XIV. THE LORD ORDINARY’S JUDGMENT
“Did you advertise your lecture in the Lancet? I expect you will have a lot of blackguardly doctors there in consequence. Don’t have any libel cases, and don’t be hard on the students. They’re very bad, but they’re not so bad as the Professors.[102] I know you are very busy writing and so on, and that there would be plenty of copying for me to do if only I were at hand. Don’t you want me to bully and be bullied by?
How I wish I could be in the gallery to make faces at you and throw peas!”
Footnote 102:
As a matter of fact a number of students came—unasked—to serve as stewards.
An admirable and characteristic letter, this, from Miss Pechey. Was a bracing message of warning and sympathy to a senior and chum ever more tactfully and lightly delivered?
On April 25th, after some days in the country, S. J.-B. went to London and was met by Miss Du Pre and Miss M‘Laren, who “heard and finally polished up the lecture,” which was delivered the following day at St. George’s Hall in the presence of a large and curiously assorted audience. The Earl of Shaftesbury, who occupied the chair, was supported by Professor Lewis Campbell, Rev. Dr. Martineau, Mrs. Garrett Anderson, Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell, the Dowager Countess of Buchan, and other well- known folk, and among the general public were a number of girlhood’s friends, including Miss Ada Benson, Miss Miranda Hill, and many “modern women,”—with a sprinkling of Norfolk cousins. In the course of his
address the Chairman made a shrewd remark, of which time has proved the truth:
“The argument that women were not wanted in the medical profession struck him as very singular. He was old enough to remember when railways and electric telegraphs were not wanted for the simple reason that they were not known. When they became known and tried, we could not do without them, and in all probability it would be the same with reference to ladies in the medical profession.”
In many ways the lecture was a success, and it was largely quoted and referred to in the press; but, for the ordinary hearer, it was overloaded with statistics, and—with a view to that ever-possible action for libel—the lecturer kept herself too well in hand. It is amusing to find The Christian World hinting a regret that she “had not really worked herself up into a passion” in narrating the injustice and vexations to which she had been exposed.
On the other hand, Mrs. Priscilla Bright M‘Laren, an unbiassed expert, expressed the wish that the lecture should be delivered throughout the length and breadth of the land. The publication of a pamphlet, she said, would not have the same effect, because most people never have their sympathies thoroughly roused unless they come face to face with the person who has been persecuted. “If you could be seen and heard” she wrote, “you would produce a wonderful effect in favour of the cause you have at heart.”
S. J.-B. had serious thoughts of carrying out this suggestion, but—in the interests of her own health—one is glad to record that wiser counsels prevailed.
“Thank you very, very much, darling, for your telegram,” writes Mrs. Jex-Blake, the day after the lecture. “I thought if you knew how anxious I had been the last few hours, you would send one, but I did not at all expect it.”
“I have not known where to direct to keep adding my rejoicing at the many accounts of the success of your lecture. Well, I am very very glad for you and with you, and I pray things may somehow take a fresh start. How very nice of some medical students to come and officiate. I wish Professor Masson could have been there.”
“I am very glad to think of you as once more snug at home and I hope with less work in view and some anxieties abated.... I am very glad indeed you have given up going about lecturing.... Tom, too, thinks you very wise to give it up: he was struck with your looking so worn, and very vexed to see you so.”
It is interesting to note that S. J.-B. had taken an invalid friend home with her to recruit! At the same time she is writing to a protégée:
“I have seen Dr. Blackwell, and think she is rather disposed to give you the work.... I think you should go in your bonnet, and look sage, and not seem too eager for the work, and put a good price on yourself,—say £2 a week, or, oh, you would accept £40 for the 6 months, etc. And be very confident you can do it all, if she asks you to call on her.”
This is really the most worldly letter that S. J.-B. ever wrote!
* * * * *
In all these later happenings, one misses the name of Mrs. Butler, who had stood by S. J.-B. so enthusiastically in the day of small things. As a matter of fact, Mrs. Butler was now fully embarked on her own heroic campaign, and both Mrs. Garrett Anderson and S. J.-B. had failed to give her their support. Thinking differently from each other on many points, characterised indeed by a fundamentally different way of looking at life, the two medical women alike realized the complications of modern civilization too profoundly to add the stupendous question that occupied Mrs. Butler to a programme that was already involved and difficult enough. Mrs. Butler felt their attitude keenly, and it was evidently with mingled feelings that she received a letter from Miss Pechey about this time, asking the privilege of adding her name and that of Canon Butler to the ever-growing Committee.
“My dear Miss Pechey,” she writes, “You are welcome to use my own and my husband’s names if you think they will do your cause any good. We cannot conceive that they would, and, on that ground alone, we should be as glad that you should not use them. It had better be left to Miss Jex-Blake’s judgment.
“All the world knows that we are on opposite sides on one of the most vital questions of the day, and that the Medical ladies have no sympathy with the efforts being made to get rid of the scandal of a great State system of legalised Prostitution, and therefore it appears to Mr. Butler and me an inconsistency that our names should appear in any such adverse connexion, deeply as we desire the prosperity and success of the medical woman movement....”
“Dear Mrs. Butler,” writes S. J.-B. in reply,—“As Miss Pechey tells me that you leave me to decide whether or no to place on our Committee your name and Mr. Butler’s, I write to say that I shall most gladly avail myself of your permission so to use your names.
I am glad to say that our Committee is made up of over a thousand friends who not only differ widely on the point to which you refer, but among whom differences no doubt exist on almost every other question, social, political and religious.
As we cannot hope that even the most conscientious among us will always agree on matters of judgment, I am sure that the only wise rule is to keep each question distinct by itself, and to welcome for it the support of all who care for its success, whether or no they agree on other points.
With kind regards to Mr. Butler, believe me,
Yours truly, S. JEX-BLAKE.”
The breach was never quite healed. When people care more for great causes than for personal pleasure and satisfaction, the loss of a friend must sometimes be taken as part of the day’s work. Sunt lachrymae rerum.
Meanwhile the work of propaganda was going on steadily, and, as S. J.-B. had given up the idea of lecturing in the great towns, she proceeded, as the next best thing, to publish her lecture, in conjunction with her historical researches on the subject of Medical Women, in the form of a small volume.
Just as she was seeing this through the press, news came of the illness of her Mother, who was visiting the cousins at Bylaugh Park.
“June 17.
DARLING MOTHER,
I am very sorry to hear that you have had such an attack again. I should be really unhappy if I did not believe and trust in you that you would telegraph for me if you at all wished for me, or if you felt really seriously ill. Am I right in so trusting you?
I am sure they will take all the care they can of you, and I hope you will be good and wise enough to eat all you can, broth at first, and then as much meat and vegetables as possible—and lots of strawberries!—are they ripe yet at Bylaugh?
You know that I am doing Dispensary work now, and have several patients of all kinds to look after, but I envy the doctor that has my old lady instead of me.
If you decide against going to Wales, suppose you come up here straight from Norfolk, and we have a quiet month quite alone together?—somewhere in the Highlands—if I have to give up Brighton.
Of course I shall send you your own copy of my new book myself, but Miss Pechey will send any quantity more that you may order for giving away, etc.
How good of dear old Auntie to write!
Yours lovingly, SOPH.”
The illness, however, rapidly assumed a dangerous character, and S. J.- B. was telegraphed for next day.
“Luckily was up,” she says [she had been ill herself], “and received the telegram by 9.50 a.m. Got things packed and off by 10.25 train. Thunder and lightning whole way up. Reached Peterbro about 6.30,—Lynn 9.15. Got a carriage and drove to Swaffham ...—thence to Bylaugh, arriving at 2.45 a.m. Crept up to Mother’s room,—she, ‘My darling!’— She had been nervous and restless, but slept, holding my hand.
Oh, the horror of seeing her all shrunk together in bed, hardly articulate,—I thought dying.
And had been very nearly....”
As usual when life was doing its worst, there follow a few blank pages in the diary,—pages that were to be filled in some day! “I am so glad,” wrote Miss Jane Cubitt from Fritton,—Miss Cubitt was the “sensible cousin” of the childhood, who could do equations—“I am so glad that you have arrived at Bylaugh. I feel now that all that can be done will be done.” And fortunately on this occasion recovery came more rapidly than the doctors had thought possible.
S. J.-B. returned to Edinburgh on the 8th July, not a moment too soon. She was called out to a case the evening of her arrival—having travelled north by day—and she proceeded forthwith to finish seeing her book through the press. Law business, too, was urgently claiming her return. On Wednesday, the 17th July, the historic lawsuit came on before Lord Gifford.
It must be understood that this lawsuit, though of almost infinite importance to the women, was in no way a dramatic affair like the last. In the nature of the case it afforded no sensations to provincial papers. An Action of Declarator is “for a decree defining and declaring the right of the pursuer,”[103] and the evidence in Court was given by Counsel only.
Footnote 103:
See S. J.-B.’s letter to Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell, pp. 356-7.
The women repeated in effect the requests they had so often made to the University, viz. that the Professors should either receive them as members of their classes, or else appoint (or recognize) other lecturers who would. The defence consisted substantially of two pleas: 1. that all parties are not called (see below); and 2. that the Senatus has not the power to do what it is asked to do; in other words, (a) that the University existed for men only, and, (b) that the University authorities in making this experiment, had never intended to admit women to graduation. If they did so intend, the intention was ultra vires; and indeed they probably went beyond their powers when in 1869 they framed regulations admitting women to share their privileges at all.
The hearing of the case lasted two days, and it was fully reported in the Scottish daily papers of July 18th and 19th. Much of it, of course, consisted of sheer technical detail that has long since lost interest, but Lord Gifford’s judgment—delivered eight or nine days after the hearing of Counsel—was characterized by a grip of the whole situation and enlivened by a warmth of human interest that make it a landmark in the history, not only of medical women, but of the whole Feminist movement. If he allowed his sympathy with the pursuers to appear rather too clearly, this was surely a fault that, in view of all the circumstances, may well be reckoned to him for righteousness. The gist of the judgment is contained in the following sentences:
“The Lord Ordinary finds that, according to the existing constitution and regulations of the said University of Edinburgh, the pursuers are entitled to be admitted to the study of medicine in the said University, and that they are entitled to all the rights and privileges of lawful students in the said University, subject only to the conditions specified and contained in the said regulations of 12th November 1869: Finds that the pursuers, on completing the prescribed studies, and on compliance with all the existing regulations of the University preliminary to degrees, are entitled to proceed to examination for degrees in manner prescribed by the regulations of the University of Edinburgh.”
In the “Note,” the Lord Ordinary discusses the case in detail:
“It is not easy to over-estimate the importance of the questions involved in the present action. The decision may affect, in various ways, not only the interests of the pursuers, and of all who are similarly situated, but also the future welfare of the University, and indirectly the well-being of the community at large who are interested in securing the services of thoroughly educated and accomplished medical practitioners.
The Lord Ordinary has endeavoured to approach the consideration of the questions dispassionately, and free from all prejudices or prepossessions. He has also endeavoured to keep in view that his functions are merely judicial and not legislative, and that his duty is simply to declare and apply the law as it at present stands, and in no way to endeavour to amend it, however strong his convictions of what the law ought to be....
The importance of the question to the present pursuers, and to all ladies who, like them, may contemplate the practice of medicine as a profession, lies in this, that, by the provisions of the Medical Act of 1858 no one is entitled to be registered as a medical practitioner without possessing a medical degree from one or other of the universities of the United Kingdom, or a licence equivalent thereto from certain established medical bodies mentioned in the Act. A foreign or colonial degree is not available, and does not entitle to registration unless the holder thereof has been in practice in Great Britain previous to October 1858. Unless the pursuers, therefore, succeed in obtaining degrees, they will be practically excluded from the profession of medicine, for they are not in a position to demand licences from any of the authorised medical bodies, and it can scarcely be expected that they will prosecute their medical studies merely in order to be hereafter classed with empirics, herbalists or medical botanists, or with those who, in common language, are denominated quacks. Without legal registration under the Medical Act of 1858, the pursuers would be denied all right to recover fees; they would be incapable of holding any medical appointment; and they would be subject to very serious penalties if they so much as attempted to assume the name or title of medical practitioners.
It is a fact, whatever may be its effect in law, that no University in Great Britain has ever yet granted a degree to a lady. The Medical Register of Great Britain only contains the name of two female practitioners—Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell and Dr. Garrett Anderson. Dr. Blackwell obtained her degree in America, and, being in practice in Great Britain before 1858, she obtained registration in virtue of the exception in the Act. Dr. Garrett Anderson obtained a licence from the Apothecaries’ Hall, London, and is registered as such; but, since her admission, regulations have been made which prevent any other lady from hereafter obtaining a licence from the Apothecaries’ Hall. Accordingly the course pursued by Dr. Blackwell and Dr. Anderson is not open to any of the pursuers, and their only hope of being allowed to practise medicine in Great Britain rests upon their being able to obtain a degree from one or other of the Universities.
Practically, therefore, the questions are now raised for the first time, Can a lady obtain a medical degree? and, Is any lady to be allowed to practise in Great Britain?”
The Lord Ordinary then discussed the case for the defenders, point by point: The first plea in law was the technical plea that “all parties are not called,” or, in other words, that the action should have been brought, not against the Senatus and Chancellor, but against the University as a whole.
This question, said the Lord Ordinary, should have been raised before the record was closed, and settled in limine. As a matter of fact, however, it was of little moment, as the Senatus and Chancellor were the only parties complained of,—it being assumed that the University as a whole was ready and willing to do its duty as soon as such duty was clearly defined. The Chancellor, indeed, had expressed this willingness so far as he individually was concerned, and, strictly speaking, he need not have been called as a party.
From the principle on which this preliminary plea was repelled, it followed that there was in the present action no attempt to impugn in the slightest degree the existing constitution of the University. Its existing regulations and ordinances must be taken as right, and the Senatus must simply be called upon to give effect to these as they stood.
The Lord Ordinary proceeded to make one or two observations of a general nature. He was clearly of opinion that, by the law of Scotland, there was no inherent illegality in women prosecuting the science of medicine, using the word in its largest sense, or in their engaging in the practice of medicine as a profession.... Indeed some branches of the profession were peculiarly appropriate to women and peculiarly inappropriate to men. For instance, in obstetric practice and in numerous diseases of women, a male practitioner was singularly out of place, and nothing but the deadening effect of habit would ever reconcile the community to that anomaly both in name and in reality, “a man-midwife.”
Keeping these preliminary observations in view, the Lord Ordinary proceeded to consider the constitution and regulations of the University of Edinburgh so far as they related to women:
I. It had been broadly maintained by the Counsel for the Senatus, in a very powerful and able speech, that the University of Edinburgh was founded and existed for males alone.
If this proposition were well founded, there was, of course, an end of the whole case. The Lord Ordinary, however, had felt himself quite unable to affirm this proposition, but had come ultimately, without any hesitation at all, to the conclusion that there was no foundation for this first and general contention of the defenders.
a. The charter gave no countenance to this supposition. The masculine noun or pronoun was used merely in conformity with ordinary brevity and simplicity of expression.
b. The fact that the Universities of Scotland were founded to a great extent upon the model of Bologna, etc., seemed to show that—as women were admitted to the Italian Universities—there could have been no original intention to exclude them from those founded in Scotland.
c. It was true that there was no recorded instance of a woman having taken her degree in Scotland, and this was an argument of some weight, perhaps considerable weight. If, however, the women had the right originally, that right would not be lost by the mere fact of non-usage. The right in their case was res merae facultatis, like a man’s right to build upon his own ground,—a right that is not lost though no building be erected for hundreds or thousands of years. To extinguish such a right there must be a contrary usage—a possession inconsistent with the exercise of the right—and that did not exist in the present case.
d. If there was no express exclusion of women and nothing necessarily leading to their exclusion, it seemed fair to fall back upon the inherent legality and appropriateness of the study and practice of medicine by women, and to infer that a medical school founded in the University could not have as one of its conditions the exclusion of the female sex.
e. Passing from such general considerations, the Lord Ordinary considered it quite conclusive of the whole question that, by regulations lawfully enacted by competent and sufficient authority, provision had actually been made for the admission of women to the study of medicine in the University of Edinburgh, and that actually detailed regulations had been made regulating their studies and examinations.
