhad several times tried to make the rest of the passengers believe that itmust be in consequence of an unhappy love. The poor simpleton! he thoughtthat women could only enter into life through the tragedy of a brokenheart. 

A bell sounded. We were opposite Trinity Church, which had just struckeight. On my right lay an enormous collection of bricks (houses I couldnot call them; for, seen from the ship, they resembled only a pile ofruins); on my left, the romantic shore of New Jersey. But the admirationwith which I had gazed upon Staten Island was gone as I stood before thisbeautiful scene; the appreciation of Nature was mastered by anotherfeeling, --a feeling of activity that had become my ideal. I had come herefor a purpose, --to carry out the plan which a despotic government and itsservile agents had prevented me from doing in my native city. I had toshow to those men who had opposed me so strongly because I was a woman, that in this land of liberty, equality, and fraternity, I could maintainthat position which they would not permit to me at home. My talents werein an unusual direction. I was a physician; and, as such, had for yearsmoved in the most select circles of Berlin. Even my enemies had beenforced to give me the highest testimonials: and these were the onlytreasure that I brought to this country; for I had given my last dollar tothe sailor who brought me the first news that land was in sight. 

I looked again upon New York, but with a feeling that a great mystery waslying before my eyes, --a feeling that was confirmed by the men, who cameoff to the ship in small boats, speaking a language that seemed like achaos of sounds. As I turned, I saw my sister coming slowly up from thecabin with a changed air; and I asked her with surprise what was thematter. "O Marie!" said she, "most of the passengers are called for. Mr. R. 's brother has just come to take him on shore. He was so glad to seehim (for he thought he was in New Orleans), that I think he will forget tosay good-by. I am afraid that we shall have to stay here all alone, and"--"Are the Misses Zakrzewska on board?" called a voice from a littleboat by the side of the ship. We looked down in surprise, but did notrecognize the man, who spoke as if he were an acquaintance. The captainanswered "Yes. " Upon which the same voice said, "Mr. G. Requests them towait: he will be here in a moment. "

This announcement surprised us the more that it came from a totallyunexpected quarter. An acquaintance of ours, who had emigrated to New Yorka few years before, and had shortly after married a Mr. G. , had heard fromher brother in Berlin of our departure for America in the ship"Deutschland;" and these good people, thinking that they could be of useto us in a new country, had been watching for its arrival. No one on boarddared ask a question as to who our friends were, so reserved had we beenin regard to our plans: only the young man who had accused me of havingneither head nor heart said, half aside, "Ah, ha! now we know the reasonwhy Miss Marie ate her breakfast so calmly, while her sister danced forjoy. They had beaux who were expecting them. " "Simpleton!" thought I:"must women always have beaux in order to be calm about the future?"

Mr. G. Came on board in a few minutes, bringing us from his wife aninvitation of welcome to her house. I cannot express in words the emotionawakened in my heart by the really unselfish kindness that had impelledthese people to greet us in this manner; and this was increased when wereached their very modest dwelling, consisting of a large shop in whichMr. G. Carried on his business of manufacturing fringes and tassels, onesitting-room, a bedroom, and a small kitchen. My strength left me, and mycomposure dissolved in a flood of tears. The good people did all that theycould to make us feel at home, and insisted that we should occupy thesitting-room until we had decided what further to do. Of course, Idetermined that this should be for as short a time as possible, and thatwe would immediately look out for other lodgings. 

One-half of this first day was spent in talking about home; the other, inmaking an excursion to Hoboken. This visit we would gladly have dispensedwith, so exhausted were we by the excitement that we had passed throughsince sunrise; but our friends were bent on entertaining us with storiesand sights of the New World, and we followed them rather reluctantly. Ihave since been glad that I did so; for my mind was in a state thatrendered it far more impressible than usual, and therefore better fittedto observe much that would have been lost to me in a less-excitedcondition. Here I first saw the type of common German life on Sunday inAmerica; and I saw enough of it on that one Sunday afternoon to last awhole lifetime. My friends called on several of their acquaintances. Everywhere that we went, I noticed two peculiarities, --comparative povertyin the surroundings, and apparent extravagance in the manner of living:for in every house we found an abundance of wine, beer, cake, meat, salad, &c. , although it was between the hours of meals; and every one was eating, although no one seemed hungry. At nine o'clock in the evening, the visitwas concluded by going to a hotel, where a rich supper was served up tous; and at eleven at night we returned home. My work in America hadalready commenced. Was it not necessary for a stranger in a new country toobserve life in all its phases, before entering upon it? It seemed so tome; and I had already planned, while on ship-board, to spend the firstmonth in observations of this kind. I had made a fair beginning; and, whenI saw many repetitions of this kind of life among my countrymen, I fearedthat this was their main purpose in this country, and their consolationfor the loss of the entertainments and recreations which their fatherlandoffered to them. But, as soon as I got opportunity to make my observationsamong the educated classes I found my fear ungrounded; and I also foundthat the Americans had noticed the impulse for progress and higherdevelopment which animated these Germans. The German mind, so much honoredin Europe for its scientific capacity, for its consistency regardingprinciples, and its correct criticism, is not dead here: but it has tostruggle against difficulties too numerous to be detailed here; andtherefore it is that the Americans don't know of its existence, and thechief obstacle is their different languages. A Humboldt must remainunknown here, unless he chooses to Americanize himself in every respect;and could he do this without ceasing to be Humboldt the cosmopolitangenius?

It would be a great benefit to the development of this country if theGerman language was made a branch of education, and not an accomplishmentsimply. Only then would the Americans appreciate how much has been done bythe Germans to advance higher development, and to diffuse the trueprinciples of freedom. It would serve both parties to learn how much theGermans aid in developing the reason, and supporting progress in everydirection. The revolution of 1848 has been more serviceable to Americathan to Germany; for it has caused the emigration of thousands of men whowould have been the pride of a free Germany. America has received theGerman freemen, whilst Germany has retained the _subjects_. 

The next morning, I determined to return to the ship to look after mybaggage. As Mr. And Mrs. G. Were busy in their shop, there was no one toaccompany me: I therefore had either to wait until they were at leisure, or to go alone. I chose the latter, and took my first walk in the city ofNew York on my way to the North River, where the ship was lying. The noiseand bustle everywhere about me absorbed my attention to such a degree, that, instead of turning to the right hand, I went to the left, and foundmyself at the East River, in the neighborhood of Peck Slip. Here Iinquired after the German ship "Deutschland, " and was directed, in mynative tongue, down to the Battery, and thence up to Pier 13, where Ifound the ship discharging the rest of her passengers and their baggage. It was eleven o'clock when I reached the ship: I had, therefore, taken athree-hours' walk. I had now to wait until the custom-house officer hadinspected my trunks, and afterwards for the arrival of Mr. G. , who came atone o'clock with a cart to convey the baggage to his house. While standingamidst the crowd, a man in a light suit of clothes of no positive color, with a complexion of the same sort, came up to me, and asked, in German, whether I had yet found a boarding-place The man's smooth faceinstinctively repelled me; yet the feeling that I was not independentlyestablished made me somewhat indefinite in my reply. On seeing this, he atonce grew talkative and friendly, and, speaking of the necessity offinding a safe and comfortable home, said that he could recommend me to ahotel where I would be treated honestly; or that, if I chose to be in aprivate family, he knew of a very kind, motherly lady, who kept aboarding-house for ladies alone, --not to make money, but for the sake ofher country-women. The familiarity that he mingled in his conversationwhile trying to be friendly made me thoroughly indignant: I turned my backupon him, saying that I did not need his services. It was not long beforeI saw him besieging my sister Anna, who had come with Mr. G. ; beingnervous lest I might not have found the ship. What he said to her, I donot know. I only remember that she came to me, saying, "I am afraid ofthat man: I wish that we could go home soon. " This meeting with a man whomakes friendly offers of service may seem a small matter to the merelooker-on; but it ceases to be so when one knows his motives: and, sincethat time, I have had but too many opportunities to see for what end theseoffers are made. Many an educated girl comes from the Old World to find aposition as governess or teacher, who is taken up in this manner, and isnever heard from again, or is only found in the most wretched condition. It is shameful that the most effective arrangements should not be made forthe safety of these helpless beings, who come to these shores with thehope of finding a Canaan. 

The week was mostly spent in looking for apartments; as we had concludedto commence housekeeping on a small scale, in order to be more independentand to save money. On our arrival, I had borrowed from my sister thehundred dollars which my father had given her on our departure fromBerlin, and which was to be my capital until I had established myself inbusiness. I succeeded in finding a suite of rooms, with windows facing thestreet, in the house of a grocer; and, having put them in perfect order, we moved into them on the 6th of June, paying eleven dollars as our rentfor two months in advance. 

