The strong, fine-looking man threw an affectionate glance at her.

"Indeed! let me entreat forgiveness, then. One of my experiments was unsuccessful, and I was obliged to repeat it. That is why I am late!"

"I suppose, then, you have been torturing some unfortunate dog or rabbit," said Angelika in a tone of distress. "Poor thing!"

"For shame, Angelika!" said her brother. "Those are not words for the sister of a physiologist,--a woman who ought to understand the object of science."

Angelika made no reply, but observed, well pleased, how tenderly Johannes stroked Hector, who came to greet his master.

The door was flung violently open, and in rushed, in a great hurry, Angelika's husband, Moritz Kern, Clinical Professor and practising physician. His figure was not tall, but muscular,--his eyes were black and sparkling, his features sharply cut, and his stiff black hair close cropped around his head. "Morning, morning," he cried, quite out of breath, but in high good humour, as he threw his hat and gloves upon a table and himself into a chair. "Excuse me for my tardiness. Ah, my dear,--kiss your hand,--love me? Yes? Not seen you since morning.

Walter with you? No? Was he good?"

"Yes, indeed," said Angelika, who stood beside her boisterous husband like a rose upon a th.o.r.n.y stem; "but he fell off his rocking-horse and has got a great bruise."

"Good, good,--harden him," he replied smiling. He looked for an instant into Angelika's blue eyes, and the fire of his glance must have penetrated her heart, for her fair brow flushed and her eyelids drooped like those of a girl upon the day of her betrothal.

"Come, Moritz, you can make love to your wife another time," cried Johannes; "it is late,--we must come to business. What detained you?"

"My dear friend, I couldn't help it. I had a girl at the clinic that gave me no end of trouble. Old trouble with the heart,--acute inflammation,--stoppage in the arteries of the left foot,--mortification,--the leg must come off to-day."

"A splendid case!" said Helm approvingly.

"Heavens! what savages you are, to call that a splendid case!" said Angelika horrified.

"My angel, if you choose to a.s.sist at a council of rude men, you must not start at such innocent technical terminology," said her husband, enjoying Angelika's pretty dismay.

"Yes, I too have been scolding her for sympathizing with the victims of my experiments," said Mollner.

"You were wrong to blame her. I like to have her compa.s.sionate.

Continue to weep for the poor dogs, my child, and the yet more unfortunate frogs. What have you to do with the reasons for torturing them? I do not want you to imbibe any flavour of science from your husband or brother. I like you just as you are; you suit me precisely.

I will not have you otherwise."

"For heaven's sake, mamma, carry Angelika away!" cried Johannes laughing. "As long as this fellow has his wife by his side, there is nothing to be done with him!"

"She shall stay!" said Moritz decidedly. "There is nothing of importance to be done. The Hartwich woman asks to attend our lectures; why waste any thought upon such a fool? Don't answer her request at all, and be done with it!"

"Softly, softly, my young friend," cried old Heim very gravely, while Moritz, with Angelika's hand in his, swallowed a gla.s.s of wine. "First read this paper, which the girl sent to me, and which so enchained Mollner's attention when I gave it to him to-day after lecture that--I must betray him--it was the cause of his tardiness. The experiments were over long before he made his appearance!"

A slight flush overspread Johannes' face as he handed Moritz the paper.

The latter read the t.i.tle aloud--"_Reflex Motion in its Relation to Free Agency_."

"By Jove! a good idea, if it is her own!"

"It is her own--that I'll vouch for!" cried Heim with warmth.

"That must be both philosophically and physiologically interesting,"

said the philosopher Taun to Herbert, who coldly shrugged his shoulders.

"Let us see whether the article corresponds to the t.i.tle," muttered Moritz, turning over the leaves.

"Read us some of it aloud," said Heim; and Moritz selected, at random, and read: "According to my opinion, the want of external self-control proceeds from sluggishness of the inhibitory nerves in comparison with the activity of the motor nerves, for the effort to control one's self is certainly, in a degree, neither more nor less than a struggle for mastery between these two sets of nerves. If the irritation acting upon the one is stronger than the force of will which should excite the other to activity, the reflex motion will take place in spite of what is called 'best intentions,' whether the occasion be a start of alarm, a desire to yawn, laugh, or weep at unfitting times, a scream, an angry gesture, or even a blow bestowed upon the object whence proceeds the incitement to wrath."