II. The Lord Ordinary was of opinion that the “regulations for the education of women in Medicine in the University” of Edinburgh, enacted by the University Court of 10th November, 1869, and approved of by the Chancellor on 12th November, 1869, were valid and binding in every respect, and formed an integral part of the constitution and regulations of the University as it at present existed. At the debate it was felt on both sides that these regulations formed almost the turning-point in the case, and the counsel for the Senatus, sorely pressed by them, had boldly challenged their legality, maintained that they were ultra vires of the University Court to enact, and had asked the Lord Ordinary to treat them as a nullity. Here again the Lord Ordinary thought the position taken by the Senatus was absolutely untenable.
The regulations in question were solemnly, after much discussion, after long consideration, and after due communication with the whole governing bodies of the University, enacted by the University Court, a body which had very large and almost legislative powers. The regulations were enacted with all the required statutory requisites. “Due communication” was had with the Senatus. The matter was submitted to and was duly considered by the University Council, and the regulations received the final sanction and approval of the Chancellor. The Senatus, the University Court and the University Council had all the benefit of the very highest legal skill and experience. Most eminent lawyers were members of all these bodies; and the Chancellor who put the seal of his approbation and sanction to the regulations held with universal acceptance the very highest judicial office in Scotland.... So satisfied had the Senatus been of the validity of the regulations, that they had actually applied to the enacting power—that is, to the University Court— to rescind them. The University Court had refused to rescind the regulations and they still stood part of the law of the University.
III. The Lord Ordinary was of opinion that the pursuers were entitled in substance to the declaratory decree which they demanded in the present action....
The right to medical graduation was really at the foundation of the whole of the present dispute. If the ladies had been content to study as mere amateurs—as mere dilettanti—it rather appeared that no question would ever have been raised. But their demand for degrees, and the announcement of their intention to practise as physicians, had aroused a jealousy which the Lord Ordinary was very unwillingly obliged to characterize as unworthy, and hence this strife.
The Lord Ordinary was of opinion, without any doubt at all that the proposal to withhold from successful or fully accomplished female students the regular degrees, and to give them instead mere certificates of proficiency was incompetent as well as unjust. The proposal was not unnaturally stigmatized by the pursuers as “a mere mockery.”
IV. All this, of course, had reference to the declaratory conclusions. Beyond that the Lord Ordinary could give no help. The first petitory conclusion asked that the Professors be directed to admit women to their ordinary classes; but this, as Lord Gifford pointed out, was more than the Senatus had power to do, and the University Court could only do it by altering regulations which the present judgment had assumed to be right. The University Court, however, had undoubted power to recognize extra-academical teachers; and—as teachers of unquestionable standing and ability were ready to give the pursuers instruction in separate classes—as, moreover, the University had only been held back by a doubt as to its own powers—the Lord Ordinary hoped that this solution would terminate the unfortunate controversy which had raged so long.
* * * * *
S. J.-B. records the result very briefly in her diary:
“Friday, July 26th. Lord Gifford’s judgment. Affirms declaratory conclusions, i.e. full rights,—denies petitory conclusions, i.e. says action so framed that he could not make order on Senatus.
Gloria tibi, Domine!
Substantially the whole cause won for all women, I believe.
His note too good to be easily set aside. May be fresh delay—hardly defeat.”
In any case it was a great and inspiring judgment,—almost enough to atone to S. J.-B. at the moment for all she had come through; for it must not be forgotten that the epoch-making enactments of November 1869, on which almost everything turned, had been won by her own bow and spear, practically before any other woman student had appeared upon the scene.[104] Well might she cry, “Gloria tibi, Domine!”
Footnote 104:
See p. 260.
And within a few days a great pæan of rejoicing rang out over the land,— rejoicing that was to spread over the whole civilized world. Once more the postman was a delightful visitant. Indeed, as one reads the letters, one is fain to retract the dictum that this lawsuit was in any way devoid of dramatic interest.
The telegraph boy came first, with a characteristic message from Mrs. Kingsley:
“A thousand congratulations. How is R.C.”
“Eileanach, Inverness. July 31/72.
DEAR MISS BLAKE,
A paragraph in the Daily Telegraph of the 30th made me surprise sitters-by, by exclaiming ‘Thank God,’...
It is almost too good news to be true, although those not versed in legal quibbles felt that your claim was both legal and equitable, and must, in due time, be conceded. Yet, I would thankfully learn that the case is ended, and that there is to be no appeal to keep it open longer.
I mean to be in Edinr. (Cockburn Hotel) on the 8th August, and will that day try to see and congratulate you on the blessed determination you have shown, all along, not to be put down by mere brute, unmanly force, but to compel justice to be done.
I am grieved that this should have cost you and your friends such shameful trouble and expense, but know, that this loss to you, will be the cause of myriads of dear women thanking God for having won a victory that will do more for their welfare and happiness, temporal and spiritual, than is now perceived but by a very few....
May God be with you and your friends, and speedily fill the land with true women like you, so that no woman may need to keep secret for an instant a single pain, because she can only tell it to men.
Very sincerely yours, J. MACKENZIE, M.D., Provost.”
“Wednesday, July 31.
DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
Will you allow me to add my hearty congratulations to those with which I doubt not you are now being overwhelmed, on the success of your brave and patient conflict with prejudice and injustice? I think the question is now practically settled.
Thanks for your kind letter. I am very glad you liked St. Andrews. Believe me with much respect,
Yours very sincerely, A. K. H. BOYD.”
The letter that follows is from one who was to become an invaluable champion.
“16 Wimpole Street. July 27.
DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
Allow me to congratulate you most heartily on the decision of Lord Gifford, which establishes the rights of the lady students at Edinburgh.
I will do what I can to get your interesting little book noticed in the Lancet.
I do hope that the Conservative party in the profession will now have the sense to give way with a good grace.
Believe me, dear Miss Jex-Blake, Yours very truly, FRANCIS ED. ANSTIE.”
The next is in the shaky handwriting of an invalid:
“MY DARLING,
I was so delighted to have your letter with the grand news. I had not dared expect anything so good. From my heart I thank God and rejoice. I feel so comfortably well, no aches or pains whatever. May God bless and prosper my darling.
YOUR LOVING MOTHER.
Shall I give a copy to Nurse of the book when we part?”
“Riffelberg. July 30th. 1872.
MY DEAR SOPHY,
I am delighted to see in Times of 27th, just arrived, that Lord Gifford has given a judgment entirely in favour of yourself and the other lady students. I congratulate you heartily and only hope it is final.
I am here 8,400 ft. above the sea, having found it impossible to get fresh in England, ...
I hope your legal perils are over; and, though one has regretted that so much legal work prevented your own medical start, it has been well worth all you have gone through, or yet may go through, to open the Profession thoroughly to women.
As soon as you have completed your training, you have in my opinion nothing but success before you: and, within 12 months of settling in London as a properly qualified Physician, you will find it easy to make £2000 a year, and impossible to avoid doing a very large amount of good in making it....
Your affectionate brother, T. W. J.-B.”
It was on the occasion of this visit to Switzerland that Mr. Jex-Blake made the acquaintance of Miss Agnes M‘Laren—on the top of the Eggishorn! It chanced one day that he ran down from the summit to assist a fragile little lady up the last steep climb, and, in the course of subsequent conversation, lent her a guide-book, in which, to her great surprise, she found the familiar name of Jex-Blake.
So the Eggishorn heard all about it.
Yes, friends were kind, and more than kind; but, as before, the “man in the street” rejoices one’s heart:
“Glasgow. 30th July, 1872.
DEAR LADY,
I beg respectfully to convey my sincere thanks to you for the gallant stand which you have made against those parties whom I may term Medical Monopolists, and to express my delight at the success which have attended your efforts.
Your address and ability in thwarting the selfish purposes of said parties have endeared you to every liberty loving individual in the civilised world, and I sincerely hope you will long be spared to benefit suffering humanity by your experience and knowledge—knowledge which you have pursued under such tremendous difficulties, but the possession of which cannot fail eventually to raise you to the very pinacle of your profession.
I am, Yours very respectfully, ...”
The following lines, written and sent to S. J.-B. a few months later by a well-known Edinburgh citizen, may be taken as a sample of much clever and spirited doggerel on both sides of the question:
“I do rejoice, Miss Jex, The gods have heard your Prex, To vindicate your Sex, By passing a new Lex, Though that does sadly vex Professor C., senex, Who plays the part of Rex, But may become an Ex, Because he won’t annex The females to his Grex.”
XV. PAYING THE PRICE
All through that autumn S. J.-B’s mind must have been simply seething with the manifold interests that claimed her attention.
“If anybody ever deserved a rest, you do,” writes Miss Stevenson, “and I most earnestly hope you will take a thorough one. I do not think any of us are able fully to realize the importance of Lord Gifford’s decision to all men and women in all time coming.”
“I am truly glad that something is definitely settled at last,” writes Miss Bovell from Paris, “and not least for your sake. I do trust you may have much less worry in future, though I fear the ‘separate classes’ will still prove a source of trouble. Perhaps some time hence the British Medical Profession, as well as the British Public, may be sufficiently advanced to throw aside the unscientific scruples which happily appear to have no existence here....
I suppose you will be going in for your Professional in October? I wish you all possible honours. I trust your mind is now sufficiently at ease for you to work at books, but you will take a holiday in the country first, will you not?”
The difficulty of arranging classes was so great that a good many of the students had scattered for the summer months. Mrs. Chaplin Ayrton, as well as Miss Bovell, was in Paris; Miss Massingberd Mundy and Miss Dahms had gone to Dr. Lucy Sewall at Boston, and Miss Pechey was working at the Lying-in Hospital in Endell Street.
“Oh, Lucy, I’m so tired of it all!” S. J.-B. had written to her friend a month or two before this. “When those children went to you a fortnight ago, I did so wish I could have gone and been rested and nursed for a few months!
But I’m sure you will see how utterly without choice I am,—that I must stay at my post as long as I can stand.
But I am getting more and more doubtful whether I myself shall ever finish my education. I think when once the fight is won, I shall creep away into some wood and lie and sleep for a year.
However all that is beside the question.”
A letter from Miss Pechey—written in September—takes a sterner tone than is her wont. After reporting about her work at Endell Street, she goes on:
“You have never told me how you are getting on with your exam. subjects; such silence is very ominous, and I’m afraid you haven’t been doing anything at them. You really must, if you intend to go up in October, for it is by no means child’s play getting up three such different subjects, and it would be simply awful if you went up and didn’t pass....”
Here the writer has obviously dried the ink, and sat looking at the space that remained, appalled, we may suppose, by the contingency she has called up.
“Don’t you like me to lecture you?” she concludes finally, and passes on to another subject.
There certainly were not many people who dared to ‘lecture’ S. J.-B. The mingled love and fear with which her juniors (and not her juniors only) regarded her scarcely comes out in the correspondence, though one gets more than a glimpse of it in the following letter from one of the two who went to Boston, the humourist and enfant gâtée of the little circle:
“DEAR MISS PECHEY,
I write to you for several reasons, the one chiefly worth mentioning being that I want you to give some messages to Miss Jex- Blake, as, however busy you are, you are not likely to be so busy as she is, and therefore a letter is less waste of time to you. I believe though at the bottom of my heart that my real reason is that I am, even away from her, frightened of her. See how deep the feeling is. (The writer proceeds to relate a perfectly fantastic dream.)
Miss Jex-Blake, as you know, has written to Dr. Sewall, advising me to stay in Boston this winter; the Dr. is so good as to say she will keep me with her, and I am quite willing to stay, so unless my father and mother object, that is settled....
What joyful news that lawsuit news has been. I have had letters of rejoicing from many folks, but I declare I am chiefly glad for Miss Jex-Blake’s sake, and I hope now she sees some prospect of a quiet winter. Of course there is still much to do, but she has put a great piece of the road behind her. Is it not so? And I assure you the general question was becoming lost to sight by me in the particular one of her success and rest.
If Miss Jex-Blake comments on my hand, tell her I do write my copies, I do remember her rules, and only fall into this style when a little tired as at present....
I have seen now Dr. Sewall use forceps three times, and it is impossible to see anything prettier.... She uses any sort of instrument beautifully. I should like to see her conduct some large operation. I think well-done surgery is fascinating, and I never saw anyone handle an instrument so easily and so securely. I should feel safe whatever she was going to do to me or mine....”
Of course S. J.-B. saw the letter,—though the dream was a most audacious one—and it made her quite homesick for the old Boston life.
“DEAREST LUCY,” she writes,
“It is just a year since we parted, and I do so want to see you again. Miss —— makes me quite envious with her descriptions of her happiness in Boston and of the goodness of ‘my doctor.’ Will you come over with her in the spring?...
I am just going to set hard to work for 5 weeks in preparation for my 1st Professional Exam., which comes off about October 22nd. It would never do for me to be plucked! In fact I shall not go in unless I feel pretty well prepared when the time comes. Please thank Miss Call for her note to me, and tell her I wish she could have come to Edinburgh.”
She did set to work hard, but events could scarcely be called propitious. On the strength of Lord Gifford’s judgment, she was renting a small house to serve as a medical school, arranging for the winter’s course of teaching; and, especially, trying to get an Anatomy lecturer recognized by a body of men, who—rightly or wrongly—did not mean to recognize him. Meanwhile editors showed themselves increasingly glad to get her work—journalistic work—not only on subjects connected with her special struggle, but about anything that called forth her gift for clear and incisive writing: and all the money she could earn in this way was not only welcome, but actually needed to keep things going. Although she was extraordinarily economical, as we have seen, her generosity and her large and businesslike way of dealing with things always gave the impression of larger means than she possessed; and many appealed to her for help who would have been amazed to learn how narrow her margin was.
“I am glad of both your articles,” writes Mr. Russel about this time, “but the beginnings of both are de trop.
If I see a topic you would care to handle, I shall be prompt to let you know.”
“I am much obliged by your MS., which will duly appear as a leader tomorrow,” writes another editor.
Her book, too, was exciting no small interest, and the consequent letters, enquiries and reviews[105]—very lengthy reviews in some cases— were a preoccupation in themselves. Any day might bring the opening up of a new vista.
Footnote 105:
The following is a fair average specimen of the cordiality with which the book was received:—“So convincing is the argument, so obvious the conclusions to which it leads up, that one fairly wonders, after putting down the essay in which they are enforced, how it should have come to pass in this nineteenth century that it should be necessary for any such essay to be written.”—Liverpool Mercury.
“Sept, 11th.
DARLING MOTHER,
I have but a moment to send you a piece of news that I know will be very welcome, viz, that A Scotchman resident in India called on me last night, asked how matters were progressing, said the battle was being gallantly fought, and departed after stating mildly that he would send us ‘a thousand pounds at once and more if needed,’ that the fight might not fail for want of money! The money is worth a great deal, but the moral effect is almost more, as the man is an absolute stranger and cares simply for the principle.
Probably now we shall get a lot more.
Yours lovingly, SOPH.
His name is Walter Thomson, he had just read my book. (Not a bad 2s. 6d. worth, was it?)”