My sister took charge of our first day's housekeeping while I went todeliver my letters of introduction. I went first to Dr. Reisig, inFourteenth Street. My mother, who had employed him when he was a young manand we were small children, had spoken of him kindly; and, for thisreason, I had confidence in him. I found him a very friendly man, but byno means a cordial one. He informed me that female physicians in thiscountry were of the lowest rank, and that they did not hold even theposition of a good nurse. He said that he wished to be of service to me ifI were willing to serve as nurse; and, as he was just then in need of agood one, would recommend me for the position. I thanked him for hiscandor and kindness, but refused his offer, as I could not condescend tobe patronized in this way. Depressed in hope, but strengthened in will, Idid not deliver any more of my letters, since they were all to physicians, and I could not hope to be more successful in other quarters. I went home, therefore, determined to commence practice as a stranger. 

The result of my experiment discouraged my sister greatly. Aftermeditating for some time, she suddenly said, "Marie, I read in the paperthis morning of a dressmaker who wanted some one to sew for her. I knowhow to sew well: I shall go there, and you can attend to our littlehousehold. No one here knows me, and I do not think there is any thingwrong in my trying to earn some money. "

She was determined, and went. I put up my sign, and spent my time inattending to the household duties, and in reading in order to gaininformation of the country and the people. Occasionally I took walksthrough different parts of the city, to learn, from the houses and theirsurroundings the character of life in New York. I am sure that though, perhaps, I appeared idle, I was not so in reality; for during this time Ilearned the philosophy of American life. 

But our stock of money was becoming less and less. To furnish the roomshad cost us comparatively little, as we had brought a complete set ofhousehold furniture with us; but paying the rent and completing thearrangements had not left us more than enough to live upon, in the mosteconomical manner, until the 1st of August. My sister obtained the placeat the dressmaker's; and after working a week from seven in the morninguntil twelve (when she came home to dinner), then from one in theafternoon until seven in the evening, she received two dollars andseventy-five cents as the best sewer of six. She brought home the hardlyearned money with tears in her eyes; for she had expected at least threedollars for the week's work. She had made each day a whole muslin dress, with the trimmings. And this was not all: the dressmaker often did not payon Saturday nights, because, as she said, people did not pay herpunctually; and the poor girls received their wages by six or eightshillings at a time. For the last two weeks of my sister's work, shereceived her payment seven weeks after she had left. 

We lived in this manner until the middle of July, when I lost patience;for practice did not come as readily as I wished, nor was I in a positionfor making money in any other way. My sister, usually so cheerful andhappy, grew grave from the unusual work and close confinement. One ofthese nights, on lying down to sleep, she burst into tears, and told me ofher doubts and fears for the future. I soothed her as well as I could, andshe fell asleep. For myself, I could not sleep, but lay awake all nightmeditating what I could possibly do. Should I write home, requesting helpfrom my father? He certainly would have given it; for we had received aletter two weeks before, offering us all desirable aid. No: all my priderebelled against it. "I must help myself, " I thought, "and thatto-morrow. "

The next morning, my sister left me as usual. I went out, and walkedthrough the city to Broadway turning into Canal Street, where I had formedan acquaintance with a very friendly German woman by purchasing littlearticles at various times at her store. I entered without any particulardesign, and exchanged a few commonplaces with her about the weather. Herhusband stood talking with a man about worsted goods, and theirconversation caught my ear. The merchant was complaining because themanufacturer did not supply him fast enough: upon which the man answered, that it was very difficult to get good hands to work; and that, besides, he had more orders than it was possible to fill; naming several merchantswhose names I had seen in Broadway, who were also complaining because hedid not supply them. After he had left, I asked carelessly what kind ofarticles were in demand, and was shown a great variety of worstedfancy-goods. A thought entered my brain. I left the store, and, walkingdown Broadway, asked at one of the stores that had been mentioned for acertain article of worsted goods, in order to learn the price. Findingthis enormous, I did not buy it; and returned home, calculating on my wayhow much it would cost to manufacture these articles, and how much profitcould be made in making them on a large scale. I found that two hundredper cent profit might be made by going to work in the right way. My sistercame home, as usual, to dinner. I sat down with her, but could not eat. She looked at me anxiously, and said, "I hope you are not sick again. Oh, dear! what shall we do if you get sick?" I had been ill for a week, andshe feared a relapse. I said nothing of my plan, but consoled her inrespect to my health. 

As soon as she had left, I counted my money. But five dollars remained. IfI had been dependent upon money for cheerfulness, I should certainly havebeen discouraged. I went to John Street, and, entering a large worstedstore, inquired of a cheerful-looking girl the wholesale price of the bestBerlin wool; how many colors could be had in a pound; &c. The pleasant andready answers that I received in my native tongue induced me to tell herfrankly that I wanted but a small quantity at that time, but that Iintended to make an experiment in manufacturing worsted articles; and, ifsuccessful, would like to open a small credit, which she said theygenerally would do when security was given. 

I purchased four and a half dollars' worth of worsted; so that fifty centswere left in my pocket when I quitted the store. I then went to the officeof a German newspaper, where I paid twenty-five cents for advertising forgirls who understood all kinds of knitting. When my sister came home atnight, the worsted was all sorted on the table in parcels for the girlswho would come the next morning, while I was busily engaged in theexperiment of making little worsted tassels. I had never been skilful inknitting; but in this I succeeded so well, that I could have made ahundred yards of tassels in one day. My sister turned pale on seeing allthis; and hurriedly asked, "How much money have you spent?"--"All, mydear Anna, " answered I; "all, except twenty-five cents, which will besufficient to buy a pound of beefsteak and potatoes for to-morrow'sdinner. Bread, tea, and sugar we have still in the house; and to-morrownight you will bring home your twenty-two shillings. " "May you succeed, Marie! that is all I have to say, " was her reply. She learned of me thatevening how to make the tassels; and we worked till midnight, finishing alarge number. 

The next day was Saturday, and some women really came to get work. I gavethem just enough for one day, keeping one day's work in reserve. The daywas spent busily in arranging matters, so that, on Monday morning, I mightbe able to carry a sample of the manufactured articles to those storesthat I had heard mentioned as not being sufficiently supplied. 

In the evening, my sister came home without her money: the dressmaker hadgone into the country in the afternoon, without paying the girls. She wasmore than sad, and I felt a little uncomfortable; for what was I to do, without money to provide for the next two days, or to pay those girls onMonday with whose work I might not be satisfied? What was to be done? Togo down to our landlord, the grocer, and ask him to advance us a fewdollars? No: he was a stranger, and had no means of knowing that we wouldreturn the money. Besides, I did not wish the people in the house to knowour condition. 

My resolution was taken. I proposed to my sister to go to the market withme to buy meat and fruit for the morrow. She looked at me with blankastonishment; but, without heeding it, I said calmly, taking from thebureau-drawer the chain of my watch, "Anna, opposite the market, there isa pawnbroker. No one knows us; and, by giving a fictitious name, we canget money, without thanking any one for it. " She was satisfied; and, taking a little basket, we went on our errand. I asked of the pawnbrokersix dollars, under the name of Müller and received the money; after whichwe made our purchases, and went home in quite good spirits. 

On Monday morning, the knitters brought home their work. I paid them, andgave them enough for another day; after which I set about finishing eachpiece, completing the task about two in the afternoon. This done, Icarried the articles to Broadway; and, leaving a sample in a number ofstores, received orders from them for several dozens. [3] I then went tothe worsted store in John Street, where I also obtained orders for themanufactured articles, together with ten dollars' worth of worsted oncredit; having first given my name and residence to the book-keeper, withthe names of the stores from which I had received orders. In the evening, when my sister came home, I was, therefore, safely launched into amanufacturing business. The news cheered her greatly; but she could not beinduced to quit her sewing. The new business had sprung up so rapidly andpleasantly that she could not trust in the reality of its existence. 

I must tell you here something of the social life that we led. We hadbrought a number of friendly letters with us from our acquaintances inBerlin to their friends and relatives in America; all of which, upon ourarrival, we sent by post, with the exception of two, --the one sent by aneighbor to his son, Albert C. ; the other to a young artist; both of whomcalled for their letters. About four weeks after we were settled in NewYork, we received a call from some young men whose sisters had beenschoolmates of my sisters in Berlin, who came to inquire of us where tofind Mr. C. We could give them no information, as we had not seen himsince he called for his letter; neither did we now see any thing of theG. 's: but the acquaintance thus formed with these young men was continued, and our solitude was now and then enlivened by an hour's call from them. Soon after I had commenced my new business, they came one day in companywith Mr. C. , whom they had met accidently in the street, and, on hisexpressing a wish to see us, had taken the liberty to bring to our house. 