Moritz paused, and said smiling, "She has forgotten a kiss, which is only a reflex motion under certain circ.u.mstances,--that is, when one does not wish to kiss, ought not to kiss, and yet cannot help it." And he drew his wife towards him, and kissed her. Angelika blushed deeply, and, rising, greatly embarra.s.sed, joined her mother, who sat quietly at work by the window. The gentlemen laughed, and Moritz looked after her with eyes full of tenderness.

"It certainly is strange that while the Hartwich has made due mention of the reflex motion of terror--a start; of pain--tears; of fatigue--a yawn; of anger--a blow, it does not seem to have occurred to her that there are reflex motions of tenderness, also," remarked young Hilsborn.

"Probably," said Moritz laughing, "she has had no opportunity for observing any such. I suppose that, like all blue-stockings, she is so ugly that no one has ever bestowed any tenderness upon her."

"She is certainly not ugly," said Johannes with warmth. "She might have admirers enough if she chose."

Moritz turned hastily round to Johannes, who sat almost behind him, and stared as if a new idea had suddenly occurred to him. "What the deuce, Johannes! do you know her? Oho! indeed! now I understand the interest that you take in her. Well, you can teach her to make good her omissions."

"I should really like to be present at such an interesting lesson!"

said Herbert.

"Laugh away," said Johannes calmly. "You may laugh at me as much as you please, but have the goodness, Moritz, to spare your jests as far as Fraulein Hartwich is concerned; and you too, friend Herbert. Pray heed what I say. We have nothing to do here with the personality of this girl; it is nothing to us. All we have to do is to pa.s.s judgment upon her intellectual capacity, and to accede or not to her request. Go on, Moritz!"

And Moritz read further: "Even the law, without knowing it, recognizes this physiological fact, for it punishes less severely a murder committed in the heat of pa.s.sion than one that is premeditated. And what is a murder committed in the heat of pa.s.sion, in reality, but a reflex motion in a broader sense? If this theory be correct, many a poor criminal may escape not only a violent death at the hangman's hands, but also the flames of the material h.e.l.l to which bigoted moralists have consigned him. Let us endeavour, therefore, to discover what relation these facts sustain to Free Agency. All that we can do to attain the self-control which is the germ of all the virtues is, from earliest childhood, to exercise the inhibitory nerves in the discharge of their functions. It is an undoubted fact that, from the beginning of life, the mind must learn to use as its tools the various organs of the body. We cannot understand the use of a tool to which we are unaccustomed as we can one that we have frequently handled. Thus it is with the mind and the nerves. Every nerve that is often called into activity by the mind is strengthened by exercise. For example: the sense of touch grows remarkably keen with blind people, who depend upon it as a subst.i.tute for eyesight. By continual exercise of the nerves of sensation in his finger-tips, the blind man achieves the greatest perfection in his sense of touch. 'Practice makes perfect,' we often hear said with regard to arts and occupations difficult of mastery. And what is this practice but the custom of the mind to exercise this or that nerve, bringing into play the required muscular activity,--the exercise of certain nerve-fibres? Are the inhibitory nerves alone not to be thus controlled? Certainly not! The mind can make them also implicitly obedient to its will, if it neglects no opportunity for exercising them,--and why should it not apply itself to this task with the same zeal that is expended upon the attainment of an art or handicraft? I, for example, was in the habit of screaming at the unexpected discharge of a pistol. I had a pistol discharged daily in my hearing, without warning, and in a short time I was able to suppress the scream. It may be urged that I had gradually become accustomed to the noise, and was no longer startled. But this was not the case. I was as much startled as ever, but I had taught the appropriate inhibitory nerve to cut off the reflex motion upon the larynx. I know that a subjective experience of this kind proves nothing objectively; but such a simple inference, I think, needs no proof. Here we come again to the boundary-line separating the physiological from the psychological, where free agency results from a material law, just as fragrance comes from the chalice of a flower. Only let us be sure that our nerves are but a key-board upon which, if we strike the right keys correctly, we shall produce the harmonious accord of our whole being, and, if we do not learn to do so, we are to be pitied or despised, according to the school in which the lesson is needed."