It is impossible to exaggerate the reverence—“respect” is too weak a word—with which S. J.-B. throughout life treated the money that came to her in this way. It was infinitely more precious to her than possessions of her own: and the amount of the donation made no difference. If it was not to be used immediately, it was invested with the greatest care and forethought; every penny was strictly accounted for; and no farthing expended on administration, or on any kind of work involved (railway journeys and so forth), was allowed to come out of the fund itself. There never were any “working expenses.” All that was done for love.
More gifts on this scale did not follow forthwith, but her lecture and the book that followed it were bringing in a return that was worth even more. They were arousing interest among men who might be able to assist the cause in a bigger way than had yet suggested itself.
“I wonder,” writes Miss Wolstenholme, “whether you are aware how deeply interested Mr. Stansfeld is in your question, and how warmly disposed to help you by legislation or in any other way.”[106]
Footnote 106:
Mr. Stansfeld was President of the Local Government Board.
There follow a number of suggestions as to the amendment of the Medical Act of 1858.
* * * * *
Meanwhile the University had appealed to the Inner House against Lord Gifford’s judgment, and—after hanging fire for long months—the case at this juncture became imminent.
It was in the midst of all this that preparation for the professional examination went on.
Of course the task ought not to have been a formidable one. S. J.-B. had done excellent class-work in the subjects required, and they had been simmering in her mind for years; but everyone who has watched the career of many students knows that that man stands the best chance of acquitting himself well who, having got his subject up, goes in for the examination straightway, before the natural process of selection and assimilation in his own mind emphasizes this item and discards that, as the case may be. The knowledge one wants for an examination is not the knowledge that becomes one’s working equipment for life.
The “last straw” for S. J.-B. was the distressing illness of a very dear friend in the course of those five precious weeks, and finally we come without surprise to the following entry in the diary:
“Sunday, Oct. 6th. Rather out of heart. I can’t get courage or sense for the Organic Chemistry, and must leave it till E. P. comes; and the Botany seems so desperately voluminous! My head seems tired,—I can’t make it work more than an hour or so at a time,... But somehow my fatalism makes me think I shall get through, when E. P. comes and quiets me,—she comes Thursday, 10th.”
“Oct. 11th. I’ve had such bother about Anatomy rooms, etc., and shall have to organize about Fund, etc.
Things seem to crowd on me so. And other people get such nice long holidays!—oh, dear! Well, as Robertson says, everything has its price....
Then H. [the Anatomy teacher]. The Court refused him flat on Monday, on ground of ‘no evidence of qualification’! He on Tuesday is to send in his diplomas and other testimonials, and I have to get them copied and printed, etc.
My own Botany stuck fast,—I nervous and shaky again,—feeling strength go out of me drop by drop.
If only the 22nd were well over!
E. P. came back yesterday, dear child,—so loving and good.”
At this point S. J.-B. breaks off to record the—very indifferent— achievements of the new students in their preliminary examination!
“Oct. 22nd. Professional Exam.... Did good paper in Nat. Hist.,—fair in Chemistry, poor in Botany. Went down to Falkirk to sleep.[107]
“Oct. 23rd. Came up for Practical Chemistry Exam. White Millar met me and worried me for [law] papers. Head dazed,—Crum Brown let me up [? off] till another day.”
Footnote 107:
To visit the friend who had been ill.
Well, there is no use in “spinning out the agony.” S. J.-B. was rejected in her examination. With a mental endowment obviously far above the average in either sex, she found herself, after all these years of study,—so far as any practical result was concerned—absolutely at the foot of the ladder. She had nothing whatever to show for her work: she had failed in a test that almost any schoolboy can pass,—and the eye of the civilized world was upon her.
There is no denying that it was bad to bear, and the tragic part of the matter was that she could not bring herself to believe that—in the subject of Natural History at all events—her paper had been fairly treated. So many petty difficulties had been thrown in her way all along, so little magnanimity had been shown her by some of those in authority, that her fighting instinct rose almost automatically to the encounter. What could this be but simply one effort more on the part of the enemy to defeat her per omne fas et nefas?[108]
Footnote 108:
See extract from Lancet, p. 319.
About this time Professor Huxley seems to have expressed to some mutual friend his sympathy with the women students; he had refused—quite definitely, but with obvious regret—to come to their assistance by examining their proposed Anatomy lecturer[109] when the University of Edinburgh refused to do so; and Miss Pechey now took upon herself the difficult task of asking his opinion upon the Natural History paper. It was a great venture from every point of view, and certainly shows how confident S. J.-B. was in her view of the case.
Footnote 109:
See Huxley’s Life, i. 387.
“Vor den Wissenden sich stellen—” is an admirable motto, but the standard of examination in Natural History in Edinburgh at that time was certainly not the standard demanded by London now, and many a creditable Edinburgh student of those days might have cause to congratulate himself that he was not examined by Huxley.
“He was very kind about it,” writes Miss Pechey, “and I had a long talk with him. He thought it would be difficult for H. to get anyone to examine him, as even Ellis would not like to constitute himself an examiner. I think he has rather altered his idea of the honesty, etc., of the Edinr. Professors, but he said such conduct was inexplicable to him. However, although I expect he thought I’ was giving him a one- sided statement, I think he considers us the aggrieved party.
At first he would not look at the papers, but when he had asked me about them, he said he would look over the Natural History, and although he was very kind about it, his verdict was unfavourable. Of course I have no doubt that they would have passed a man on your paper, but still you must have them extra good before you can make any fuss about it....
I hope you won’t worry yourself about the papers, as I hope we shall have plenty of leisure so that we can go over the subjects again in a proper way: it would have been a wonder if you could have passed in the midst of all that worry.... God bless you, darling.”
As we know S. J.-B. had more worries on hand than the sore question of her examination papers. The Appeal in the famous case of Miss Jex-Blake v. the Senatus was really before the Court of Session now, and she was “up till past 12 revising the proofs” for the daily papers.
“Sunday, Nov. 3rd. Word from E. P. (who went to London Wednesday) that Huxley didn’t approve my Nat. Hist. paper. So fight for ‘pluck’ given up.
Poor Nelly O’B. lost her father a few weeks ago.”
Apparently she wrote to report progress to her brother the same day.
“The College, Cheltenham. Nov. 4. 1872.
MY DEAR SOPHY,
You have come to the right decision without a doubt. Probably they were sharp upon you, but to prove injustice in an examiner is a hopeless task. They are evidently very bitter, and apparently not scrupulous; but to my mind that was not the point; for, in writing to you[110] I had only to consider what was the wise course for you; and it seemed to be exactly what I advised and what you have done.
I am very sorry, and so is Hetty, for the mishap and the loss of time: but you can turn it to benefit: and all’s well that ends well, as your cause will end certainly.
Your affectionate brother, T. W. J.-B.”
Footnote 110:
The previous letter has not been found.
“The Elms. Monday, 4th November.
MY PRECIOUS DARLING,
I am not all surprised, and so glad to hear that there is another opportunity in April. I had said I had no doubt they would floor you if they could. Your mind and time have been so engrossed that you cannot be very angry with yourself. I quite think I have felt for you more than you have for yourself....”
[The dear old Mother, with the sword in her heart!]
“I am getting on so nicely here. I hope you will not have any lawyers to consult with about other pressing matters, nor articles to write when you take up study for April. I shall like to know when you begin (probably not till February) that I may ask help where it is promised to be given. I hope my darling has a little breathing time now, and will take every care of herself, as I will of her baby.
Ever your loving Mummy, MARIA EMILY JEX-BLAKE.
It is best for me to write little.”
Meanwhile enquiries poured in on every side. The following paragraph appeared in a well-known Weekly:
“The question of the admission of Women to medical degrees in Edinburgh University has been rather unexpectedly solved, at least for the present. Miss Jex-Blake, a foremost champion of the movement, has actually been ‘plucked’ in her examination and sent back to complete her scientific studies.”
This paragraph was cut out and sent to S. J.-B. by other papers and by many individuals as well, with a request for an explanation, or, as they graciously put it, “for the means of authoritatively contradicting it.”
* * * * *
Norfolk cousins who had been mildly loyal and sympathetic at a distance, were roused to positive incredulity. The delightful Sarah of the girlhood reverts to the old affection and the old playful names:
“Wimbledon. Dec. 14th.
DEAR OLD MAN,
I want you to write and tell me all about yourself, and why you did not pass your examinations. There must be a reason why you did not. I want you to tell me, for I hear all sorts of things, and want to know the truth. Send me a Scotch paper about you, for I never see anything in the English papers for or against you—only facts [!]...
Write to me like a good man.
Ever your affectionate, S[ARAH] J.-B.”
Yes, things were pretty black. So black that one is not in the least surprised to hear that at this time Miss M‘Laren decided to throw in her lot with the women students. Retiring and delicate though she was, the following letter written on one of her propagandist Suffrage tours, is evidence that she brought sufficient moral grit to the new life:
“Strachie, [?] Argyllshire. Nov. 10th. 1872.
I wish so much that you could have joined us yesterday by balloon, so as to have had this delicious day in the country,—besides the pleasure of being together. The pure air would have refreshed you very much,— and it is so lovely. Yesterday it rained in torrents.... I was so glad you were not with us, for I found I had promised more than I could perform,—only a pleasant drive of two hours! Imagine our horror when we found that the steamer advertised to sail from Helensburgh to Dunoon was broken down and could not go,—and we were told that it would be impossible for us to manage the journey. Of course we had to find out a way to go, and it was to drive 3 miles, then to ferry, then to drive 4 miles, then to catch a steamer, then to have the 2 hours’ drive originally expected! ... and only to reach this at 7—half an hour after hour of meeting!
It was out of the question to put meeting off, for there was no telegraph, and the people had come 6, 8, or 9 miles. They knew something must have happened to delay us, and waited patiently. We had to hurry to the meeting, and found a large schoolhouse crowded with people, and some half dozen dogs, and dimly lighted by 8 candles! It was so funny! And they were so enthusiastic....
I have been thinking a great deal about joining you, and the conclusion I have come to is to tell Papa and Mama that I would like to try to study if they would give their consent.
If I felt I had a vocation for medicine, it would make me bolder, but you know that I cannot honestly plead that. On the contrary I have very grave doubts of my capacity for it, especially for the preliminary years of study, and they might very probably prove to be lost years....
No, the attractions to me would be a definite sphere, and an independent one, and being associated with you in work of any kind.
It would be a great happiness to me to be with you, and to believe that I was a help to you however small.
But then, I cannot but believe that you must before long have the greater help of having Miss Du Pre with you, and, in the meantime, till she can come, you may be sure I will be as much as possible with you.”
A delightful correspondence ensued between Miss M‘Laren and Miss Du Pre, who knew each other but slightly:
“As you cannot be with Sophy,” writes Miss M‘Laren, “I would like very much to be with her, for she does really deserve all the help she can get when she has so much to do.... It would, as you know, be a great happiness to me to be with her, but I would not mind for myself at all. If you could only be with her, I would be quite happy not to be, feeling that it was not right for me to risk making family discomfort, just for myself. What do you honestly think? I would not of course think of troubling you about my concerns except as they concern Sophy.”
“All my instincts are against causing family sorrow and trouble,” writes Miss Du Pre in reply. “... but I cannot but think that in your case the trouble would not be permanent.
I think myself that studying new and difficult sciences and trying to help Sophy at the same time would be more than your strength would stand,—at least I know I could not do it myself. Though, on the other hand, it might be still more difficult to study at home where all sorts of family habits and calls upon one’s time make it so hard to do anything thoroughly.
I believe, if I were you, I would try to wear away by degrees the opposition of my parents, perhaps by going to help Sophy for a month or so, and then coming home again, being willing in the meantime to be present at any dinner party when they particularly needed my help, etc. I do think that people hate a plan so much less when the thought of it is no longer new and startling to them.... I cannot express to you how glad I shall be if you can see it to be right to go to Sophy, for I think your presence and help are exactly what she needs and needs sorely too. But you must not think that I only care about it for her sake, for it would be a great pleasure to me to think that you were enjoying her company and friendship.”
Of course Miss M‘Laren carried her point, and, if she never quite succeeded in persuading herself of her “vocation,” she left a large clientèle of patients in no doubt at all upon the subject.
XVI. END OF THE BATTLE IN EDINBURGH
The year 1873 is not one of the most dramatic in the history, but no other has a more impressive record of work done, of resolute determination to try every door, and to keep on trying.
It was becoming increasingly clear that—whatever the immediate issue of the lawsuit might be—a wider appeal must be made. Even S. J.-B. began to see that “no decision in our favour can give us the good will of the Medical Faculty”; and Mr. Stansfeld’s warm and appreciative interest in the question seemed to open a new door of hope. From this time forward the recurrence of his fine clear handwriting in the correspondence (brief though his letters are) is a constant reminder of how “Providence rescues and saves His elect inheritance” as “the dear Newman” would have said, though in another connection.
Mr. Stansfeld knew Professor Masson well, and probably began his acquaintance with S. J.-B. in no ignorance of her défauts,—the défauts that made so many timorous; but, like Masson, he was a strong man; like Masson he thought Carlyle was right in holding that “on the whole we make too much of faults”; and to the end of the long history he rejoiced wholeheartedly in the magnificent acumen and strength of Sophia Jex-Blake.
S. J.-B. had made his acquaintance at the time of her lecture, and now, after some little correspondence, she saw him again, and received his introduction to some of his colleagues.
We quote from diary:
“Dec. 10th [1872] To London. At Cordery’s till 13th.
11th Wednesday. Saw Stansfeld at Whitehall. Then Simon, who, though not very sanguine as to value of women doctors, is quite clear they must have a chance. Suggests that the Colleges could not refuse to examine us. Lord Ripon also kindly,—quite inclined to make Medical Act as dependent as possible on Registration. Lowe marvellously civil. Very glad to see me, was quite clear it was a case for legislation. If we lost the lawsuit, he would consult with Stansfeld, and do all he could.
Tuesday, 17th. (Dear old man’s birthday,—would have been 82!) To Yaxham. Mother fairly well.
For next 10 days stayed much in bed, read Gil Blas, etc., in utter dearth of books. Worried by letters and telegrams from Edinburgh.
Thursday 26th. Started back for Edinburgh. Carriage to myself whole way. Arrived
Friday 6 a.m. Slept an hour or two. Then 4 hours’ cab and canvassing; and so on for next week.”
“Monday, Jan. 6th. 1873. Infirmary meeting. We apparently beaten by 279 to 271—pending scrutiny. Turner and Lister waved hats and hurrahed!”
“Feb. 10th. The piety of the Infirmary Managers actually obliged them to turn us out of Sunday visit, at least ‘for the present.’ Cowan[111] delightfully indignant for once at ‘breach of faith’.
Feb. 16th. He went to Infirmary during Sunday visit; and went away, telling Mrs. Thorne oracularly that ‘he had seen quite enough for his purpose’.
Feb. 17th. Monday. He made a tremendous row at Managers’ Meeting. Said that the previous day he had visited the wards and ‘had never seen a more truly Christian, more truly Sabbatic sight, than the ladies at the sick-beds.’ By 10 to 6 votes in again.”
Footnote 111:
Lord Provost.
Such were the ups and downs of daily life.
* * * * *
The question was raised at this time of having one or more women on the School Board, and S. J.-B. took up the matter enthusiastically. It was useless to remind her that she had more than enough on her hands already. Here was a matter in which she really could serve. And a great occasion it proved. Even those who were children at the time have not forgotten the wild excitement in Edinburgh over that election, and the lift given to the whole woman movement when the two lady candidates—Miss Phoebe Blyth and Miss Flora Stevenson—appeared on the list second only to the Roman Catholic priest, who had, of course, all the suffrages of the faithful.