My business continued to prosper; and, by constantly offering none but thebest quality of goods for sale, in a very short time I had so much to do, that my whole time in the day was occupied with out-door business, and Iwas forced to sit up at night with my sister to prepare work for theknitters. At one time, we had constantly thirty girls in our employ; andin this way I became acquainted with many of those unfortunates who hadbeen misled and ruined on their arrival by persons pretending friendship. Two of these in particular interested me greatly. One, the grand-daughterof Krummacher, and bearing his name, was the daughter of a physician, whohad come to this country, hoping to find a place as governess. Poor girl!she was a mere wreck when I found her, and all my efforts to raise her upwere in vain. She was sick, and in a terrible mental condition. We tookher into our house, nursed her and cared for her, and, when she hadrecovered, supplied her with work; for which we paid her so well, that shealways had three dollars a week, which paid for her board and washing. Itwas twice as much as she could earn, yet not enough to make her feelreconciled with life. At one time, she did not come to us for a wholeweek. I went to see her, and her landlady told me that she was melancholy. I persuaded her to come and stay with us for a few days; but, in spite ofall my friendly encouragement I could not succeed in restoring her tocheerfulness. She owned that she could not work merely to live: she didnot feel the pangs of hunger; but she felt the want of comforts to whichshe had been accustomed, and which, in our days, are regarded asnecessities. She attempted to find a situation as governess; but herproficiency in music, French, and drawing, counted as nothing. She had nocity references; and, having been two years in New York, dared not namethe place to which she had been conducted on her arrival. She left us atlast in despair, after having been a week with us. She never called again, and I could not learn from her landlady where she had gone. Three monthsafterwards, I heard from one of the girls in our employ that she hadmarried a poor shoemaker in order to have a home; but I never learnedwhether this was true. About a year later, I met her in the Bowery, poorlybut cleanly dressed. She hastily turned away her face on seeing me; and Ionly caught a glimpse of the crimson flush that overspread hercountenance. 

The other girl that I referred to was a Miss Mary ----, who came with hermother to this country, expecting to live with a brother. They found thebrother married, and unwilling to support his sister; while his wife wasby no means friendly in her reception of his mother. The good girldetermined to earn a support for her mother, and a pretended friendoffered to take care of their things until she could find work and rentlodgings. After four weeks' search, she found a little room and bedroom ina rear-building in Elizabeth Street, at five dollars a month; and waspreparing to move, when her _friend_ presented a bill of forty dollars forhis services. She could only satisfy his rapacity by selling every thingthat she could possibly spare: after which she commenced to work; and asshe embroidered a great deal, besides working for me (for which I paid hersix dollars a week), for a time she lived tolerably well. After some time, her mother fell ill; and she had to nurse her and attend to the household, as well as labor for their support. It was a trying time for the poorgirl. She sought her brother; but he had moved to the West. I did all thatI could for her; but this was not half enough: and, after I had quittedthe manufacturing business and left the city, my sister heard that she haddrowned herself in the Hudson, because her mother's corpse was lying inthe house, while she had not a cent to give it burial, or to buy a pieceof bread, without selling herself to vice. 

Are not these two terrible romances of New-York life? And many besides didI learn among these poor women; so many, indeed, that I forget the detailsof all. Stories of this kind are said to be without foundation: I say thatthere are more of them in our midst than it is possible to imagine. Womenof good education, but without money, are forced to earn their living. They determine to leave their home, either because false pridepreprevents their seeking work where they have been brought up as_ladies_, or because this work is so scarce that they cannot earn by iteven a life of semi-starvation; while they are encouraged to believe thatin this country they will readily find proper employment. They are toowell educated to become domestics; better educated, indeed, than are halfthe teachers here: but modesty, and the habit of thinking that they mustpass through the same legal ordeal as in Europe, prevent them from seekingplaces in this capacity. They all know how to embroider in the mostbeautiful manner; and, knowing that this is well paid for in Europe, seekto find employment of this kind in the stores. Not being able to speakEnglish, they believe the stories of the clerks and proprietors and aremade to work at low wages, and are often swindled out of their money. Theyfeel homesick forlorn and forsaken in the world. Their health at lengthfails them, and they cannot earn bread enough to keep themselves fromstarvation. They are too proud to beg; and the consequence is, that theywalk the streets, or throw themselves into the river. 

I met scores of these friendless women. Some I took into my house; forothers I found work, and made myself a sort of guardian; while to othersI gave friendship to keep them morally alive. It is a curious fact, thatthese women are chiefly Germans. The Irish resort at once to beggary orare inveigled into brothels, as soon as they arrive; while the French arealways intriguing enough either to put on a white cap and find a place as_bonne_, or to secure a _private_ lover. 

I am often in despair about the helplessness of women, and the readinessof men to let them earn money in abundance by shame, while they grind themdown to the merest pittance for honorable work. Shame on society, thatwomen are forced to surrender themselves to an abandoned life and death, when so many are enjoying wealth and luxury in extravagance! I do not wishthem to divide their estates with the poor; I am no friend to communism inany form: I only wish institutions that shall give to women an educationfrom childhood that will enable them, like young men, to earn theirlivelihood. These weak women are the last to come forth to aid in theiremancipation from inefficient education. We cannot calculate upon these:we must educate the children for better positions and leave the adults totheir destiny. 

How many women marry only for a shelter or a home! How often have I beenthe confidante of girls, who the day before, arrayed in satin, had giventheir hands to rich men before the altar, while their hearts were breakingwith suppressed agony! and this, too, among Americans, this great, freenation, who, notwithstanding, let their women starve. It is but latelythat a young woman said to me, "I thank Heaven, my dear doctor, that youare a woman; for now I can tell you the truth about my health. It is notmy body that is sick, but my heart. These flounces and velvets cover abody that is sold, --sold legally to a man who could pay my father'sdebts. " Oh! I scorn men, sometimes from the bottom of my heart. Still thisis wrong: for it is the women's, the mothers' fault, in educating theirdaughters to be merely beautiful machines, fit to ornament a fineestablishment; while, if they do not succeed in gaining this, there isnothing left but wretchedness of mind and body. Women, there is aconnection between the Fifth Avenue and the Five Points! Both the rich andthe wretched are types of womanhood; both are linked together, forming onegreat body; and both have the same part in good and evil. I can hardlyleave this subject, though it may seem to have little to do with myAmerican experience; but a word spoken from a full heart not only givesrelief, but may fall on _one_ listening ear, and take root there. 

I must now return to my new enterprise. The business paid well: and, although I was often forced to work with my sister till the dawn ofmorning, we were happy; for we had all that we needed, and I could writehome that the offered assistance was superfluous. Here I must say, that Ihad resolved, on leaving Berlin, never to ask for aid, in order that Imight be able with perfect freedom to carry out my plans independently ofmy family. How this was ever to be done, I did not yet see; though I had agood opportunity to learn, from life and from the papers, what I had toexpect here. But this mode of instruction, though useful to one seeking tobecome a philosopher, was very unsatisfactory to me. The chief thing thatI learned was, that I must acquire English before I could undertake anything. And this was the most difficult point to overcome. I am not alinguist by nature: all that I learn of languages must be obtained by thegreatest perseverance and industry; and, for this, my business would notallow me time. 

Shortly after I had fairly established myself in the manufacturingbusiness, I received news from Berlin, that Sister Catherine had left theHospital Charité, and was intending to join me in America, in order to aidme in carrying out my plan for the establishment of a hospital for womenin the New World. The parties interested in her had finally succeeded inplacing her in the wished-for position, thus disconnecting her from thesisterhood. But, after my departure, the position became greatly modifiedin rank, and inferior in character. Private reasons besides made itdisagreeable for her to remain there any longer; and in this moment sheremembered my friendship towards her, and in the unfortunate belief thatshe shared with many others, that all that I designed to do I could do atonce, resolved to come to me, and offer her assistance. She joined us onthe 22d of August, and was not a little disappointed to find me in thetassel instead of the medical line. The astonishment with which heracquaintances in Berlin heard her announce her intention of going to seekhelp from a person to whom she had been less than a friend, could not beexpressed in words; and she told me that the annoyance that theymanifested was really the chief stimulus that decided her to come at last. She arrived without a cent. Having always found friends enough ready tosupply her with money, whenever she wished to establish a temporaryhospital, it had never occurred to her that she should need any forprivate use, beyond just enough to furnish the simple blue merino dress ofthe sisterhood, which had often been provided for her by the KaiserswerthInstitute. But here she was; and she very soon learned to understand thedifficulties which must be overcome before I could enter again into myprofession. She became satisfied, and lived with us, sharing equally inwhatever we had ourselves. There is a peculiar satisfaction in showingkindness to a person who has injured us, though unconsciously underdifferent circumstances: and, in her case, she was not entirelyunconscious of the harm she had done me; for she confessed to me while inAmerica, that her acquaintance was courted by all those who had beenthwarted in their opposition by my appointment, and that she knew wellthat they sought every opportunity to annoy me. 