"And so on," said Moritz, turning over the leaves. "The rest can be easily imagined. Here is a special treatise upon the motor nerves,--it seems pretty fair,--and rather a long essay upon nervous excitement, but I think we have done our duty and read enough of the testimony. How shall we decide? Shall we carry out the joke, and admit a student in petticoats to the lectures and the dissecting-room?"

"Why not?" said Professor Taun with some humour. "We admit so many stupid lads, why not one woman?"

"My dear friend," old Heim began, "I do not think we have ever had many pupils more gifted than Fraulein Hartwich. And is not a talented woman better than a stupid man?"

"That is a question," remarked Herbert, riveting his sharp eyes upon Heim's honest face. "I do not believe that the most talented woman can accomplish what is possible, with diligence and perseverance, for a man of common ability. What aid can a woman lend to us, or to science? The aid of her labour only, for no woman possesses creative force. And the feminine capacity for labour is so weak, that it is hardly worth while to commit an absurdity for the sake of making it ours."

"An absurdity?" asked Heim.

"Yes, I should call it absurd to admit a woman among our students, to degrade science to a mere doll to amuse silly girls withal, until, finally, there would be an Areopagus erected, before which we should be expected to make our most profound bow, in every feminine tea-party.

There is compet.i.tion enough already, without increasing it by the admission among us of the other s.e.x."

"That sounds strange," said old Heim; "it looks almost as if you were afraid of the compet.i.tion which you so thoroughly despise. Why speak of compet.i.tion in science? Leave that narrow-minded word to trade, which is really confined within certain limits. In such a boundless and abstract domain as science, there is no place for personal envy and arrogance. Can there be any question of compet.i.tion when we are labouring for a cause which is to benefit the world? Whoever asks for other rewards than are contained in knowledge itself, is no priest of science. The true student exists for science, not science for him,--he rejoices in every fresh advance, no matter by whom it is made, for the honour of the cause that he serves is his own, and we can say truthfully, Each for all, and all for each. If, therefore, we are offered the labour of a pair of hands willing to share our pains, let us not reject them because they are the delicate hands of a woman, but accept them, and offer them a modest place, where they can achieve all that lies in their power."

"But," cried Moritz, "let such hands do for us what we cannot do for ourselves,--knit stockings, for instance,--instead of trying to a.s.sist in what we can easily accomplish without them."

"My dear young friend," said Heim smiling, "the temple of science is large, very large. I think neither we nor our posterity, however numerous they may be, will be able to complete it."

"I think, gentlemen," said the philosopher Taun, in his gentle, refined way, "that there are only two points of view from which the matter is to be considered. Either we must base our decision upon the intellectual capacity of the lady, and, if so, subject the paper before us to conscientious criticism; or we must determine, once for all, that no woman is to be admitted to our University,--in which case there will be no question whatever of capacity or incapacity. Let us, then, come to an agreement upon these points."

"That is true,--Taun is right," cried Heim. "I vote for the admission of women of genius, like this one."

"And I against it," rejoined Herbert; "for I contend that there are no women of genius!"

"For my part," said Taun, "I am not decidedly opposed to the admission of a woman among our hearers, and, if I were, the originality of Fraulein Hartwich's paper would have shaken my decision. I cannot judge of the value of the physiological part of it,--I must leave that to our friend Mollner; but the philosophical idea that is its basis I think extremely suggestive, and that is more than can be expected from one of the laity."

"I oppose the emanc.i.p.ation of women," cried Moritz, "princ.i.p.ally because I find the existing order of society quite rational, and will do nothing to disturb it."

"I vote for Fraulein Hartwich," said young Hilsborn. "It will not interfere with our social order to grant her request. She will not be followed by crowds of imitators, for the simple reason that her talent is extraordinary. I maintain that we have no right to deny any opportunity for development to such a talent because it is accidentally hidden in a woman's brain. A great mind requires strong nourishment, and it is cruel to withhold such from it out of mere envy, and condemn it to extinction among the commonplace occupations of women."