“You and Miss Blake must have half killed yourselves in getting a Committee with such names as you have,” Miss Blyth had written.
“If you and Miss M‘Laren had not gone in so strongly for my interests,” wrote Miss Stevenson, “I should have found myself very much lower.”
So perhaps it was worth while, for the place taken by the women on the list was a weapon of good fighting force for the future.
It was a helpful distraction too for S. J.-B. herself, and at that moment the constant pressure of unsatisfactory difficulties and worries— some few of these latter, of course, created by herself—was very wearisome. Always something trying to do, and never anything to show for it,—that was the record of her life at the time. Here is a heart cry such as one seldom gets from her now:
“Sunday, May 18th.—Oh, dear!—for some brightness and freshness and pleasure to break the long grey wait and work!—Nothing’s wrong,—I’m fairly well, and by no means unhappy. I’ve the real essentials of happiness,—love and work,—but the fruition of both seems so far away!
And I want 3 or 4 days of bright sunshine,—rides and drives, ices and champagne!—easy luxurious life for a few days’ change.
Ah, well! Some day I hope to have just such a bright easy home or nest somewhere—and to find brain and body workers to take to it for the 3 or 4 days’ rest and change! How one needs to experience needs in order to understand them!”
There are some perhaps who will read this entry with no little feeling when they remember how, long years after, she realized this ideal in the home of her retirement, Windydene.[112]
Footnote 112:
“... And now a flood of memories of sweet Windydene brings tears to my eyes. No fear there of rowdy ricsha coolies in a narrow alley quarrelling over the right of way—nor rattle of carriages with their annoying official bell ‘Clear the way’ up to 2 a.m.—but just silent peace. My heaven will certainly have to be silence for a space. But Windydene contains ... and the Doctor, and I remember talks over the drawing-room fire, and those incomparable evenings in the Doctor’s Study, and as these thoughts make one both weepy and sentimental, I had better stop.” Extract from a letter from Dr. Lillie Saville, Tientsin, Jan. 7th, 1911.
But the saving sense of humour was never less than dormant. She seldom has time to quote jokes in the diary now, but here is the very next entry:
“May 23rd. From Life of Barham. Dr. Thos. Hume charged 7s. 6d. instead of 5s. for death notice, because of ‘universally beloved and deeply regretted.’ To surly clerk,—'Congratulate yourself, Sir, that this is an expense to which your Executors will never be put!’”
The mood was not quite evanescent, however, for the anxious Mother reads it between the lines:
“13 Sussex Square, 28 May.
DARLING,
I fear you were very weary when you wrote; Mother’s heart is constantly with her little one, and yearning for some little word of her health or her interests. Though I don’t want to be selfish and have her write often,—when she does write she must mention herself and how she is getting on.
H. [a former maid] is paying me a little visit. She looks very poorly and she jumped at my offer to come here for a week.... She asked about you, and I lent her your book. She wishes enough there were a lady doctor for her to consult.
Ever your loving Mummy, M. E. J.-B.”
One is glad to know that the women students were having a course of lectures on Medical Jurisprudence from Dr. (afterwards Sir Henry) Littlejohn that term,—with all the delightful excursions, topographical and mental, which that course involved. No one who has had the privilege of the same experience can regard the history of that summer as a trial without compensation.
* * * * *
Meanwhile the lawsuit was dragging its weary course. One cannot be surprised that the University should have appealed against Lord Gifford’s decision. If appeal be made to law at all, one must get the last word of the law,—especially if, in the last resort, public funds are available to pay for it. There were still lurking possibilities in that little word “vir,” and it might yet be shown that the University had done an illegal thing when it admitted the women in the first instance. If that proved to be so—and it was the crux of the whole case—the University (so it was argued) must be held excused from all responsibility towards the women students themselves.
* * * * *
But, if one refrains from blaming the University, one cannot sufficiently admire the behaviour of the women students as a whole during those trying days of uncertainty. While the younger members of the little band were pursuing their education where and how they could, the seniors were striving on every hand to find some open door or to unlock one that was closed. Birmingham was at least discussed, with its possibilities; St. Andrews, Durham, and the various centres in Ireland were visited and worked diplomatically, and for a time not without apparent prospect of success. It is pathetic to go through the endless reams of correspondence—vital once with hopes and fears—that was destined to end, for the moment at least, in nothing.
In June S. J.-B. and Miss M‘Laren went on a mission to Newcastle, and they had scarcely left Edinburgh before Miss Pechey, who had just returned, sent the following report:
“15 Buccleuch Place, Edinburgh. June 17th. 1873.
DARLING SOPH,
I was going to write to you yesterday, but was overcome with sleep, the result, I suppose, of getting up at 5 o’clock. Last night Millar sent a copy of the Consulted Lords’ Opinion with a note to say that the case would be put on this week, and that the proceedings would occupy only a few minutes—merely formal. He is to let me know when it comes on. Ormidale, Mure, Mackenzie and Shand are dead against us, contending that the Court had no power to make the regulations. Deas, Ardmillan, Jerviswoode and Gifford only in favour of the regulations holding good and our right to graduation,—but not a word as to the regulations being enforced, and we are still left at the mercy of the individual professors.
‘That being the case, this coloured individual will take to the woods.’ We must look either to Newcastle or St. Andrews. My only care now about the decision of the other judges is with regard to the expenses....
I hope the Newcastle people are behaving well.”
Individually they were behaving well of course, and individually the applicants saw them. Two of S. J.-B.’s drafted petitions have been preserved:
“Station Hotel, Newcastle. June 19th. 1873.
GENTLEMEN,
Relying on the liberality with which the College of Science of the University of Durham has been thrown open to women, I venture to request that you will pursue a similar liberal policy with reference to your College of Medicine, and will admit to it those women who are desirous to enter the medical profession, and for whose education absolutely no provision exists at this moment in Great Britain.
If it is thought desirable that separate classes should be established in any of the subjects of medical education, I am prepared to guarantee for such classes the payment of whatever minimum fee may be fixed by you, and I am further in a position to state that, if your College is thrown open, at least fifteen women will at once enrol themselves as students.
I have the honour to be, Gentlemen,
Yours obedly, SOPHIA JEX-BLAKE.”
“June 23rd. 1873.
DEAR SIR,
As I understand that some of the Medical Professors feel a difficulty in arranging for the education of women, while others are quite ready to do so, I venture to suggest whether it would not be possible to admit ladies tentatively for a single term to the classes of such teachers as are prepared to receive them, pending a final decision of the whole question.
I think I mentioned to you that those among us who have studied longest, have attended all the classes required for the Durham licence, except those of Midwifery, Materia Medica and Therapeutics, and that if these classes could be given in the winter session they might present themselves for the April examination. After the experience of such a tentative session, it might with greater certainty be decided whether or not permanent arrangements could be made.
Indeed, even if it should be thought impossible to make any such partial arrangement for instruction, it might be a matter for consideration whether the Medical Council (in conjunction with the Durham authorities) might not agree to examine women with a view to the licence, if they presented certificates of having attended all the necessary classes, and if they paid the fees for one session at Newcastle, even without attending classes there, in case such attendance should be found impracticable.
Commending the whole question to the most favourable consideration of yourself and your colleagues, I remain,
Yours obedly, SOPHIA JEX-BLAKE.”
At least she and Miss M‘Laren were not kept waiting long in suspense. On the very same day the answer was despatched:
“University of Durham College of Medicine, Newcastle on Tyne. June 23rd. 1873.
DEAR MISS BLAKE,
I am requested to forward you a copy of a resolution passed unanimously at an extraordinary meeting of members held today.
‘That the members of this College, at an extraordinary meeting, having considered the question of opening the Classes of the College for the education of women, decide that they cannot consent to the application made, either as to education or as to Examination for Licences and Degrees.’
I am, Yours very truly, W. C. M. ARNISON, M.D., Secretary.”
St. Andrews seemed more hopeful. Professor Campbell, as we know, was more than favourable; so was Professor Baynes; there is a thoroughly encouraging letter from Principal Tulloch at this time as to the prospects; and Professor Birrell wrote “in a friendly spirit to the cause which has been ennobled by the rare spirit with which you and your friends have fought a hard fight in its defence.”
One wonders whether he had the faintest idea how hard the fight had been.
In any case opposition proved too strong, and nothing was done at St. Andrews.
One must remember that the full equipment of the medical side of the University was a big financial undertaking; and, although the women were prepared to bear their share, they were naturally unwilling to do this without some pledge that they would not be left stranded in the first emergency. Moreover, they were anxious not to lose time, and above all things St. Andrews was unwilling to be hurried.
Dr. King Chambers urged the women to get their classes somehow—anyhow, and then to “practise boldly as unregistered practitioners who are ready to submit to examination when called upon.”
A heroic piece of advice all round. One hopes the unregistered practitioners would be allowed breathing space “when called upon” to refresh their recollection—for instance—of the preparations of opium!
Meanwhile Mrs. Thorne was working hard to arrange classes in Edinburgh, and—failing the University degree—to secure for women the Licence of the Royal Colleges of Physicians and Surgeons—a privilege which was actually granted some dozen years later. She and others were also enquiring about the possibilities of the Apothecaries’ Society of London and the Apothecaries’ Hall of Ireland, and, with a view to this, S. J.-B. went the length of securing a legal apprenticeship to her old friend and teacher, Mr. Salzmann of Brighton, who was most anxious to help her if he could. In fact no stone was left unturned.
The women students were really so restrained, so admirable, through all this, that it is a positive relief to come upon the following outburst some months later from Miss Pechey:
“Langham, Colchester, October 12th. 1873.
MY DARLING SOPH,
Since I saw you I have indeed suffered many things of many physicians, and my temper is no better but rather worse. It is, however, gradually working down to its normal again. If I could only have spoken my mind when they talked their conceited bosh about their infinite superiority, and said,—‘Do you know what a poor fool you are making of yourself?’—it wouldn’t have been so hard; but to sit still, smiling benignantly, when men, commonplace enough, goodness knows, in everything but their uncommon stupidity, boasted of their mental capacity!—it was no wonder that, having to bottle it all up, while I mused the fire burned. They are so like the fools that David had to contend with that I can’t help quoting him.”
After reporting progress, she goes on: “Still I would not have Mrs. Thorne stop in her arrangements for classes in Edinburgh, as I think we have no chance, the influence of the medical men being so much against us.
Yes, I am curious. I wonder what it is. Perhaps another hopdog? The other died this morning,—poor thing, it had had to go too long without food, and even fresh hops did not revive it.
Please give my love to Scrap....
I will telegraph to you when I hear from S.
Yours lovingly, EDITH.”
Meanwhile the great decision of the Edinburgh Lords had been formally given. The Lord Justice-General, being Chancellor of the University, gave no judgment, but the Lord Justice-Clerk and four others, including all the remaining judges of the First Division were in favour of the women students. The seven remaining judges, including Lord Mure and Lord Shand, were against the women students; so the case was lost by the usual “narrow majority.”
The adverse judgment was based mainly on the opinion that the University Court had, in 1869, done an illegal thing in admitting women to the University at all, and on this ground the authorities were held excused from all responsibility towards the women themselves.
As we look back on the episode after all these years, the point that stands out is the brave and luminous judgment of the Lord Justice-Clerk, of which the following is, from our point of view, the most interesting passage:
“To deny the women students the degree which was essential to their entering the profession, and with a view to which they had studied, on the pretext—for it was no better—that no such end was ever contemplated, was entirely unjust and unwarranted; and that all the more that all the evils said to be connected with the admission of females to the University attached only to the study which was permitted, while the honour could injure no one, and was only valuable as the passport to the medical profession, with which, as a body, the defenders had no concern. That this question of graduation, from whatever cause, was in reality the sole matter in dispute, was sufficiently evident from the pleading of the defenders themselves. No doubt they devoted a large portion of their argument to prove that women never had been, and never ought to be, admitted to University study; but in the sequel they disclosed with sufficient frankness that if the pursuers would have contented themselves with mere certificates of proficiency, and would have abandoned their claim for graduation, they might possibly have fared better. This alternative implied university study, and, therefore, as graduation was the cardinal point in the case, his opinion was that, on completing the curriculum as matriculated students, the pursuers were entitled by the existing rules of the University to be admitted to graduation, and, indeed, he had found little of argument addressed to prove the contrary. This, in his opinion, was sufficient for the decision of this case. It was, however, maintained by the defenders that the University Court had no power to pass these regulations; they said that by the constitution of the University no woman could be admitted either for study or for graduation, and that the regulations and all that has followed upon them were therefore a mere nullity, and could receive no effect. He thought this answer entirely irrelevant. Questions might no doubt arise between the superior and subordinate powers in the University as to the legality of the former’s orders, and these might legitimately be called in question. But, when a student had entered the University, and had duly conformed to the rules on the faith of which he entered, it would be no defence on the part of the Senatus to his claim to graduate that the rules under which he had been admitted were liable to legal objection. The duty of the Senatus was to obey the de facto law of the University, and any other principle would be not only subversive of academical discipline, but would lead to the greatest injustice, as he thought was the case here. The matriculation of the student created an implied contract between him and the University authorities that, if he complied with the existing rules, they would confer the benefits in the hope of which he resorted to the University. They could not, after the student had performed his part of the engagement, refuse to fulfil theirs, on the ground that the contract was made under rules which it was beyond the power of their academical superiors to make. They could not compel the student, as a condition of his graduation, to take upon himself the defence of the laws of the University; his sole duty was to obey them, and if their lawfulness was disputed, that must be done in a question with those who made them, not with the student who trusted to them.”
The women students were ordered to pay the expenses of the appeal: and thus ended the hard fought “Battle in Edinburgh.”
XVII. THE QUESTION IN PARLIAMENT
How far S. J.-B. was depressed in mind and body by the events of that wearing fight, we can fairly guess. But nothing had happened to disturb in the smallest degree her faith,—her philosophy of life. She never doubted that she was fighting the battle of the Lord; but—greatly though she hoped, sure though she felt of final victory for her cause—she was always, in the background of her being, absolutely prepared for the defeat of any one of her plans. In the thick of the combat, she seemed so engrossed that comrades and onlookers were wont to say,—“Defeat will kill her,” but this was a complete misunderstanding of her attitude. The moment defeat came, it was accepted as simply the will of God, though it well might be that God still meant her to try again.
In the occasional great affairs of later life it was positively startling to contrast her apparent inability to recognize another side to the question at issue with her instant acceptance of an adverse decision when it came. But for the vital record we now possess of her youth, most people would have had no clue. She was not ordinarily taken for a religious woman; but it is simply true that the watchword of her life—passively and actively—was Fiat voluntas tua.
She was one of those who pray; but she would have thought it wrong to pray for the success of a definite scheme, for the life of a friend, even—in the hour of her greatest need—for the renewal of a broken friendship.
And indeed there was always some comfort at hand, quite apart from the highest philosophy. To the end of her life the words were often on her lips, “You see we had such excellent friends”; and though some few adherents were estranged because they thought the battle was being fought too pugnaciously, others became increasingly impressed by the extraordinary constancy shown by the fighters, and, in particular, by the protagonist’s rare and individual type of unworldliness, an unworldliness which, just because it was individual, often made life rather difficult for her supporters.
Here is a letter from one of the Edinburgh professors, who in the early days had begged S. J.-B. not to speak harshly of an Alma Mater of which she would yet be proud, and who, later, had congratulated her on a book which “tells a very sad and disgraceful story, and tells it clearly and temperately and effectively,—all the more effectively because your justifiable indignation is kept well within bounds”:
“Edinburgh, 21 Oct. 1873.
DEAR MADAM,
I send you herein a cheque for five pounds towards the law expenses of the lady medical students in the recent trial.