On the 18th of September, a sister, one year younger than myself, joinedus; having been tempted by our favorable accounts to try a life ofadventure. We were now four in the family. But Catherine gradually grewdiscontented. Having been accustomed to the comforts afforded in largeinstitutions, and to receiving attentions from the most aristocraticfamilies of Prussia, the monotonous life that we led was only endurable toher so long as the novelty lasted. This soon wore off, and she becameanxious for a change. She had heard her fellow-passengers speak of aPastor S. , who had been sent to America as a missionary; and she begged meto seek him out, and take her to him, that she might consult him as towhat she had best do. I did so, and she soon became acquainted with hisfamily. Mr. S. Exerted himself in her behalf, and secured her a place asnurse in the Home for the Friendless, where she had the charge of somethirty children. This was a heavy task; for, though none were under a yearold, she was constantly disturbed through the night, and could get but afew hours' consecutive sleep. Besides, she could not become reconciled towashing under the hydrant in the morning, and to being forced to minglewith the commonest Irish girls. She was in every respect a lady, and hadbeen accustomed to have a servant at her command, even in the midst of thetyphus-fever in the desolate districts of Silesia; while here she was noteven treated with humanity. This soon grew unbearable; and she returned tous on the 16th of October, after having been only ten days in theinstitution. So eager was she to make her escape, that she did not evenask for the two dollars that were due her for wages. But we could notreceive her; for we had taken another woman in her place, as friendlessand as penniless as she. Besides, a misfortune had just fallen upon us. During the night before, our doors had been unlocked, our bureau-drawersinspected, and all our money, amounting to fifty-two dollars, carried off;and, when Catherine arrived, we were so poor that we had to borrow thebread and milk for our breakfast. Fortunately, the day before, I hadrefused the payment due me for a large bill of goods; and this came now ina very good time. I did not feel justified, however, in increasing thefamily to five after our loss; nor did she claim our assistance, but wentagain to Pastor S. , who had invited her to visit his family. With hisassistance, she obtained some private nursing, which maintained her untilthe congregation had collected money enough to enable her to return toBerlin; which she did on the 2d of December. Having many friends in thebest circles of that city, she immediately found a good practice again;and is now, as she says, enjoying life in a civilized manner. 

We moved at once from the scene of the robbery and took a part of a housein Monroe Street, for which we paid two hundred dollars a year. Ourbusiness continued good, and I had some prospects of getting intopractice. But, with spring, the demand for worsted goods ceased; and as mypractice brought me work, but no money, I was forced to look out forsomething else to do. By accident, I saw in a store a coiffure made ofsilk, in imitation of hair, which I bought; but I found, on examination, that I could not manufacture it, as it was machine-work. I went, therefore, to Mr. G. , and proposed to establish a business with him, inwhich he should manufacture these coiffures, while I would sell them bywholesale to the merchants with whom I was acquainted. Mr. G. Hadcompletely ruined himself during the winter by neglecting his business andmeddling with Tammany-Hall politics, which had wasted his money and histime. He had not a single workman in his shop when I called, and was toomuch discouraged to think of any new enterprise; but, on my telling himthat I would be responsible for the first outlay, he engaged hands, and, in less than a month, had forty-eight persons busily employed. In this wayI earned money during the spring, and freed myself from the obligationswhich his kindness in receiving us the spring before had laid upon us. 

My chief business now was to sell the goods manufactured by Mr. G. Ourworsted business was very small; and the prospect was that it would ceaseentirely, and that the coiffure that we made would not long continue infashion. Some other business, therefore, had to be found, especially as itwas impossible for us to lay up money. Our family now consisted of myselfand two sisters, the friend that was staying with us, and a brother, nineteen years of age, who had joined us during the winter, and who, though an engineer and in good business, was, like most young men, thoughtless and more likely to increase than to lighten our burdens. Ourfriend Mr. C. , who had become our constant visitor, planned at this time ajourney to Europe; so that our social life seemed also about to come to anend. 

On the 13th of May, 1854, as I was riding down to the stores on my usualbusiness, reveries of the past took possession of my mind. Almost a yearin America, and not one step advanced towards my purpose in coming hither!It was true that I had a comfortable home, with enough to live upon, andhad repaid my sister the money that I had borrowed from her on ourarrival; yet what kind of a life was it that I was leading, in a businessforeign to my nature and inclinations, and without even the prospect ofenlarging this? These reflections made me so sad, that, when I reached thestore, the book-keeper noticed my dejection, and told me, by way ofcheering me, that he had another order for a hundred dollars' worth ofgoods, &c. ; but this did not relieve me. I entered the omnibus again, speculating constantly on what I should do next; when a thought suddenlydawned upon me. Might not the people in the Home for the Friendless beable to give me advice? I had hardly conceived the idea, when I determinedto ride directly up there, instead of stopping at the street in which Ilived. I thought, besides, that some employment might be found for mysister Anna, in which she could learn the English language, for which shehad evinced some talent, while I had decided that I could never becomemaster of it. I had seen the matron, Miss Goodrich, once when I calledthere on Catherine S. She had a humane face, and I was persuaded that Ishould find a friend in her. I was not mistaken. I told her of my plans incoming here, and of our present mode of life and prospects; and confidedto her my disappointment and dejection, as well as my determination topersevere courageously. She seemed to understand and to enter into myfeelings, and promised to see Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell, whom she advised meto call upon at once. 

I went home full of the hope and inspiration of a new life. Dear Mary, youcan hardly comprehend the happiness of that morning. I was not suffering, it is true, for the necessaries of life; but, what was far worse, Isuffered from the feeling that I lived for no purpose but to eat and todrink. I had no friends who were interested in the pursuits towards whichmy nature inclined; and I saw crowds of arrogant people about me, to whomI could not prove that I was their equal in spite of their money. Mysisters had not seen me so cheerful since our arrival in America, andthought that I had surely discovered the philosopher's stone. I told themof what I had done, and received their approbation. 

On the morning of the 15th of May, --the anniversary of the death of Dr. Schmidt and of my greatest joy and my greatest misery, --we received a callfrom Miss Goodrich, who told us that she had seen Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell, and thought that she had also procured a suitable place for my sister. Shegave us the addresses of Dr. Blackwell and of Miss Catherine Sedgwick. Wecalled first upon the latter, who was extremely kind; and although shehad quite misunderstood our wishes, --having exerted herself to procure aplace for my sister in a way that manifested the belief that we hadneither a home nor the means to live, --yet her friendliness and readinessto assist us made us for ever grateful to her. At that time we did notknow her standing in society, and looked upon her merely as a benevolentand wealthy woman. We soon learned more of her, however: for, thoughunsuccessful in her first efforts, she shortly after sent for my sister, having secured her a place in Mr. Theodore Sedgwick's family; which wasacceptable, inasmuch as it placed her above the level of the servants. Sheremained there seven weeks, and then returned home. 

On the same morning, I saw Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell; and from this call ofthe 15th of May I date my new life in America. She spoke a little German, and understood me perfectly when I talked. I gave her all my certificatesfor inspection but said nothing to her of my plans in coming to America. It would have seemed too ludicrous for me in my position to tell her thatI entertained the idea of interesting the people in the establishment of ahospital for women. I hardly know what I told her, indeed; for I had noother plan of which to speak, and therefore talked confusedly, like anadventurer. I only know that I said that I would take the position ofnurse, if I could enter one of the large hospitals, in order to learn themanner in which they were managed in this country. 

I cannot comprehend how Dr. Blackwell could ever have taken so deep aninterest in me as she manifested that morning; for I never in my life wasso little myself. Yet she did take this interest; for she gave me a sketchof her own experience in acquiring a medical education, and explained therequirements for such in this country, and the obstacles that are thrownin the way of women who seek to become physicians. She told me of her planof founding a hospital, --the long-cherished idea of my life; and said thatshe had opened a little dispensary--the charter for which was procuredduring the preceding winter, under the name of "The New-York Infirmary forIndigent Women and Children"--on the 1st of May, two weeks before, andwhich was designed to be the nucleus for this hospital, where she invitedme to come and assist her. She insisted that, first of all, I should learnEnglish; and offered to give me lessons twice a week, and also to makeefforts to enable me to enter a college to acquire the title of M. D. , which I had not the right to attach to my name. I left her after severalhours' conversation, and we parted friends. 

I continued my work at home; going regularly to Dr. Blackwell to receivelessons in English, and to assist her in the dispensary. As we grew betteracquainted, I disclosed more to her of the fact, that I had a fixed planin coming to this country; which increased her interest in me. She wrotein my behalf to the different colleges, and at length succeeded inobtaining admission for me to the Cleveland Medical College (WesternReserve) on the most favorable terms; credit being given me on thelecture-fees for an indefinite time. 

Here I must stop to tell you why this credit was necessary. The articlesthat I had manufactured had gone out of fashion in May: and I could notinvent any thing new, partly because I no longer felt the same interest asbefore, knowing that I should soon go to a medical college; and partlybecause the articles then in fashion were cheaper when imported. We had tolive for a little while on the money that we had laid up, until I procureda commission for embroidering caps. It is perfectly wonderful intowhat kinds of business I was forced, all foreign to my taste. 

And here let me tell you some secrets of this kind of business, in whichhundreds of women starve, and hundreds more go down to a life of infamy. Cap-making (the great business of Water Street of New York) givesemployment to thousands of unfortunates. For embroidering caps, thewholesale dealer pays seven cents each; and for making up, three cents. Tomake a dozen a day, one must work for sixteen hours. The embroidering isdone in this wise: I received the cut cloth from the wholesale dealer;drew the pattern upon each cap; gave them, with three cents' worth ofsilk, to the embroiderer, who received three cents for her work; thenpressed and returned them; thus making one cent on each for myself. Byworking steadily for sixteen hours, a girl could embroider fifteen in aday. I gave out about six dozen daily; earning, like the rest, fifty centsa day: unless I chose to do the stamping and pressing at night, and toembroider a dozen during the day; in which case, I earned a dollar. 

One can live in this way for a little while, until health fails, or themerchant says that the work has come to an end. You will think thisterrible again. Oh, no! this is not terrible. The good men provide inanother way. They tell every woman of a prepossessing appearance, that itis wrong in her to work so hard; that many a man would be glad to care forher; and that many women live quite comfortably with the help of _afriend_. They say, further, that it is lonely to live without ever goingto church, to the concert and theatre; and that if these women would onlypermit the speakers to visit them, and to attend them to any of theseplaces, they would soon find that they would no longer be obliged to workso hard. This is the polished talk of gentlemen who enjoy the reputationof piety and respectability, and who think it a bad speculation to paywomen liberally for their work. So it would be, in truth; for these poorcreatures would not be so willing to abandon themselves to a disreputablelife, if they could procure bread in any other way. 

During the summer of 1854, I took work on commission from men of thissort. While in Berlin I had learned from the prostitutes in the hospitalin what manner educated women often became what they then were. Theaverage story was always the same. The purest love made them weak; theirlover deceived and deserted them; their family cast them off by way ofpunishment. In their disgrace, they went to bury themselves in largecities, where the work that they could find scarcely gave them their dailybread. Their employers attracted by their personal appearance and therefinement of their speech and manners, offered them assistance in anotherway, in which they could earn money without work. In despair, theyaccepted the proposals; and sunk gradually, step by step, to the depths ofdegradation, as depicted by Hogarth in the "Harlot's Progress. " In NewYork, I was thrown continually among men who were of the stamp that Idescribed before; and can say, even from my own experience, that no man isever more polite, more friendly, or more kind, than one who has impurewishes in his heart. It is really so dangerous for a woman of refinednature to go to such stores, that I never suffered my sister to visitthem; not because I feared that she would listen to these men, but becauseI could not endure the thought that so innocent and beautiful a girlshould come in contact with them, or even breathe the same atmosphere. When fathers are unwilling that their daughters shall enter life asphysicians, lawyers, merchants, or in any other public capacity, it issimply because they belong to the class that so contaminates the air, that none can breathe it but themselves; or because, from being thrownconstantly in contact with such men, they arrive at the same point atwhich I then stood, and say to themselves "_I_ can afford to meet suchmen. I am steeled by my knowledge of mankind, and supported by thephilosophy that I have learned during years of trial. It cannot hurt _me_;but, by all means, spare the young and beautiful the same experience!"

I dealt somewhat haughtily with the merchants whom I have described, in amanner that at once convinced them of my position. But the consequencewas, that the embroidery commission, which had commenced so favorably, suddenly ceased, "_because the Southern trade had failed_:" in truth, because I would not allow any of these men to say any more to me than wasabsolutely necessary in our business. My income became less and less, andwe were forced to live upon the money that we had laid up during the year. I did not look for any new sources of employment, for I was intending togo to Cleveland in October; while my next sister had business of her own, and Anna was engaged to be married to our friend Mr. C. My brother wasalso with them; and my mother's brother, whom she had adopted as a child, was on his way to America. 

After having settled our affairs, fifty dollars remained as my share; and, with this sum, I set out for Cleveland on the 16th of October, 1854. Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell had supplied me with the necessary medical text-books;so that I had no other expenses than my journey and the matriculationfees, which together amounted to twenty dollars, leaving thirty dollars inmy possession. 

I do not believe that many begin the study of medicine with so light apurse and so heavy a heart as did I. My heart was heavy for the reasonthat I did not know a single sentence of English. All of my study with Dr. Blackwell had been like raindrops falling upon stone: I had profitednothing. The lectures I did not care for, since there was more need of mystudying English than medicine: but the subjects were well known to me;and I therefore reasoned, that, by hearing familiar things treated of inEnglish, I must learn the language; and the logic held good. 

I have already told you that the Faculty had agreed to give me credit formy lecture-fees. Dr. Blackwell had written also to a lady there, who hadcalled upon her some time before in the capacity of President of aPhysiological Society, which, among other good things, had established asmall fund for the assistance of women desirous of studying medicine. Thislady (Mrs. Caroline M. Severance) replied in the most friendly manner, saying that I might come directly to her house, and that she would seethat my board for the winter was secured by the Physiological Society overwhich she presided. 

The journey to Cleveland was a silent but a pleasant one. Through amishap, I arrived on Saturday night, instead of in the morning; and, beingunwilling to disturb Mrs. Severance at so late an hour, went first to ahotel. But what trials I had there! No one could understand me; until atlast I wrote on a slate my own name and Mrs. Severance's, with the words, "A carriage, " and "To-morrow. " From this the people inferred that I wishedto stay at the hotel all night, and to have a carriage to take me to Mrs. Severance's the next day; as was the case. A waiter took my carpet-bag andconducted me to a room. I could not understand his directions to thesupper-room, neither could I make him understand that I wanted some supperin my own room; and the consequence was, that I went to bed hungry, havingeaten nothing all day but a little bread, and an apple for luncheon. 

As soon as I was dressed the next morning, I rang the bell furiously; and, on the appearance of the waiter, exclaimed, "Beefsteak!" This time hecomprehended me, and went laughingly away to bring me a good breakfast. Ioften saw the same waiter afterwards at the hotel; and he never saw mewithout laughing, and exclaiming, "Beefsteak!"

In the course of the forenoon, I was taken in a carriage to the house ofMrs. Severance; but the family were not at home. I returned to the hotel, somewhat disheartened and disappointed. Although I should have supposedthat death was not far off if no disappointment had happened to me when Ileast expected it, yet this persistent going wrong of every thing inCleveland was really rather dispiriting. But a bright star soon brokethrough the clouds, in the shape of Mr. Severance, who came into theparlor directly after dinner, calling for me in so easy and so cordial amanner, that I forgot every thing, and was perfectly happy. This feeling, however, lasted only until I reached the house. I found four finechildren, all full of childish curiosity to hear me talk; who, as soon asthey found that I could not make myself understood by them, looked on mewith that sort of contempt peculiar to children when they discover that aperson cannot do as much as they can themselves. Mr. Severance, too, wasexpecting to find me accomplished in music, "like all Germans;" and had tolearn that I had neither voice nor ear for the art. Mrs. Severanceunderstood a little German, yet not half enough to gain any idea of howmuch or how little I was capable of doing; and therefore looked upon mewith a sort of uncertainty as to what was my real capacity. This positionwas more provoking than painful; there was even something ludicrous in it:and, when not annoyed, I often went into my room to indulge in a heartylaugh by myself. 

I met with a most cordial reception in the college The dean (Dr. John J. Delamater) received me like a father; and, on the first day, I feltperfectly at home. All was going on well. I had a home at Mrs. Severance's; while, despite my mutilated English, I found many friends inthe college, when circumstances changed every thing. Some changes occurredin Mr. Severance's business; and he was forced, in consequence, to give uphouse-keeping At that time, I did not know that the Physiological Societywas ready to lend me money; and was therefore in great distress. I neverexperienced so bitter a day as that on which Mrs. Severance told me that Icould stay with her no longer. It was but five weeks after my arrival, andI was not able to make myself understood in the English language, whichwas like chaos to me. On the same day, I well remember, that, for thefirst time in my life, I made an unsuccessful attempt to borrow money;and, because it was the first and the last time, it was the more painfulto me to be refused. I envied the dog that lived, and was happy withouttroubling his brain; I envied the kitchen-maid that did her workmechanically, and enjoyed life far more than those fitted by nature forsomething higher, while the world would go on just as well without them aswith them. 