If I had the misfortune to be a member of the University Court, I should think myself bound in honour to pay my individual proportion of the whole expense incurred by these ladies in consequence of their supposing that this learned Court knew the extent of its own powers. Horace’s words, ‘Delirant reges, plectuntur Achivi,’ may in this case be rendered, ‘The University Court blundered, and the Ladies are mulcted in the costs.’ If any sense of justice is still extant in this country, the result must be, not only the payment of these costs by public subscription, but a more than ever energetic agitation for the overthrow of male monopoly in the medical profession.
Yours most truly, W. B. HODGSON.
Miss Stevenson.”
Immediately after the legal decision had been given, the Spectator took up the question in an article “Women’s Wrongs at Edinburgh,” of which the following sentences give the gist:
“To canvass the legality of the judgment itself is alike beyond the present writer’s competency and his wish, though it may be permitted to remark that the best known names are found in the minority, and that the reasonings on the other side, while turning on a very narrow principle, are exceedingly discursive and inconsequent.
... The Senate included some staunch friends of the lady students, and about an equal number of resolute opponents, but the indifferent majority who swayed the action of the body appears to have had no aim except to hush up a troublesome affair. Their policy was to do all they could to oblige the applicants, meanwhile trusting to the chapter of accidents to escape the difficulties that might come after.”
This was shrewd and true.
Within a few days a long and exhaustive review of the position and its possibilities, from the pen of Mrs. Garrett Anderson, appeared in the Times, in the course of which the writer urged that the time was not ripe for the medical education of women in Great Britain, and that “in no way could women better serve the cause we desire to promote than by going to Paris to study medicine, and returning here as soon as might be to practise it.” “Never,” she said, “was there a case in which the truth of the adage, ‘Solvitur ambulando,’ was more likely to make itself felt.” [In the spirit of Professor Hodgson’s translation of Horace, one may say, in fact, that “the difficulty might be solved by crossing the Channel.”]
Of course S. J.-B. did not agree with her, and she wrote a detailed reply[113] which Jupiter supported with a leading utterance in his own name. He was not enthusiastic about women doctors at all, but in this particular difference of opinion he gave his vote for the “equally deserving, but hitherto less fortunate aspirant to the position of a legally qualified practitioner.”[114]
Footnote 113:
Appendix E.
Footnote 114:
“In this case, as in most others, those who say they want a thing must put their own shoulders to the wheel in order to obtain it, and must be prepared to back the soundness of their opinions. If only twenty women annually could be added to the ranks of the medical profession in this country, the expediency of the addition would be speedily removed from the domain of controversy, and the expression, ‘Solvitur ambulando,’ which Mrs, Anderson calls an adage, would be applicable to the case.”
Times, August 23rd, 1873.
S. J.-B. knew more of the hidden springs than anyone, and she did not consider that the time had come to give in. She who had borne the brunt of so many disappointments was still full of hope. She wanted her own country to give her this thing. Above all she felt that “so long as no means of education are provided at home, only a very small number of women will ever seek admission to the profession.”
“This last consideration,” she says, “was to me conclusive.”
“I greatly admire your letter to Mrs. G. Anderson,” wrote Professor Hodgson, “and I am truly glad to see that you are not so despondent as I am. The passive power of resistance on the part of those who hold a position is terribly difficult to overcome. It is not mere inertia; that would be bad enough. Ultimate success I do not at all despair of, but individual life is short and the journey is long and arduous.”
Both Times and Spectator spoke severely of the behaviour of the University, and on September 1st an apologia appeared from the pen of the Principal. It was just the letter one might have expected from an able, urbane, scholarly gentleman; he scanned the whole history “as we do our own poetry, laying stress on the right syllables and passing lightly over a halting foot.” It would have been a fine and conclusive defence,—if Jupiter had not allowed a poor overworked medical student to answer it. The two letters represent two conflicting schools of historians, the one sweeping, picturesque, probable: the other definite, statistical, true. The former is certainly the easier to read. The correspondence is so essentially typical of many of the “disputes” S. J.-B. had with others in the course of her life that it is given in full in the appendix.[115]
Footnote 115:
Appendix F.
“I have seen the Venerable Principal’s letter,” wrote a distinguished lawyer from Uig, “for even in these uttermost parts of the earth the Scotsman has reached me, and I need not say what I thought of it. I read also with great satisfaction your thorough demolition of the learned and venerable and inaccurate gentleman, and the Scotsman’s excellent punching of his head.”
S. J.-B. spent part of that summer holiday visiting Norfolk cousins, and she took the opportunity to read a paper on her special subject at the Social Science Congress at Norwich, under the auspices of her friend, Professor Hodgson, who was President of the Education Section.[116] Here she made two friendships of great value,—one with Miss Louisa Hubbard, whose sister, Lady Rendel, had been S. J.-B.’s schoolfellow; the other, even more memorable, with Miss Pauline Irby, who was just entering upon her heroic and self-sacrificing life work in Bosnia. In October S. J.-B. returned to Edinburgh to clinch the arrangements Mrs. Thorne was making for the winter session.
Footnote 116:
Lord Houghton was President of the Congress. In a letter to his wife, dated October 3rd, 1873, he says, “Miss Jex-Blake and Mrs. Grey both spoke capitally.” Lord Houghton’s Life, vol. ii. p. 281.
It is one more instance of the extraordinary, dogged perseverance of those women that during that winter session the lectures were delivered to women as before by Edinburgh Extra-Mural lecturers, the subjects being Materia Medica, Pathology and Midwifery. S. J.-B. attended these lectures when she could, and took honours in all of them; but she was already in correspondence with Dr. Anstie and others as to the possibility of opening some school for women in the larger and more impersonal milieu of London. As a matter of fact, the whole centre of interest had changed. The question was now potentially before Parliament,—not indeed as a question of practical politics to be decided by the rank and file, but as a matter for private discussion by a few men of courage and vision.
“It was necessary,” wrote Mr. Stansfeld in reviewing the history three years later,[117] “to appeal to a yet higher tribunal. Such appeal might have been made on the question of law to the House of Lords; but that would have meant further indefinite delay and further heavy expense, and then, if the result were favourable, a probable refusal of the university to act on their ascertained powers. It was necessary to secure the admission of women to medical study and practice, and not merely to ascertain that one out of nineteen examining bodies could admit them if it liked. Miss Jex-Blake and her friends determined to widen their appeal, to base it on the ground of right, and to address it to Parliament and to public opinion.”
Footnote 117:
“Medical Women,” by the Right Hon. James Stansfeld, M.P., Nineteenth Century, July, 1877.
As early as August 1872 Sir David Wedderburn (on behalf of Sir Robert Anstruther) had moved that the vote for the Scottish Universities should be reduced by the amount of the salaries of the Edinburgh Medical Professors. He explained that the motion was brought forward in order to lay before the House the course followed by the authorities of the University of Edinburgh, but that, in view of the fact that the Lord Ordinary, had, a few days before, given a judgment in favour of the ladies, he hoped the University would accept the decision as final and as indicating to them their duties in the matter; and he would therefore refrain from pressing the motion to a division.
When the University appealed against the Lord Ordinary’s decision, and got it reversed on appeal, Sir David Wedderburn, on July 29th, 1873, gave notice that he would, early in the following session, bring in a Bill to grant to the Scottish Universities the power they were now supposed not to possess, to educate women in medicine and to grant to them the ordinary medical degrees.
It was highly desirable, of course, to secure Government support for this Bill, and in October we find S. J.-B. in correspondence with the Home Secretary. There is a long letter marked “Private” in which Mr. Lowe (Lord Sherbrooke) expresses his view of the matter, and asks her to let him know what course she proposes to follow. Shortly after, we get the following:
“Secretary of State, Home Department. Oct. 13. 1874.
MY DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
I have done what I can to forward your views. I should think you would be met by the same legal difficulty in Ireland as in Scotland. But though it may not be very agreeable to my constituents I should have no objection if this were the only obstacle to introduce an enabling Bill giving all Universities the power if they please to confer medical degrees or indeed any other degrees on women.
Believe me, Very truly yours, ROBERT LOWE.”
Clearly she was eager to follow up the opening, for ten days later he writes again:
“I am afraid I cannot commit the Government to introducing the Bill without consulting them. I will do so at the Cabinets which will take place next month and tell you the result.”[118]
“The matter has been discussed to-day,” writes Mr. Stansfeld on Dec. 1st, “but nothing is settled; I apprehend difference of opinion....
I should advise personal communication with members of the Government before January Cabinets. A concise but complete and temperate statement in favour of legislation would, I think, be useful.”
Footnote 118:
Mr. Lowe’s advocacy was strengthened by a fine memorial presented to him at this time by 471 graduates of the University of London, praying that the benefits of the University should be extended to women. This memorial was secured through the exertions of Dr. Alfred Shewen.
So, early in January, S. J.-B. went up to London to interview ministers and others.
“Jan. 7th. Wednesday. Mr. Lowe, 4 p.m. Very cordial and courteous. Would certainly bring in a Bill if his colleagues allowed him,—very doubtful if they would,—if not, would help Wedderburn all he could, ‘and I can do a great deal.’
Thought Enabling Bill more hopeful than compelling Medical Boards to examine.”
“Jan. 10th. Saturday. In morning at Museum, looking up Charters of Colleges, etc.
2 p.m. Sir J. Lubbock. Pleasant and friendly,—non-committal rather. Would talk with Wedderburn,—‘generally agreed with him.’
At 4 p.m. Stansfeld. Friendly as ever. Thought Selborne’s opinion most important.”
After a few days spent with Mrs. Jex-Blake at Brighton the tale proceeds:
“Tuesday, 20th. At 1 p.m. saw Lord Aberdare,—quite friendly,—‘should heartily support Bill.’ Was quite willing that Bill should come from his office, by Forster.
2 p.m. Grant Duff, friendly but not encouraging as to his power to help with Cabinet.
Wednesday 21st. Saw Thos. Hughes, 10 a.m. Very friendly. Would speak to Forster, etc....
Thursday 22nd. Breakfasted with the Russell Gurneys. Very friendly. He quite ready to put his name on back of Wedderburn’s Bill. On the whole encouraged to get special Exam. and practise in spite of Act, if no legislation to be got.[119]
11 a.m. Lady Selborne—‘knew nothing about’ our question,—laughed at the idea of my seeing the Chancellor—but listened fairly to what I had to say,—seemed impressed by the facts and by the attention of the other ministers,—promised to report fairly what I had said.
Not specially courteous or gracious, but I think honest.”
“8.30 p.m. express from King’s Cross to Edinburgh.
Friday 23rd. Illuminations, etc., for Duke of Edinburgh’s wedding day.
Saturday, 24th. Dissolution! What next?”
Footnote 119:
“I was very much troubled by your last letter,” wrote Dr. Sewall a month later, “for the idea of your beginning to practise without a diploma seems to me such a mistake. It appears to me that by practising illegally in that way, you will be giving up all you have been fighting for, and will be opening a way that some women who have not studied thoroughly may use; and there will be no way of your showing the public the difference between your qualifications.”
It was only too true. The time of reaction had come after a long period of reforming energy under Mr. Gladstone, and now—failing to find an adequate rallying cry for his party—he dissolved Parliament and appealed to the country. In the confusion of the moment the Home Secretary did not forget the women students.
“MY DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
I am sorry to say that in the present state of things it is quite impossible for me to bring in a Bill on your subject or indeed on any other. I don’t think you will find much difficulty in getting a man.
I congratulate you on your brother’s appointment.[120]
Very truly yours, R. LOWE.”
Footnote 120:
To the Headmastership of Rugby.
This was followed on February 10th by a letter from Mr. Stansfeld:
“DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
The Conservatives will certainly come in and for a long time. I should have thought that Russell Gurney might not improbably now be placed upon the Bench. I don’t suppose that a political appointment would suit him; unless it were that of Speaker and I have not heard his name mentioned for it.
I think you can’t do better than ask him, saying at the same time that you cannot but see that the coming political change may make it out of his power to comply.
It is all very extraordinary and mortifying.
Yours truly, J. STANSFELD.”
The suggested letter was roughly drafted forthwith:
“To Russell Gurney.
Will you forgive me if, at such a busy and engrossing time, I venture to trouble you about our comparatively small affairs, very important as they are to us.
You are, of course, aware that Sir David Wedderburn is no longer in Parliament,[121] and I suppose it is quite certain that the present Government must go out, so that Mr. Lowe cannot at least introduce the Bill as Home Secretary, and thus on both hands our prospects are at an end.
I venture, however, to rely on the kind interest you expressed in our cause, and to ask you whether it would be possible for you to induce the Conservative Government to take it up, or, if not, whether we might hope for your personal help still farther in the matter,—if you do not take office, as I hear you may. I think Mr. Lowe would be willing to help us as a private member, and it occurred to me as possible that you and he might take up the Bill jointly so as to conciliate both sides of the House.
I am personally very ignorant of political matters, and of what could and what could not be done. I shall feel it the greatest possible favour if you will kindly tell me how far you can help us in this matter, and will give me any advice on the subject which may occur to you. It is of extreme importance to us that the Bill should, if passed at all, be passed as soon as possible, as it will at any rate be difficult enough to make arrangements in time for next winter’s session, and we can ill afford to lose another year.
I trust that you will at least excuse me for thus troubling you.
Yours truly obliged, S. J.-B.”
Footnote 121:
Sir David Wedderburn did not offer himself for re-election.
A most gracious answer to this arrived without loss of time:
“Queen’s Hotel, Hastings, 13th. Feb.
DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
Although politically opposed to Sir D. Wedderburn, yet for your sake and for that of the cause which he so faithfully supported I can sincerely regret the loss of his seat.
I really do not know what course to advise you to pursue. My absence from Parliament during nearly the whole of the two last Sessions makes it more difficult for me than it would have otherwise have been.
I should think that it would scarcely be possible to get the new Government as a Government to take up the measure. Coming in at the time they do they will be sure to take up as few measures as possible. If a Bill is brought in by Mr. Lowe or anyone else I would not only support it but use any little influence I may have with the Ministry to induce them not to oppose it.
The state of my health is such that I cannot undertake to take charge of the Bill. I have come here in order to get a little rest before the Meeting of Parliament and I am under positive orders from my doctor to avoid all extra work.
I fear indeed that during the next Session I am likely to be a somewhat useless member.
I shall always be ready to consult with you, though at present I confess that I do not see my way.
Believe me, Very sincerely yours, RUSSELL GURNEY.”
It was characteristic of the vicissitudes of S. J.-B.’s life at the time that within a few days of receiving this letter she had a telegram from Mrs. Jex-Blake’s physician at Brighton: “Your Mother is very poorly. I should like you to come.”
This was delivered at 8 p.m., and it is needless to say that she started by the night train. A fortnight of anxious nursing followed; but her affairs were not forgotten:
“Local Government Board, Whitehall. Feb. 24. 74.
DEAR MASSON,
I have heard, of course, also from Miss Jex-Blake. I won’t say ‘No’ at any rate at present.
First I will see Lowe and ascertain his mind; and then I should like to see if someone more acceptable to Dizzy cannot be found. I think one must look around one first in the new Parliament, before deciding.
Is not the Bill you propose simply one enabling Universities to grant Degrees to women; or what else do you propose?
Whether it is good or bad I should tell you that the wirepulling and newspaper doctors hate me.
Yours ever, J. STANSFELD.”
“Feb. 25th. 74.
DEAR MASSON,
I have seen Lowe about your proposed Bill.
He is ‘heartily’ for it, but thinks that he and I had better support and not originate. Just now, he says, whatever we do will probably be considered wrong, as the tide is against us, and for this reason none of these Bills should be introduced by any of us ex-cabinet ministers. Moreover if any of them are to pass they must be made as little unacceptable as possible to Dizzy & Co., which means that they had better be proposed and seconded by men on either side of the House—one on one side and one on the other—but not by us.