Mrs. Severance secured a boarding-place for me for the rest of the winter;and paid my board, amounting to thirty-three dollars, from the funds ofthe society. I lived quietly by myself; studied six hours daily at home, with four dictionaries by me; attending six lectures a day, and going inthe evening for three hours to the dissecting-rooms. I never conversedwith any one in the boarding-house nor even asked for any thing at thetable; but was supplied like a mute. This silence was fruitful to me. About New Year, I ventured to make my English audible; when, lo! every oneunderstood me perfectly. From this time forward, I sought to makeacquaintances, to the especial delight of good old Dr. Delamater, who hadfirmly believed that I was committing gradual suicide. Through Mrs. Severance, I became acquainted with Dr. Harriot K. Hunt, who was then on avisit to Cleveland; and, through her, with the Rev. A. D. Mayo, who waspastor of a small society there, known as that of the Liberal Christians. 

I found many dear and valued friends during my residence in Cleveland, butnone to whom I am bound in lasting gratitude as to Mr. Mayo, who offeredme his assistance when he learned that I was in need; my extra expenseshaving swallowed up the little money that I had brought with me, so that Ihad not even enough to return to my sisters in New York. As the ministerof a small congregation advocating Liberal ideas, he had a hard positionin Cleveland, both socially and pecuniarily; yet he offered to share hislittle with me. I was forced to accept it; and I am now, and have alwaysbeen, glad that I did so. No one, that has not had the experience, canappreciate the happiness that comes with the feeling, that a rich man hasnot cast a fragment of his superfluity towards you (and here let meremark, that it is next to impossible to find wealth and generosity gotogether in friendship), but that the help comes from one who must work forit as well as the recipient. It proves the existence of the mutualappreciation that is known by the name of "friendship. " The apple given bya friend is worth ten times more than a whole orchard bestowed in such away as to make you feel that the gift is but the superfluity of the donor. 

I remained for ten months a member of Mr. Mayo's family; when he receiveda call to Albany, and changes had to be made in his household. During thistime, I earned a little money by giving lessons in German, that served tocover my most necessary expenses. For the last five months that I spent inCleveland, I carried in my purse one solitary cent as a sort of talisman;firmly believing that some day it would turn into gold: but this did nothappen; and on the day that I was expecting the receipt of the lasteighteen dollars for my lessons, which were designed to bear my expensesto New York, I gave it to a poor woman in the street who begged me for acent; and it doubtless, ere long, found its way into a gin-shop. 

The twenty months that I spent in Cleveland were chiefly devoted to thestudy of medicine in the English language; and in this I was assisted bymost noble-hearted men. Dr. Delamater's office became a pleasant spot, andits occupants a necessity to me; and, on the days that I did not meetthem, my spirits fell below zero. In spite of the pecuniary distress fromwhich I constantly suffered, I was happier in Cleveland than ever beforeor since. I lived in my element; having a fixed purpose in view, andenjoying the warmest tokens of real friendship. I was liked in thecollege; and, though the students often found it impossible to repress ahearty laugh at my ridiculous blunders in English, they always showed merespect and fellowship in the highest sense of the terms. In the beginningof the first winter, I was the only woman; after the first month, anotherwas admitted; and, during the second winter, there were three besidesmyself that attended the lectures and graduated in the spring. I shouldcertainly look upon this season as the spring-time of my life, had not asad event thrown a gloom over the whole. 

In the autumn of 1854, after deciding to go to Cleveland to resume mymedical studies, I wrote to my parents to tell them of my hopes and aims. These letters were not received with the same pleasure with which theyhad been written. My father, who had encouraged me before my entrance upona public career, was not only grieved by my return to my old mode of life, but greatly opposed to it, and manifested this in the strongest words inthe next letter that I received from him. My mother on the contrary, whohad not been at all enthusiastic in the beginning, was rather glad toreceive the news. As I had left many good friends among the physicians ofBerlin, my letters were always circulated, after their arrival, by one oftheir number who stood high in the profession; and, though I did notreceive my father's approbation, he sent me several letters from strangerswho approved my conduct, and who, after hearing my letters, had sent himcongratulations upon my doings in America. How he received the respectthus manifested to him, you can judge from a passage in one of hisletters, which I will quote to you:--

"I am proud of you, my daughter; yet you give me more grief than any otherof my children. If you were a young man, I could not find words in whichto express my satisfaction and pride in respect to your acts; for I knowthat all you accomplish you owe to yourself: but you are a woman, a weakwoman; and all that I can do for you now is to grieve and to weep. O mydaughter! return from this unhappy path. Believe me, the temptation ofliving for humanity _en masse, _ magnificent as it may appear in its aim, will lead you only to learn that all is vanity; while the ingratitude ofthe mass for whom you choose to work will be your compensation. "

Letters of this sort poured upon me; and, when my father learned thatneither his reasoning nor his prayers could turn me from a work which Ihad begun with such enthusiasm, he began to threaten; telling me that Imust not expect any pecuniary assistance from him; that I would contractdebts in Cleveland which I should never be able to pay, and which wouldcertainly undermine my prospects; with more of this sort. My good fatherdid not know that I had vowed to myself, on my arrival in America, that Iwould never ask his aid; and besides, he never imagined that I could gofor five months with a single cent in my pocket. Oh, how small all thesedifficulties appeared to me, especially at a time when I began to speakEnglish! I felt so rich, that I never thought money could not be had, whenever I wanted it in good earnest. 

After having been nine months in Cleveland, I received news that mymother had left Berlin with my two youngest sisters to pay us a visit, andto see what the prospects would be for my father in case she chose toremain. Dear Mary, shall I attempt to describe to you the feeling thatover-powered me on the receipt of these tidings? If I did, you never couldfeel it with me: for I could not picture in words the joy that I felt atthe prospect of beholding again the mother whom I loved beyond allexpression, and who was my friend besides; for we really never thought ofeach other in our relation of mother and child, but as two who were boundtogether as friends in thought and in feeling. No: I cannot give you adescription of this, especially as it was mingled with the fear that Imight not have the means to go to greet her in New York before another tenmonths were over. Day and night, night and day, she was in my mind; and, from the time that I had a right to expect her arrival, I counted thehours from morning until noon, and from noon until night, when thetelegraph office would be closed. At length, on the 18th of September, thedespatch came, --not to me, but to my friend Mr. Mayo, --bearing the words, "Tell Marie that she must calmly and quietly receive the news that ourgood mother sleeps at the bottom of the ocean, which serves as hermonument and her grave. " Mary, this is the most trying passage that I haveto write in this sketch of my life; and you must not think me weak thattears blot the words as I write. My mother fell a victim to sea-sicknesswhich brought on a violent hemorrhage, that exhausted the sources of life. She died three weeks before the vessel reached the port; and my twosisters (the one seventeen and the other nine years of age) chose ratherto have her lowered on the Banks of Newfoundland, than bring to us acorpse instead of the living. They were right; and the great ocean seemsto me her fitting monument. 

Of course, upon the receipt of these tidings, I could remain no longer inCleveland, but took my last money, and went to New York to stay for awhile with my afflicted brother and sisters. The journey was verybeneficial to me; for, without it, I should not have been able to gothrough my winter's study. During my stay in New York, I often visited Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell, and learned that the little dispensary was closedbecause her practice prevented her from attending it regularly; but that, during my absence, she had been trying to interest some wealthy friendsin the collection of money, to enable us, after my return in the spring, to commence again upon a little larger scale. To effect this, she proposedto hold a fair during the winter after my return; and we concluded thatthe first meeting for this purpose should be held during my visit in NewYork. She succeeded in calling together a few friends at her house, whodetermined to form a nucleus for a Fair Association for the purpose ofraising money for the New-York Infirmary. 

I made a visit of a few days to Boston, and then returned again toCleveland. The winter passed in very much the same manner as the first, with the difference that I spoke better English, and visited many friendswhom I had made during the preceding year. In the spring of 1856, Igraduated. Shortly after commencement, the Dean of the College (Dr. Delamater) called upon me at the house of a friend with whom I was stayingon a visit. A call from this venerable gentleman was a thing so unusual, that numberless conjectures as to what this visit might mean flittedthrough my brain on my way to the parlor. He received me, as usual, paternally; wished me a thousand blessings; and handed back to me the notefor one hundred and twenty dollars, payable in two years, which I hadgiven for the lecture-fees; telling me, that, in the meeting of theFaculty after graduating-day it was proposed by one of the professors toreturn the note to me as a gift; to which those present cheerfully gave aunanimous vote, adding their wishes for my success, and appointing Dr. Delamater as their delegate to inform me of the proceedings. This was aglorious beginning, for which I am more than thankful, and for which I wasespecially so at that time, when I had barely money enough to return toNew York, with very small prospects of getting means wherewith to commencepractice. The mention of this fact might be thought indiscreet by theFaculty in Cleveland, were they still so organized as to admit women;which, I am sorry to say, is no longer the case; though they give as theirreason, that women at present have their own medical colleges, and, consequently, have no longer need of theirs. 

Before I quit the subject of the Cleveland College I must mention a fact, which may serve as an argument against the belief that the sexes cannotstudy together without exerting an injurious effect upon each other. During the last winter of my study, there was such emulation in respect tothe graduating honors among the candidates for graduation comprisingthirty-eight male and four female students, that all studied more closelythan they had ever done before--the men not wishing to be excelled by thewomen, nor the women by the men; and one of the professors afterwards toldme, that whereas it was usually a difficult thing to decide upon the threebest theses to be read publicly at the commencement, since all were moreor less indifferently written, this year the theses were all so good, thatit was necessary, to avoid doing absolute injustice, to select thirteenfrom which parts should be read. Does not this prove that the stimulus ofthe one sex upon the other would act rather favorably than otherwise uponthe profession? and would not the very best tonic that could be given tothe individual be to pique his _amour propre_ by the danger of beingexcelled by one of the opposite sex? Is not this natural? and would notthis be the best and the surest reformation of humanity and its socialcondition, if left free to work out its own development?

On the day following the visit of Dr. Delamater, I received a letter frommy brother-in-law, in which he told me that his business compelled him togo to Europe for half a year; and that he had, therefore, madearrangements for me to procure money, in case that I should need it tocommence my practice. He said that he intended to assist me afterwards;but that, as he thought it best for my sister (his wife) to live out ofNew York during his absence, he was willing to lend me as much money as Irequired until his return. I accepted his offer with infinite pleasure;for it was another instance of real friendship. He was by no means a richman, but was simply in the employ of a large importing house. 

With these prospects I left Cleveland. Immediately after my arrival in NewYork, I began to look out for a suitable office; consulting Dr. ElizabethBlackwell, with whom I had maintained a constant correspondence, in regardto location. I soon found that I could not obtain a respectable roomwithout paying an exorbitant price. Some were afraid to let an office to afemale physician, lest she might turn out a spiritual medium, clairvoyanthydropathist, &c. ; others, who believed me when I told them that I had adiploma from a regular school, and should never practise contrary to itsrequirements, inquired to what religious denomination I belonged, andwhether I had a private fortune, or intended to support myself by mypractice; while the third class, who asked no questions at all, demandedthree dollars a day for a back parlor alone, without the privilege ofputting a sign on the house or the door. Now, all this may be veryaggravating, when it is absolutely necessary that one should have a placeupon which to put a sign to let the world know that she is ready to tryher skill upon suffering humanity; but it has such a strongly ludicrousside, that I could not be provoked, in spite of all the fatigue anddisappointment of wandering over the city, when, with aching limbs, Icommenced the search afresh each morning, with the same prospect ofsuccess. I finally gave up looking for a room, and accepted Dr. ElizabethBlackwell's offer; to occupy her back parlor (the front one serving as herown office); of which I took possession on the 17th of April. 

Meanwhile, I had regularly attended the Thursday fair-meetings; wonderinghow persons could afford to meet to so little purpose. There was scarcelyany life in these gatherings; and, when I saw ladies come week after weekto resume the knitting of a baby's stocking (which was always laid asideagain in an hour or two, without any marked progress), I began to doubtwhether the sale of these articles would ever bring ten thousand cents, instead of the ten thousand dollars which it was proposed at the firstmeeting to raise in order to buy a house. I used to say on Wednesday, "To-morrow we have our fair-meeting. I wonder whether there will be, asusual, two and a half persons present, or three and three-quarters. "

I grew at length heartily sick of this kind of effort, and set aboutspeculating what better could be done. The idea occurred to me to go fromhouse to house, and ask for a dime at each, which, if given, would amountto ten dollars a day; and, with the money thus collected daily for half ayear, to establish a nucleus hospital, which, as a fixed fact, shouldstimulate its friends to further assistance. 

I took my note-book, and wrote out the whole plan, and also calculated theexpenses of such a miniature hospital as I proposed; including furniturebeds, household utensils; every thing, in short, that was necessary insuch an institution. With this book, which I still have in my possession, I went one evening into Dr. Blackwell's parlor, and, seating myself, toldher that _I_ could not work any longer for the fair in the way that theladies were doing; and then read my plan to her, which I advocated longand earnestly. She finally agreed with me that it would be betterspeedily to establish a small hospital than to wait for the large sum thathad been proposed; though she did not approve of the scheme of the dimecollection, fearing that I would not only meet with great annoyances, butwould also injure my health in the effort. At that time, after somediscussion, I agreed with her: now I think that this plan would have beenbetter than that which I afterwards followed. On the same evening, Iproposed, and we agreed, that, on a year from that day (the 1st of May, 1857), the New-York Infirmary should be opened. 

I went to rest with a light heart, but rose sorrowfully in the morning. "In one year from to-day, the Infirmary must be opened, " said I to myself;"and the funds towards it are two pairs of half-knit babies' stockings. "The day was passed in thinking what was the next best scheme to raisemoney for its foundation. At length I remembered my visit to Boston, andsome friends there whose influence might help me _to beg_ for an_institution for American women_. For myself I could never have begged; Iwould sooner have drowned myself: now I determined to beg money fromAmericans to establish an institution for their own benefit. This plan wasdisclosed to Dr. Blackwell, and agreed upon, as there was nothing riskedin it; I taking the whole responsibility. 

On the next day, the fair-meeting was held at Dr. Blackwell's. The newplan was brought forward; and, although it was as yet nothing but a plan, it acted like a warm, soft rain upon a field after a long drought. Theknitting and sewing (for which I have a private horror under allconditions) were laid aside, to my great relief; and the project wastalked of with so much enthusiasm, that I already saw myself inimagination making my evening visits to the patients in the New-YorkInfirmary; while all the members present (and there were unusually many; Ithink, six or seven) discussed the question the next day among theircircles of friends, whether Henry Ward Beecher or a physician of highstanding should make the opening speech in the institution. 

This excitement increased the interest exceedingly and the succeedingmeetings were quite enthusiastic. The babies' stockings were never againresumed (don't think that, because I detested those stockings so much, Iam cruel enough to wish the little creatures to go barefoot); but planswere made for raising money in New York, and for getting articles for saleon a larger scale. Dr. Blackwell wrote to her sister. Dr. EmilyBlackwell, who was at that time studying in England, requesting her tomake collections among their friends in that country; which she did withsuccess. 

After having thus thoroughly impressed the public mind with the idea thatthe Infirmary must be opened, we began to look about for a suitable house. In autumn, I went to Boston to see what aid could be obtained there. Icannot tell you here in what manner I became acquainted with a circle ofnoble women, who had both means and the disposition to employ them forsuch a purpose: it suffices to say, that I interested them in theundertaking and obtained a hundred dollars towards the expenses of thefair, together with a promise of a large table of fancy-goods, and aninvitation to come again in case any further aid was needed. At the end ofthree weeks, I left Boston for Philadelphia; but here I was notsuccessful, as all who were interested in the medical education of womencontributed largely already to the Philadelphia College. A small table offancy-goods was the result of my visit there. The money and promise ofgoods that I received in Boston stimulated our friends in New York to sucha degree, that, in spite of Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell's doubts as to whetherwe should cover the expenses, the fair realized a thousand dollars. Yetthis was not half sufficient to commence the proposed hospital; and Itherefore proposed to Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell that I should go on anotherbegging tour through New England, while she and her sister (Dr. EmilyBlackwell, who had arrived from England a week before the fair) shouldarrange matters in New York, where they had more acquaintances than I. Iwent for the second time to Boston in February, and met with unexpectedsuccess; bringing back about six hundred dollars in cash, with promises ofa like sum for the ensuing two years. I had represented our scheme as athree-years' experiment In the mean time, the Drs. Blackwell had hired alarge, old-fashioned house, No. 64, Bleeker Street, which we had looked attogether, and which was very well suited to our purpose, devoting the restof their time chiefly to endeavors to interest the Legislature in ourenterprise; the result of which was, that, though nothing was granted usthat spring, the next winter, when we could show our institution inoperation, the usual dispensary grant was extended to us. 

On the 3d of April, I returned from Boston, and almost immediately went towork with some of our lady-managers to order beds and to furnish thehouse and dispensary, and also to superintend the internal changes. Afterfive weeks of hard work, I had the pleasure, on the 15th of May, 1857, oflistening in the wards of the New-York Infirmary to the opening speechesdelivered by the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, Dr. Elder, and Rev. Dudley Tyng. 

A few days afterwards, I admitted the first house-patient and opened thedispensary, which I attended two days in the week; Drs. Elizabeth andEmily Blackwell taking charge of it for the remaining four days. I hadoffered two years' gratuitous services as my contribution to theInfirmary, remaining there not only as resident physician, but also assuperintendent of the household and general manager; and attending to myprivate practice during the afternoon. The institution grew rapidly, andthe number of dispensary patients increased to such an extent, that thetime from seven in the morning until one in the afternoon was whollyoccupied in the examination of cases. In the second year of the existenceof the Infirmary the state of Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell's health compelledher to go to Europe: and for nine months Dr. Emily Blackwell and I tookcharge of the business, which at this time was considerable; theattendance at the dispensary averaging sixty daily. 