I must say that the more I think of it the more I find this reasoning sound. And I am prepared to advise therefore that you should not ask either Lowe or me.
As to myself there is another special reason, to which I have already referred, why it might be more prudent not to choose me, viz. that ‘the doctors’ hate me; and tho’ I can’t see exactly how that fact might operate, it might at least be admitted that it might operate unfavourably, and that therefore it would be safer to look elsewhere.
I won’t write to Miss Jex-Blake yet, but will wait to hear from you what you think.
Of course I would willingly support and help.
Yours ever, J. STANSFELD.”
“10, Regent Terrace, Edinr. Feb. 26, 1874.
DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
I have had two letters from Mr. Stansfeld, which I enclose. The second, you will see, is less favourable than the first, though not absolutely conclusive. In reply I have expressed my belief that the second objection—that about his relation to the ‘doctors’—can matter little, inasmuch as we can’t expect anyone who takes up the cause to be a darling of the doctors or to remain one[122]; but on the other objection I have not felt able to say much against the experienced instinct of Mr. Lowe and himself. On the one side there may be a good deal in their feeling that for an ex-minister of the Gladstone Cabinet to move the Bill may move Disraeli to criticism, if not to opposition; on the other it seems essential that the lead should be taken by an eminent and faithful man. You will weigh the whole matter in London and consult.
I daresay it will be best not to publish the Memorial to Disraeli till the receipt of it is acknowledged. I have all the renewed signatures[123] now except the Edinburgh ones; and these, I hope, will be completed today or tomorrow.
Yours very truly, DAVID MASSON.”
Footnote 122:
We must never forget that a minority of doctors had been helpful all along. Years before this a petition to Parliament in favour of the women had been signed by nearly two hundred.
Footnote 123:
The Memorial had been originally addressed to Gladstone.
“Stoke Lodge, Hyde Park Gate, W. Feb. 28. 74.
DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
I could see you either on Monday or Tuesday afternoon. But where? For the Local Government Board knows me no more.
I shall be working at the Athenaeum on Monday afternoon, and could therefore easily call on you anywhere in town.
I could see you here on the Tuesday and could make any time convenient, but the morning would be most so.
Pray let me know.
I enclose Mr. Lowe’s and Mr. Russell Gurney’s notes. You have heard from Masson, I presume. I wrote after seeing Lowe. But I will postpone telling you of our interview till we meet.
Yours truly, J. STANSFELD.”
A sharp little illness made it difficult for Mr. Stansfeld to pursue the matter for a week or two, but finally we get the following:
“15 Gt. Stanhope Street, W. March 21.
DEAR STANSFELD,
I am quite ready to take up the case of the women students if a good Bill can be framed, and I shall have to see you on Monday at the House.
Ever yours, W. COWPER TEMPLE.”
[Telegram] “March 23rd. Cowper Temple, Great Stanhope Street to Miss Jex-Blake, 15 Buccleuch Place, Edinburgh.
Can you tell me a lawyer who knows the subject and will frame the Bill or advise about it.”
This was apparently followed by a letter, for, at the earliest possible moment on March 24th, S. J.-B. sent down a note by hand to her solicitor:
“DEAR MR. MILLAR,
An eminent M.P. has undertaken to bring in an Enabling Bill to enable Universities to educate and graduate women on the same terms as men, and I have just got a letter asking me to send up a draft of such Bill. As you are the best authority on such matters I should like to see you at once about it, and should be extremely glad if you could sketch out a draft beforehand, as time is of the greatest moment.
Could I see you if I called between 12.30 and 1 p.m.?
Yrs. truly, S. JEX-BLAKE.”
The Draft Bill seems to have been posted that afternoon, and the following day another telegram arrived:
“March 25th. Rt. Hon. Stansfeld, London, to Miss Jex-Blake, 15 Buccleuch Place, Edinburgh.
I have seen Mr. Cowper Temple and we advise you to come and see him.”
So of course S. J.-B. travelled up to London next day.
[Diary] “March 26th. Summoned up to London about Cowper Temple’s Bill. He very kind, plenty of good will.... Stansfeld admirable. Gurney do., only from health inactive. Lowe, Gallio-like.”
A day or two later S. J.-B. dined with the Cowper Temples and details were threshed out.
“I am so glad,” writes Miss M‘Laren, “that you have succeeded so well, and find Mr. Cowper Temple such a nice man and energetic besides,—and trust all may go well. I am not afraid of opposition at all, but what I do fear is that at this late season it may not get through.”
“Broadlands. April 15.
To Miss Jex-Blake:
... Mr. Ewing consented when I explained the Bill to him, and his name with that of Mr. Gurney and Dr. Cameron are on the back of the Bill. I am not very sanguine of success if a serious opposition should be manifested, but I have hopes that the moderation of the measure may have the effect of not calling forth the latent antagonism that exists against the cause.
But whether the Bill passes or not, it must advance the cause, for at least we shall have a good debate on the subject.
I talked to Sir W. Maxwell when I first thought of undertaking a Bill and I found that he took the view that in his representative position as Rector of Edinburgh University he ought not to take a part in a question in which there is so much difference of opinion and warmth of feeling. I have fixed Friday 24th for the second reading, but am not at all sure that it can come on that evening as there will be many questions before it.
I return to London tomorrow.
Yours—[illegibly], W. C. TEMPLE.
The names on the back of the Bill are
Mr. Cowper Temple, Mr. Russell Gurney, Mr. Orr Ewing, Dr. Cameron.”
There was much discussion as to the desirability of keeping quiet about the Bill, and allowing it to slip through, if possible, without arousing all the energies of the opposition.
“10 Regent Terrace, Edinburgh. April 1, 1874.
DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
Best thanks for your letter. From what it says and from what I had heard before to the same effect from Miss M‘Laren, I have not the least doubt of the practical wisdom of the limitation of the Bill to the Scottish Universities. The difficulty of taking such differently- constituted Universities along in the Bill has struck me so far; but I had not thought of the special difficulty that might arise from jealousy of the divided powers of the University of London. But, while our Bill goes on alone, there is no reason why the other universities should not be moving, each for itself, and all such movement would help ours.
I am not so sure of the policy of silence about our Bill. Miss M‘Laren will have told you that Dr. Lyon Playfair has alarmed our people here by informing them of it, and asking their opinion. There is a Committee on watch with power to call a Senatus meeting when the Bill is perfectly known. Possibly, when they see it, they may feel inclined to do nothing, seeing that it only legitimises the power the University thought it possessed when it passed the regulations; but no one can tell. All that Dr. L. P. wanted was advice for himself; and nothing, even of that kind, can be done collectively, except by Senatus—as the Committee is for observation only. Still the matter is public; and individuals may be at work. Also the fact and drift of the Bill have been mentioned in the newspapers, e.g. by the London correspondent of the Glasgow Mail. If, in these circumstances, you are of opinion that the memorial to Mr. Disraeli may be published, please return my copy with the signatures; and I will send it to our three papers here—where perhaps it ought to appear first. But you will, of course, act with the advice of Mr. Cowper Temple and others; and I won’t publish till you give the word. Anyhow it might be best to return the memorial to me. A telegraph from you would then tell me to publish any day—if not immediately.
Yours very truly, DAVID MASSON.”
“April 15, 1874.
DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
After reading today the Scotsman’s report of the introduction of the Bill, and observing how quietly and cautiously it seems to be framed (‘to remove doubts as to the powers’ etc.)[124] I have thought it better not at once to publish the memorial. If there is any possibility that the Bill will be let through without opposition, our memorial, as more strongly expressed, might interfere with this. At all events I have thought it most prudent not to be in a hurry, but to wait a day or two till we see how Mr. C. T.’s Bill is received among the probable enemies. Very likely they will move against it somehow,— secretly if not publicly; and, if we find this, then our memorial ought to come out as a contribution to the argument. You will perhaps hear how Dr. Lyon Playfair and Mr. Gordon act in London: I will observe here. Perhaps I am prudent in excess; but, once the memorial is out, it is past recall.
Yours very truly, DAVID MASSON.”
Footnote 124:
“A Bill to Remove Doubts as to the Powers of the Universities of Scotland to admit Women as Students, and to grant Degrees to Women.”
“83 Belgrave Road, S.W. 16th April, 1874.
DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
The bill has been introduced by Mr. Cowper Temple, and my name is one of those on its back. If it could be smuggled through it would of course save a great deal of time and trouble, but I am afraid it is of no use to think of that. The moment it is published the bill will be telegraphed to all the Scotch papers, and every professor in every university, and almost every medical man throughout Scotland, will perceive its drift. Moreover you must remember that the Lord Advocate is member for Glasgow and Aberdeen University, and will have to keep his constituents well posted up in everything affecting their interests. If I see anything concerning the measure in the Scotch papers, I shall forward it to you, and meanwhile remain
Yours very sincerely, CHARLES CAMERON.
Miss Jex-Blake.”
So the glove was thrown down, and, as Dr. Cameron had predicted, the news of it was instantly flashed from Dan to Beersheba. In a very short time 65 petitions in favour of the Bill were presented to Parliament, three of these being from the Town Councils of Edinburgh, Aberdeen, and Linlithgow. There was also one from the City of Edinburgh, and one from 16,000 women. The most important, perhaps, was from twenty-six Professors of Scottish Universities, including eight (out of fourteen) Professors of the University of St. Andrews,—among them the Rev. Principal Tulloch,—and thirteen Professors of the University of Edinburgh. If Glasgow was poorly represented in number, the women had all the more reason to be proud of the weight of the two names,—John and Edward Caird. There was also a petition from those Edinburgh lecturers who had actually taught the women.
Against the Bill there were four petitions:
1. From the University Court of Edinburgh.
2. From the Senatus of Edinburgh University.
3. From the Medical Faculty of the Senatus (probably identical with 2).
4. From the University of Glasgow.
The second reading of the Bill was fixed for April 24th, but at the urgent request of Dr. Lyon Playfair, member for the University of Edinburgh, it was postponed to a later date (“in order that his University might have time to consider the subject”!) when the pressure of business made it impossible to secure any day: or, as Miss M‘Laren had predicted, it failed to “get through.” And so the whole question was practically shelved for another year.
There was an interesting debate on the motion, however, on June 12th, 1874, when able speeches were made by Mr. Cowper Temple, Mr. Stansfeld and others,—the two members for Edinburgh (Town and Gown) providing an almost dramatic contrast.
Mr. M‘Laren (Town), hard-headed, shrewd man of business, bluntly declared that “if it were a question to be decided by the intelligent inhabitants of Edinburgh, nine-tenths would vote in its favour.... If two or three of the professors would only take a voyage round the world, the whole question would be satisfactorily settled before they returned. (Laughter.) Where the male students paid three or four guineas for each class, the ladies paid eight or ten guineas, so that money was no obstacle. There was no difficulty, in fact, except want of will, and that arose from medical prejudice,—at least that was the opinion of the great majority of the people in Edinburgh.”
Dr. Lyon Playfair (Gown), scholar, courtier, man-of-the-world, had a harder task. Even Punch was moved to sympathy with him “as one in a perplexity between his constituents and his convictions.”
* * * * *
In any case the whole question had entered on a new phase, there was fresh enthusiasm for the cause, and, on the other hand, those who had looked upon the idea of women doctors as an amusing absurdity, were roused to perturbation and alarm.
XVIII. THE LONDON SCHOOL OF MEDICINE FOR WOMEN
It is a terrible thing for a hasty, impulsive, faulty human being to be placed as S. J.-B. was at this time, in a difficult position—on a slippery ridge, as it were—in the eye of the whole world. It has been said before that few people ventured to “lecture” her: she liked to hear the truth, and, when her friends were prepared to risk all, she took their faithful dealing magnanimously, often nobly: but somehow she made adverse criticism very difficult. It was said of her that she would have made an excellent advocate,—she had so keen an eye for the strong points of her own position and the weak points of those of her adversaries; and it is only fair to say that, in conversation with her, many people might well be simply carried away. In a sort of esprit d’escalier—or jugement d’escalier—they might see the other side of the question, and sometimes they wrote a qualifying letter to say so; but we know how few people are prepared in life to take that amount of trouble in a matter that does not intimately concern themselves. It is so much easier to sympathize with those who confide to us their troubles and difficulties, and then to vent our jugement d’escalier on the man we meet in the street below. In the course of her life S. J.-B. got more than her share of that kind of sympathy.
We have seen that, in the matter of her examination the year before, she did not admit the justice of her rejection. She was supported in this attitude by the opinion of three or four lecturers and examiners in the subjects for which she had entered, who had read her papers and had cordially pronounced them—in writing—to be up to or above the pass standard. Hundreds of people had, of course, expressed to her their belief that she had not been fairly treated, and their sympathy had steadily intensified the impression in her own mind. She would have accepted Huxley’s verdict loyally, if all the papers handed in at that examination could have been submitted to him. No one who reads one paper only can possibly say—except by an exercise of faith in his fellow creatures—whether worse papers have been accepted and better rejected, or no. It would have been strange indeed if Huxley had not had that amount of faith in his colleagues.
From the moment of Dr. (afterwards Sir Wyville) Thomson’s appointment to the Chair of Biology, S. J.-B. had dreaded him as an examiner, on the ground that he was altogether adverse to the women. “You will receive no insolence from him,” Professor Tait had written to her in 1871, “but I fear that is all I can say, though it is something.” And previously, “although he is not in your favour, he is not a man to take any mean or unfair advantage.”
She ought, of course, to have accepted this judgment once for all as that of a just man, but from the time of her examination the conviction that she had been unfairly treated never wavered, though the whole matter was, she thought, a thing of the past forever.
In a great controversy, however, nothing may ever be safely assumed to be a thing of the past. It seems to be buried forever, but it lies at the mercy of any chance turn of the spade.
And this brings us back to the point where Dr. Lyon Playfair, “in a perplexity between his constituents and his convictions”—those constituents meaning to all intents and purposes the “two or three Professors” for whom the Member for Edinburgh had recommended a voyage round the world as a means of solving the whole difficulty—Dr. Lyon Playfair had so availed himself of the machinery of Parliament as to shelve the whole question indefinitely.
One quite realizes that by this time it was war to the knife on both sides, and one refrains from unduly criticising either; but it is S. J.- B. whose life we are considering, and there can be no doubt that for her—overworked and overstrained as she was—the situation was very hard to bear.
And now the discussion in Parliament, literally bringing the question “into the range of practical politics,” had stirred up all the latent objection to the idea of women doctors, and had brought every weapon into play. One can dimly conjecture the number and variety of assaults that must have been made on the leading newspapers, and it is small wonder if some of them were sorely unsettled, so much so that “the pulpit spake pure Canterbury in the morning and Geneva in the afternoon.”
Even the Times began to talk of “all the delicacies and best charms” of woman’s nature, and took occasion to say in a leading article, “It is a little amusing, indeed, that one of the Ladies who had rendered herself most conspicuous, should after all have failed under the test of examination.” The writer did not add—perhaps he had not been informed— that three of the fellow-students of that conspicuous Lady had successfully passed the examination in question in a previous year; but the playful taunt—if taunt it was—was more than the generous spirit of one of those successful candidates could stand. She wrote an impulsive letter, mentioning S. J.-B. by name, and explaining that it was “devotion to our cause which led to her failure,” that “she had borne the brunt of the battle, and had spared her fellow-students all the harass and worry of the struggle, and had thus enabled them to enjoy the leisure requisite for passing their examinations.”