During the course of this year, I received letters from some of theTrustees of the New-England Female Medical College in Boston, inquiringwhether I were inclined to take charge of a hospital in connection withthat institution. A consultation on the subject with Drs. Elizabeth andEmily Blackwell seemed to prove to us, that by doing this, and helping thecollege to attain its objects, we could probably best aid the cause of themedical education of women. After hesitating for a long time what courseto pursue, I went to Boston in the spring of 1859, in order to define in apublic address my views and position in respect to the study of medicine. I found so great a desire prevailing for the elevation of the institutionto the standard of the male medical colleges, and such enthusiasm inrespect to the proposed hospital, that I concluded at once to leave theInfirmary; Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell's absence having proved that it couldbe sustained by two, not only without loss, but with a steady increase, secured by the good done by its existence. Having fulfilled my promise oftwo years to the institution, on the 5th of June, 1859, I left forBoston, where I am now striving to make the hospital-department as usefulas the New-York Infirmary is to the public and the students. 

Now, my dear Mary, you may think me very long in my story, especially inthe latter part, of which you know much already; but I could not refrainfrom writing fully of this part of my life, which has been the object ofall my undertakings, and for which I have borne trials and overcomedifficulties which would have crushed nine out of ten in my position. I donot expect that this will be the end of my usefulness; but I do expectthat I shall not have to write to you any more of my doings. It was simplyin order that you, my friend, should understand me fully, and because youhave so often expressed a wish to know my life before we met, that Ifinished this work. Now you have me externally and internally, past andpresent: and although there have been many influences besides which havemade their impressions on my peculiar development, yet they are not of anature to be spoken of as facts; as, for instance, your friendship for me. 

On looking back upon my past life, I may say that I am like a fine ship, that, launched upon high seas, is tossed about by the winds and waves, and steered against contrary currents, until finally stranded upon theshore, where, from the materials, a small boat is built, just strongenough to reach the port into which it had expected to enter with proudlyswelling sails. But this ambition is entirely gone; and I care now verylittle whether the people recognize what is in me or not, so long as theobject for which I have lived becomes a reality. 

And now, my good friend, I must add one wish before I send these last fewpages to you; namely, that I may be enabled some day to go with you toBerlin, to show you the scenes in which my childhood and youth werepassed, and to teach you on the spot the difference between Europe andAmerica. All other inducements to return have vanished. The death of myfather during the last year severed the last tie that bound me to mynative place. Nearly all the men who aided in promoting my wishes havepassed away; and the only stimulus that now remains to revisit the home ofmy youth is the wish to wander about there with you, and perhaps two orthree other of my American friends. Until this can be accomplished, I hopeto continue my present work in the New-England Female Medical College, which, though by no means yet what we wish it to be, is deserving ofevery effort to raise it to the stand that it ought to take among themedical institutions of America. 

Yours with love, Marie E. Zakrzewska. Boston, September, 1859. 

 * * * * *

The sweet, pure song has ended. Happy she who has been permitted to setits clear, strong notes to music. I need not murmur that my own oldhand-organ grows useless, since it has been permitted to grind out the_key_. Yet Marie's story is told so modestly, and with so much personalreserve, that, for the sake of the women whom we are both striving tohelp, I must be forgiven for directing the public attention to a few ofits points. 

In all respects, the "little blind doctor" of the story is the MarieZakrzewska that we know. The early anecdotes give us the poeticimpressibility and the enduring muscular fibre, that make themselves feltthrough the lively, facile nature. The voice that ordered the fetterstaken off of crazy Jacob is the voice we still hear in the wards of thehospital. But that poetic impressibility did not run wild with crazyfancies when she was left to sleep on the floor of the dead-house: thesame strong sense controlled it that started the "tassel manufactory" inNew York, where it had been meant to open a physician's office. Onlythirteen years old when she left school, she had but little aid beside a_steady purpose_ in preparing for her career. We hear of her slatternlyhabits; but who would ever guess them, who remembers the quiet, tastefuldress of later years?

How free from all egotism is the record! The brain-fever which followedher attendance on her two aunts is mentioned as quietly as if it were asprained foot. Who of us but can see the wearing-away of nervous energywhich took place with the perpetual care of a cancer and a somnambulistpressed also by the hard reading suggested by Dr. Arthur Lütze? Berlineducated the second La Chapelle; but it was for America, not Germany. Thedreadful tragedy of Dr. Schmidt's death is hardly dwelt upon long enoughto show its full effects, so fearful is our friend of intruding a personalmatter. 

When "Woman's Right to Labor" was printed, many persons expressed theirregret that so little was said about sin and destitution in Boston itself;and many refused to believe that every pit-fall and snare open in the OldWorld gaped as widely here. "You have only the testimony of the girlsthemselves, " they would reply, when I privately told them what I had notthought it wise to print. I have never regretted yielding to the motiveswhich decided me to withhold much that I knew. "If they believe not Mosesand the prophets, neither would they believe though one rose from thedead, " said, of old, the divine voice; and the hearts that were nottouched by what I thought it fit to tell would never have been stirred toenergy by fuller revelations. 

In these pages, authenticated by a pure and cultivated woman, who holds ahigh position among us, every fact at which I hinted is made plain; andhere no careless talker may challenge the record with impunity. Here, asin New York, smooth-faced men go on board the emigrant-ship, or thesteerage of the long-expected steamer; here, as there, they make friendlyoffers and tell plausible lies, which girls who have never walked thestreets of Berlin at night, nor seen the occupants of a hospital-ward atthe Charité, can hardly be expected to estimate at their just worth. Thestories which I have told of unknown sufferers are here repeated. Thegrand-daughter of Krummacher marries a poor shoemaker to save herself fromvice, and poor German Mary drowns herself in the Hudson because she feelsherself a burden on a heartless brother. Better far to sink beneath itswaves than beneath the more remorseless flood which sweeps over all greatcities. Now, when the story of the Water-street cap-makers is told, to bematched by many another in Boston itself, it is no longer some ignorant, half-trained stranger who tells the story, but the capable, skilled woman, who, educated for better things, made tassels and coiffures, and acceptedcommissions in embroidery, till the merchants were convinced that here, indeed, was a woman without reproach. Water-street merchants would do wellto remember hereafter that the possibilities of a Zakrzewska lie hidden inevery oppressed girl, and govern themselves accordingly. Think of thisaccomplished woman, able to earn no more than thirty-six cents a day, --aday sixteen hours long, which finished a dozen caps at three cents each!What, then, must become of clumsy and inferior work-women? Think of itlong and patiently, till you come to see, as she bids you, the truerelation between the idleness of women and money in the Fifth Avenue andthe hunted squalor of women without money at the Five Points. Women ofBoston, the parallel stands good for you. Listen, and you may hear thedull murmur of your own "Black Sea, " as it surges against your gateway. 

Hasten to save those whom it has not yet overwhelmed Believe me that manyof them are as pure and good as the babes whom you cradle in cambric andlace. If you will not save them, neither shall you save your own belovedones from the current which undermines like a "back-water" your costliestchurches, your most sacred homes. 

Caroline H. Dall. Oct. 29, 1860. 

L'Envoi. 

"Unbarred be all your gates, and opened wide, Till she who honors women shall come in!"

Dante: Sonnet xx. 

Footnotes

[1] Pronounced Zak-shef-ska. 

[2] "The undersigned, Secretary of Legation of the United States ofAmerica, certifies that Miss Marie Elizabeth Zakrzewska has exhibited tohim very strong recommendations from the highest professional authoritiesof Prussia, as a scientific, practical, experienced _accoucheuse_ ofunusual talent and skill. She has been chief _accoucheuse_ in the RoyalHospital of Berlin, and possesses a certificate of her superiority fromthe Board of Directors of that institution. She has not only manifestedgreat talent as a practitioner, but also as a teacher; and enjoys theadvantage of a moral and irreproachable private character. She hasattained this high rank over many female competitors in the same branch;there being more than fifty[A] in the city of Berlin who threaten, bytheir acknowledged excellence, to monopolize the obstetric art. "

Theo. S. Fay. 

"Legation United States, Berlin, Jan. 26, 1853. "

[SEAL. ]

 [A] "Upon inquiry, I find that, instead of fifty, there are one hundred and ten female _accoucheuses_ in Berlin. 

 "THEO. S. FAY. "

[3] Here I have to remark, that, not being able to speak English, Iconducted my business at the different stores either in German or French, as I easily found some of the _employées_ who could speak one of theselanguages.