Of course the writer should have consulted S. J.-B. before sending this letter to the Times, but apparently it never occurred to her that the defence might not be acceptable to the one defended. In any case, the letter came upon S. J.-B. like a thunderbolt, and she committed the great and crowning mistake of her life,—she wrote a letter to the Times, implying in effect that in the matter of the examination, she did not believe she had been fairly treated.
It was quite a temperate letter from her point of view, but—as her brother had said—she was throwing pebbles at a fortress, and, what was worse, throwing them under the gaze of the whole civilized world.
If Professor Crum Brown had done the Women’s Cause a service by denying to Miss Pechey the name and privileges of Hope Scholar, S. J.-B. had now repaid that service to him and his colleagues, full measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over.
Under the mighty Ægis of the University of Edinburgh, the examiners replied, and Professor Huxley himself entered the controversy in defence of his friend, Dr. Wyville Thomson, who was away on the “Challenger” Expedition at the time.
Miss Pechey was only restrained by prudent friends from publishing a generous letter in which she expressed her conviction that, if Professor Huxley had examined the Edinburgh students, 90 per cent. of them would have failed, and she added a paragraph which shows at least how differently a great institution may look when regarded from two different points of view:
“It is really amusing to those who know anything of the constitution of the University to find [the Examiners] gravely suggesting that [S. J.-B.] could have appealed to the Medical Faculty, the Senatus, and the University Court. The names have an imposing sound, but, when one comes to consider, the Medical Faculty resolves itself into the medical examiners, the Senatus (at that time of the year, before the arts professors had returned for the winter) into the Medical Faculty, whilst the University Court is in reality the mouthpiece of one member who I fear would turn a deaf ear to any appeal from Miss Jex-Blake.”
Well, there it was! If the cause could have been killed, this mistake might probably have killed it. If S. J.-B. could have been crushed, this mistake would have crushed her. But the cause was intensely vital, and S. J.-B. was tough.
One falls back once more on Newman’s brave and comforting words:
“The very faults of an individual excite attention—he loses, but his cause (if good, and he powerful-minded) gains—this is the way of things, we promote truth by a self-sacrifice.”
S. J.-B. was just starting on her holiday when the correspondence took place, and, although Miss Stevenson and Mrs. Thorne both wrote to tell her of the “irreparable” damage it had done, most of her friends and supporters were disposed to let her enjoy her holiday—if she could—in peace.
So, in the silence and repose of a sojourn in Perthshire, she laid her future plans.
* * * * *
As early as December 6th, 1873, Dr. Anstie had written to her:
“DEAR MADAM,
I am afraid I do not see my way to any practical plan at present.
“At Westminster it is quite possible that my colleagues would consent to separate classes. But the fatal objection is want of space; and I could not, I feel sure, persuade them to try the experiment of mixed classes.
I fear there is no way, except by the ladies raising money enough to found a school for themselves. In that case I, and I think others, would be willing to go out of our way to afford them teaching. But the difficulties about clinical teaching seem very great.
I will talk the matter over with my colleague, Mr. Cowell, and write to you again....”
“16 Wimpole Street, Dec. 12th.
DEAR MADAM,
Three or four days of complete prostration with influenza have prevented me from finding time to talk with Mr. Cowell.
But as regards the Westminster Hospital School I think it very unlikely that any proposition would be entertained with regard to surrendering our position as teachers of male students....
I think (so far as I can at present judge) that your best course would be to take some premises in London, and build a thoroughly good school, fit for first-class teaching of the theoretical courses. I believe if that were done you would get teachers. And with that solid evidence of sincerity and energy in your work I believe the hospitals, or some of them, would give way and grant you hospital practice.
But this is only my first crude idea. Believe me,
Yours very faithfully, FRANCIS ED. ANSTIE.”
It is impossible to over-estimate the whole-heartedness with which Dr. Anstie took up the cause. There are numerous letters in which he records the various advances and checks which he experienced in the course of his advocacy. For a time he had hopes of inducing his own School to admit women, but the matter got wind, and an adverse medical paper raised all that latent opposition with which the pioneers were becoming so familiar. From this point of view the discussion in Parliament did, for the moment, as much harm as good, and finally we find Dr. Anstie writing:
“16 Wimpole Street, July 2.
DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
For the moment we are thoroughly defeated, and it may be well to rest on our oars for a little time. You will probably have heard of the rejection by the Senate of U. L. of the proposition about degrees, and I wrote to tell you that I also found it was impossible to induce my colleagues at Westminster to open a female department of the School.
I think there is nothing for it now but to make up your minds to form a school for yourselves. Were that once done I do not think there would be any very great difficulty in obtaining clinical instruction and in becoming recognized by some of the corporations.
I am sorry to have had no better luck as your champion. But there is no doubt just now for some reason or other, a strong current of adverse opinion. As I said before I think you and the other ladies should take counsel with your friends, and (without renewal of the discussion in public) should set to work upon the scheme of a school.
I feel little doubt that, if you could show the positive evidence of energy and resource afforded by the establishment of a separate school in London, you would get both sympathy and teaching help.
Believe me, Yours sincerely, F. E. ANSTIE.”
Mr. Norton, too, of St. Mary’s Hospital, assured S. J.-B. that “a thoroughly good school might be organised, apart from the existing schools, but with friendly lecturers gathered from any or all of them.” This suggestion obviated the very real difficulty of getting fresh lecturers “recognised.”
Mrs. Anderson still thought the time was not ripe: Mrs. Thorne was in Paris[125]: the other students were scattered far and wide for the holidays. From every point of view it seemed imperative that the winter session should be secured: so, with the help of the two men mentioned above and of Dr. King Chambers, S. J.-B. simply did the work herself.
Footnote 125:
Mrs. Thorne on her return tried to dissuade S. J.-B. from making the attempt; but, on finding how much had been done, she gladly coöperated in raising funds.
The record is brief enough,—there has been no entry in the diary since June 23rd: no reference to the Times controversy at all:
“August 11th. Tuesday. To London, in one day [from Perthshire]. To Hampstead. Rested one day.
August 13th. Thursday. To Anstie and Norton. Both encouraging and helpful.”
Follows another of those sheaves of blank pages which always indicate intense activity or preoccupation; and her book, Medical Women, just touches on “an almost incredible amount of search, enquiry and disappointment”; there are various stray lists of lecturers, possible, probable and certain; and then we proceed without farther entry to:
“Sept. 15th. Actually signed lease and got possession of 30 Henrietta[126] Street. Rigged up some kind of beds and slept there that night,—Alice coming from Wales to help me.”
Footnote 126:
The name was afterwards changed to Handel Street, and then to Hunter Street.
Here there is a footnote:
“Miss Irby also came for a night one day this month,—grand, quiet, strong.”
Another blank page or two, and then:
“Oct. 9th. Friday. Entered into 32 Bernard Street,[127] Mother and all. (She nearly extinguished by mattress!)
Oct. 12th. Monday. Opening of London School of Medicine for Women.”
Footnote 127:
The house S. J.-B. had taken as her private residence.
There is no farther entry till 1875. We owe to a stranger, however, the following pleasant description of the School as it was then:
“For the early existence of an institution like this School of Medicine no more appropriate home could in all probability be found within the wide area of London than the curious old house in Henrietta Street. In a central position, within easy reach of museums and libraries, but retired from the bustle of noisy thoroughfares, a range of spacious rooms stretches a long front towards the green sward of an old-fashioned garden. Apartments admirably adapted for the purpose of lecture halls ‘give,’ as the Americans say, from underneath a broad verandah on this pleasant outlook. Cosy in winter, cool in summer, and undisturbed by the sounds of external life always, these rooms should be highly favourable to philosophic contemplation. In the upper story— there is only one above the ground-floor—are several smaller apartments suitable for museums and reading-rooms.”—Daily News, March 13, 1877.
How deep was the impression made upon Miss Irby by that brief visit we gather from a letter written twenty years later (on July 5th, 1894):
“I was on the point of writing to you after the prize-giving at the London School of Medicine for Women. A visit to those premises always recalls to me those few days with you when you stood there alone in almost bare walls, establishing the fort. You would wish nothing better than that the School should go on as it is going on, friends and foes being drawn into it. But I always burn with the recollection of your first days there.”
XIX. THE RUSSELL GURNEY ENABLING ACT
It was at this stage that Mrs. Anderson’s help was so invaluable to the great venture. She had an assured position—social and professional—in the metropolis; and her name carried the weight that belongs to a sane and shrewd and able personality. It is impossible to over-estimate the good she had done to “the Cause” by simply showing that a woman can be a reliable and successful practitioner. She had founded a small hospital for women; but she still thought that the time for the creation of a good medical school for women had not come,—that it would have been better to wait till public opinion was more distinctly in favour of women doctors: and she would have fostered the growth of public opinion by encouraging women to obtain foreign degrees, and to practise in England as unregistered physicians and surgeons.
She was strengthened in this position by the fact that S. J.-B. was not the Founder she would have chosen: she judged the Edinburgh campaign by its net result as regarded the immediate object at which it had aimed, and, so far as Edinburgh University was concerned, that net result was failure. There were those, moreover, who assured her, not without a measure of truth, that Miss Jex-Blake’s impulsiveness (“want of judgment,” “want of temper,” she told S. J.-B.) had done great harm in Edinburgh. She and her informants alike failed, perhaps, at the moment to realize how that same impulsiveness (mistakes and all) had formed the picturesque element that made the popular appeal,—how that same impulsiveness had roused and had borne the brunt of the latent opposition which must have manifested itself sooner or later under the wisest management.
There is abundant contemporary evidence to this effect. Dr. Mary Putnam Jacobi wrote from America:
“You have fortunately been able to interest a much larger and better class of people than have ever bestirred themselves in the matter here. The list of governors of your School is quite imposing. You at least have had the advantage attaching to a conspicuous battle with real and dignified forces engaged on each side; whereas here,—this question, as so many others, has rather dribbled into the sand.”
Miss Pechey, too, after delivering a lecture in Yorkshire a year later, wrote:
“I couldn’t conclude without saying that all we had done towards opening up the medical profession to women was due mainly to Miss Jex- Blake, who had got all the abuse because she had done all the work,—in fact all along she had done the work of three women or (with a grin at the phalanx of men behind)—of ten men! This brought down the house.”
“Mrs. Garrett Anderson is a fine instance of an individual success,” said one of the physicians who assisted the movement in those early days; “but Miss Jex-Blake fights the battle, not for herself, but for all.”
Of course an individual success cannot but assist a movement of the kind quite as surely as any other contribution.
One thing the two pioneers had in common,—a fine honesty and truthfulness: much plain speaking passed between them: and, if it had been possible for two such different natures to see things eye to eye, no want of candour or breadth of view on either side would have prevented it. Here is a sample of their correspondence:
“Hampstead. 21st August, 1874.
DEAR MRS. ANDERSON,
If I kept a record of all the people who bring me cock and bull stories about you, and assure me that you are “greatly injuring the cause,” I might fill as many pages with quotations as you have patience to read, but, beyond defending you on a good many occasions, I have never thought it needful to take much notice of such incidents, still less to retail them to you.
Nor do I much care to know whether or no certain anonymous individuals have confided to you that they lay at my door what you call “the failure at Edinburgh,”—inasmuch as the only people really competent to judge of that point are my fellow-workers and fellow-students, such as Professor Masson, Professor Bennett, Miss Stevenson, Mrs. Thorne, Miss Pechey, Dr. Watson, and Dr. Balfour, and I do not fancy that it is from any of these that you have heard the comments in question.
It can, as I say, serve no purpose whatever to go into this sort of gossip which is very rarely indeed founded on any knowledge of facts; but, quite apart from any such discussion, I am more than willing to say that if, in the opinion of a majority of those who are organizing this new school, my name appears likely to injure its chances of success, I will cheerfully stand aside, and let Mrs. Thorne and Miss Pechey carry out the almost completed plans.
So much for your second objection [to joining the Council of the School] which I have taken first, because I feel that the other is for your own consideration and Dr. Anstie’s, and that it is needless for me to say anything on the point.
In conclusion let me say that I never said it ‘did not signify’ whether you joined the Council (though I did say that I believed the School was already tolerably secure of ultimate success.) I think it of very great importance, both for your credit and ours, that there should, as you say, be no appearance of split in the camp, and I should greatly prefer that your name should appear on the Council with Dr. Blackwell’s and those of the medical men who are helping us.
Believe me, Yours truly, SOPHIA JEX-BLAKE.”
So Mrs. Anderson joined the Council, taking no part in the daily life and work of the School, but bringing to the new venture excellent qualities in which S. J.-B. was lacking, among them the valuable gift for bearing in mind who are the people worth conciliating,—the people with whom one simply must not quarrel.
S. J.-B., on the other hand, brought an amount of practical capacity and experience which the reader can estimate for himself. We have seen what she expected—and got—from her solicitor in the matter of the draft of a Parliamentary Bill: it is not to be supposed that she was less successful with printers, nor with plumbers, carpenters and others. She knew exactly how quickly a proof might be expected in an emergency, and she knew what the printing ought to cost. If there was anything about the printed page that struck the eye as “odd,” she had her finger on the technical defect in a moment, and saw that it was put right. She loved drawing up specifications for tanks, etc., and making her drawing to scale: carpentry was an unfailing joy,—nuts, bolts, staples, screws were as familiar to her as were bourgeois, pica, leads, and other mysteries of the printer’s craft. “I like working for the Doctor,” an Edinburgh joiner said in later years, “she knows what she wants, and she knows when it is well done”; but of course it was only a competent and conscientious workman who could rise to this view of the case. Fortunately life provides a good many of these: when S. J.-B. met one, she valued him as he deserved.
Recalling the early days of the School at a meeting of the Governing Body more than twenty years later, Mr. Norton said:
“Miss Jex-Blake had come to him in 1874 after leaving Edinburgh, and he had then expressed the opinion that if funds were raised and a school established of which all the teachers were recognized by the Examining Boards,—the Apothecaries’ Society would be obliged to admit its students to examination. By the middle of October Miss Jex-Blake had succeeded in obtaining £1300 and in renting 30 Handel Street for the purposes of a School of Medicine for Women. It was her great energy which succeeded in so promptly carrying out the work of starting the School.”
“Mrs. Anderson said she recollected that in those early days she had been timid and had considered the time had not yet arrived for establishing a separate School of Medicine for Women. To organize a School on the slender sum of money raised by Miss Jex-Blake required great optimism....”
So it did. It required much more than optimism. It required a unique capacity for directing and supervising every atom of work done, a unique capacity for getting a full and fair penny’s worth out of every penny, a unique capacity for finding workers who would put their shoulder to the wheel, and do things for love. Chief of these workers always was herself.
After the first Prize-giving Miss M‘Laren writes:
“L[ouisa] S[tevenson] and I have just been saying that no one but you could have done all that work on Wednesday. But indeed there is almost nothing that you don’t do better than everyone else.”
Few even of S. J.-B.’s opponents would have denied that this was true. In everything connected with Board and Business meetings she was an expert. To say one had been trained under her was for many years an invaluable testimonial among those who knew. Her enthusiasm was combined with a clear-sighted grasp of every detail of the situation. Repeatedly one finds Cabinet Ministers and other busy people saying,—“I won’t look at the documents till you come and give me the thread,” “I can’t begin to write the paper till you come and talk me into it,” or words to that effect.
Valuable qualities these: but not necessarily the qualities that create the pleasantest possible atmosphere for those who have been in the habit of slipping through life easily. There must have been a good many then as later who would have been glad on occasion to deal with someone a little less business-like.
In any case the thing was launched, Mr. Norton accepted the office of Dean[128]; there was a staff of able lecturers; and twenty-three students joined during the first year. Mrs. Anderson and others brought much needed financial help; Lord Shaftesbury distributed the prizes at the end of the first winter session; and Lord Aberdare presided at the first meeting of the Governing Body. So far all went well.
Footnote 128:
To the great loss of the medical women—as to many besides—Dr. Anstie died suddenly on September 12th.
Many were the congratulations from Edinburgh and St. Andrews, mingled naturally with regrets that the little social centre at 15 Buccleuch Place seemed permanently broken up. Professor Lewis Campbell and Principal Tulloch were sure the situation as regarded their University had been greatly simplified by the creation of a good School; and Dr. G. W. Balfour wrote:
“I only regret that you will be so far beyond my reach that it will be impossible for me to coöperate actively in your future education,— though I shall always be very glad to do anything I can for you.”
This was one of the rare blank cheques on futurity that are destined to be redeemed to the last farthing.
Professor Masson, too, was keen as ever.
“10 Regent Terrace, Edinr. Oct. 23, 1874.
DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
I had purposed when in London to give myself the pleasure of a visit to the new premises, and to hear from yourself all about the school and its prospects; but I was up on the business of some researches, and had to spend my days, almost to the last, at the British Museum or Record Office. One day I had a glimpse of you in a cab passing the British Museum gate, but too fast and too far off to be stopped. Mrs. Masson who is to be in London for a few days more will certainly make her way to Henrietta Street.
I was very glad indeed to hear of so much success in organizing the new School, and glad also to hear several medical men I met in London speak of it not only approvingly on their own account, but also with a kind of conviction that it would settle matters. Are there not several rocks ahead however? And what about the Apothecaries and their disposition? May they not be acted upon by those opponents in the profession whose opposition is now likely to take the form of permitting women to qualify themselves under a different title to that given to men. The conservatives of the University of London Senate will probably promote this current of opinion.
With best regards to all Edinburgh friends with you,
Believe me, Yours very truly, DAVID MASSON.”
Dr. Masson had put his finger precisely on the difficulty. It was still necessary to secure two indispensable conditions of success,—1. Qualifying Hospital Instruction, and 2. Recognition by some Examining Board. It is clear that even Mr. Norton had no idea when he first espoused the cause how great this double difficulty would prove. Application was made to every one of the nineteen Examining Boards, and to every one application was made in vain. The Hospitals proved equally obdurate. “Why should this University be the corpus vile?” Dr. Lyon Playfair had asked in Parliament the year before: and this very human and comprehensible cry was doubtless echoed by every Examining Body in the land.
S. J.-B. was determined not to let the public forget the question, and in March 1875 she had an article in the Fortnightly, which Mr. Morley (now Lord Morley) had accepted very cordially.
“It will give me the most entire satisfaction,” he wrote, “to join the Governing Body of the New School of Medicine for Women, and I shall not grudge whatever time may be necessary for taking part in its proceedings. I thank you for your invitation.”
Once more the hopes of the women centred in Parliament. On March 3rd, 1875, Mr. Cowper Temple again brought forward his Enabling Bill, and a long debate ensued, but the Bill was lost by 196 votes to 153. On March 25th he returned to the charge with a Bill to permit the registration of the degrees of the Universities of France, Berlin, Leipzig, Berne and Zurich, where such degrees were held by women. This was simply an extension of a concession in the Medical Act of 1858, by which any persons in practice in England with foreign degrees at that date were allowed to register. It was found impossible, however, to obtain the support of Government to this measure, and no day could be secured for a second reading, so the matter was again deferred.
It was not to be expected that the students would go on indefinitely taking theoretical classes that led to nothing, and the future was beginning to look dark when at last a step forward was made.
Mr. Stansfeld, Mr. Cowper Temple, and Mr. Russell Gurney were all the kind of friends with whom one would go tiger-hunting, and no one of the three showed any intention of backing out. On the 16th of June, in answer to a question of Mr. Stansfeld’s, Lord Sandon admitted in the name of the Government that the subject of the medical education of women, only very lately submitted to Government, demanded their consideration; and he undertook that it should be carefully considered by the Government during the recess, so that they should be enabled to express definite views with regard to legislation upon it in the next session.
In the meantime Mr. Simon, in the name of the President of the Privy Council, had addressed a letter to the President of the General Medical Council requesting the observations of that Council on Mr. Cowper Temple’s Bill, and indeed on the whole subject of the admission of women to the medical profession.
The General Medical Council took up the question at last in all seriousness, and the discussion lasted three days, during which many remarkable things were said on both sides. Finally a report was adopted and presented to the Privy Council to the effect that,
“The Medical Council are of opinion that the study and practice of Medicine and Surgery, instead of affording a field of exertion well fitted for women, do on the contrary, present special difficulties which cannot be safely disregarded; but the Council are not prepared to say that women ought to be excluded from the profession.”
In the autumn of 1875 a fresh hope was raised, owing to a really brilliant suggestion of Mr. Simon’s. He bethought himself that those doctors who wished the women to have a different qualification from that of men might be willing to allow them to enter for the Licence in Midwifery of the College of Surgeons. Now this Midwifery Licence, strangely enough, was a regular qualification, involving the same medical curriculum as the M.R.C.S., and entitling those who held it to put their names on the Medical Register, and to practise legally with full rights as doctors. There was no reason why those women who had a complete set of certificates from Edinburgh should not go in for it at once, and forthwith become qualified general practitioners. It was not a very dignified way of entering the profession, but it did seem to be a way.
“Thursday, Nov. 11th. Today saw Simon again. He thinks they would admit us for Midwifery Licence with present certificates,—not for M.R.C.S.—though expressly same [certificates] required in Regulations. Better to get on the Register anyhow it seems to me?
Only, could it choke off anything better? Hardly. If told that was open and refused, half our case gone. Besides any existing Exam. better than a special one.
Shall ask K[ing] Ch[ambers] tomorrow.
Nov. 12th. Homme propose! K[ing] Ch[ambers] out of town....
To see Sir J. Paget tomorrow.
Bertie[129] been here today. Quite agrees, get anything you can,—ask for more by and bye.
In fact one’s position would be far stronger after one’s certificates had been accepted for the one,—when identical are required for the other. Ah, well! Qui vivra verra—many things!...
Saturday, Nov. 13th. Sir J. Paget this morning,—with Dr. A. He very kind and courteous, infinitely more of a gentleman than most.
He decidedly of opinion that we could not get admitted to the M.R.C.S., but probably might to the L.M. He at least evidently thought we ought, and thought most of the Council would think so too. They meet apparently on Dec. 14th, and he advises us to send in application before that, and then, if granted, we can be examined by end of December.
Fancy an Exam. in Midwifery only putting one on the Register!...
Tuesday, 16th. Saw Sir James Paget again at his request. He thinks we had better not apply before the meeting, but give application to Critchett to present, if desirable at the time....
Wednesday 17th. Saw Critchett. Most friendly and wholehearted—willing to raise the question of M.R.C.S. if we liked, but I advised one step first, then leverage for next....
Chambers not quite satisfied about L.M. but thinks it on the whole best for the cause (‘perhaps not for yourselves,’) to take it if we can.”
Footnote 129:
Miss Bertha Cordery, now Mrs. S. R. Gardiner.
So those three brave women, Mrs. Thorne, Miss Pechey and S. J.-B. proceeded to rub up their Midwifery, and meanwhile the authorities of the College took the opinion of counsel as to their legal power to grant or refuse the application. If no one else prospered by that long and wearing struggle, certainly the lawyers did! On this occasion they earned their salt by declaring “that the College had power to admit women under its supplemental charter, and could be compelled by legal process so to examine and grant certificates, ... that the Medical Act clearly considered a holder of such certificates a licentiate in midwifery, and as such entitled to register.”
“Friday, 21st. Jan. My 36th birthday. Just half my life since I began independently. So curious to look back on cogitations of 18th birthday! But even then I had a presentiment of ‘sunshine and storm.’
It seems as if this year was really to gain (tho’ in rather mesquin shape) what I have been fighting for in England for 7 years— Registration.
College of Surgeons on 7th Jan. decided on advice of their counsel, Mr. Beaver, that they could not exclude women from the licence in Midwifery,—so we three seniors have sent in our certificates, etc.— given to Critchett on application on Dec. 4th,—presented by him on Jan. 7th.”
On March 17th, the women were told that their certificates had been accepted, but, on the public announcement of this fact, the whole board of examiners resigned. In relating the circumstances a year later, Mr. Stansfeld wrote that “since then there had been no examiners and no examination.”
“Perhaps after all it is as well,” wrote Miss Pechey from Birmingham, where she now held a post at the Women’s Hospital under Mr. Lawson Tait,—“perhaps after all it is as well, as it gives us a stronger case for Parliament, and that licence would have been a sorry thing to practise upon....”
After suggesting a great scheme of a new “National University,” she concludes,—
“I suppose you can’t think of any way in which I could earn some money? I am beginning to wonder what I shall do when I leave here: I can’t begin to practise till I have had more midwifery.
* * * * *
“I have only one other resource to suggest now this College of Surgeons has failed, viz., that I should go over to Ireland, take that Licence in Midwifery and then try to force the Registrar to register it,—if he would not do so at once, by legal measures. Qu’en pensez- vous?
Yours aff. E. P.”
This is simply quoted to show the state—not indeed of despair, but of desperation, which these gallant women had reached. One can sympathize with this cri du coeur from S. J.-B.’s diary:
“Here comes Miss Irby’s note this morning,—wanting a hospital for the wounded at Serajevo.... Oh, dear, how I should love to go! It would probably be just the making of me as a surgeon,—and I have such a sort of wild feeling of wanting to ‘break out,’—of having been sair hadden doun by many bubbly jocks,—by the constant fighting, by Mother’s frequent illnesses, etc., etc. I feel as if it would be an intense relief to break right away into half savage parts and do hard rough work—and breathe!
And then how nice it would be with Miss Irby.... I want to get away from mental strain and excitement,—to bodily hard work.
And what magnificent practice it would be!”
* * * * *
“U. D. P. against Serbian idea. Thinks my Mother would die in my absence and I never forgive myself.
Also I should hurt ‘the cause’ by doctoring men.
I doubt both propositions, but can’t disprove either.
My brain is in a sort of dull ‘waiting’ condition,—‘quo Deus vocat.’ Well, isn’t that best? Yes, if thoroughly honest.
I suppose the constant worry and constant thwarting have made me almost wild to break away for a bit. I feel somehow as if my mind were all strained, and this better than anything would give it back its tone.”
Miss Irby’s idea came to nothing for lack of funds, but in any case, of course, S. J.-B. could not have gone. It was she who held in her hands all the parliamentary threads, and she was looking anxiously for some practical outcome from Lord Sandon’s promise of the year before. On January 14th, however, Mr. Cowper Temple wrote:
“DEAR MISS BLAKE,
The Government are not prepared to tell me whether they will introduce any Bill next session on the subject of the medical registration of women, and therefore it will be necessary for me to bring in my Bill again at the commencement of the session....”
S. J.-B. thought it worth while, however, to remind the Government tactfully of their promise, and she had learned by bitter experience to keep every possible iron in the fire. So a deputation from the London School of Medicine for Women, headed by Lord Aberdare, and including herself and Mrs. Anderson, waited on the Duke of Richmond and Gordon, Lord President of the Privy Council. The mission was ably voiced by Lord Aberdare, Mr. Stansfeld, and Mr. Forsyth, M.P., Q.C., whose name now appeared on the back of Mr. Cowper Temple’s Bill; but, although courteously received, the deputation elicited no farther encouragement.
In these circumstances, Mr. Cowper Temple again introduced his “Foreign Degrees” Bill, but fortune did not favour him in the matter of the ballot for dates, and, in the meantime, S. J.-B. writes in her diary:
“Saturday, May 13th. Saw Russell Gurney [who was now Recorder of London]. Found Government had intimated to him that he should bring in Bill enabling all nineteen bodies,—to be shown to General Medical Council on 24th.
If this passes!
Might graduate at Edinburgh after all.”
On the 5th of July Mr. Cowper Temple’s Bill came on for second reading, but was withdrawn after debate upon a statement from Lord Sandon that the Government were prepared to support the Recorder’s Bill. Even then anxiety was by no means at an end, for the Government were not prepared to make the Bill their own and find a day for it, and any persistent opposition would have been almost necessarily fatal to its passing at so late a time. One can picture the surprise with which S. J.-B. received the following letter:
“8 Palace Gardens, W. 21 July, [1876].
DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
I saw Lord Shaftesbury yesterday and he intends to give notice on Monday to move the second reading on Tuesday.
The third reading will probably follow in a day or two.
All that we shall then have to wait for will be the Royal Assent.
Always sincerely yours, RUSSELL GURNEY.”
On August 12th the Bill became law. Henceforth no University nor Examining Board could be in any doubt at all as to its own powers. Those mysterious depths were at least no longer “an uncharted sea.”
On August 7th Miss Pechey writes:
“Has our Bill received the Royal Assent? If so, I suppose Mrs. Thorne and I might apply any time to Edinburgh, though I don’t suppose she would consent to say what I intend to. I mean simply to ask them whether now they have the power, they intend honourably to fulfil the contract they made with me in 1869. It does not matter to me when I send in the question, as we can’t be examined, I believe, till next April. Isn’t it so? But of course we had better not apply till the Arts Professors are back.
Ever yours affect. E. P.”
Edinburgh, however, did not prove encouraging even to its own matriculated students, so Miss Pechey—accompanied by Miss Shove—went to Ireland in September to see what could be effected there. She was very cordially received, though many with whom she had to deal were quite unaware of the existence of the all-important Baby Act; and one can imagine the joy with which, after much labour, she wrote to report that both the Queen’s University and the King’s and Queen’s College of Physicians had consented to examine women, subject only to their complying with the ordinary regulations. “Miss Pechey has done wonders,” wrote Mrs. Thorne.
The University regulations required attendance at four courses of lectures in one of the Queen’s Colleges (at Cork, Belfast and Galway), and four professors at Galway agreed to deliver these; but, owing mainly—as happened so often!—to the opposition of one influential man, the Council of the College interposed and vetoed the arrangement.
Fortunately the Irish College made no difficulties, and to that body belongs the credit of being the first to grant to women—and above all, to these women—the long-deferred privilege of Registration. “I cannot realize,” wrote Mrs. Thorne to S. J.-B. a few weeks later, “that an examining body is absolutely open to us.” “You have been the mainspring of the seven years’ struggle, and to you we are all deeply indebted for the result.”
* * * * *
Before passing on, we must record one pleasant distraction which that summer had afforded in the appearance of Mr. Charles Reade on the scene, deeply interested in “the fight,” and very anxious to obtain materials for his Woman Hater. There are numerous letters from him to S. J.-B., asking information about this happening and that: and he spent many mornings at her house, studying the archives. The novel achieved no small success by running its course in Blackwood’s Magazine, within the very gates, so to speak, of the enemy’s citadel.
XX. AT LAST
While all this business was pending, Miss M‘Laren, rendered incredulous by her long family experience of parliamentary life, that a Bill introduced so late could really pass—had written glowing descriptions of the advantages offered by Berne, and Miss Pechey had almost resolved to go there for the M.D. As the regulations of the Irish College were exacting in the matter of hospital work, she resolved to carry out this intention in any case as a preliminary measure.
“I shall be very glad,” she writes, “of another good winter’s hospital. I hope you will join me in this, so that we may keep together. I think I should send in the Berne degree here [in Ireland] when I had got it.”
The two friends were most desirous that Mrs. Thorne should join them on this expedition for old sake’s sake; but family claims made this impossible.
Well, it was something to break away, even thus far, and be mere students again. For the moment S. J.-B. and Miss Pechey may almost be said to have been resting on their oars. Nothing more arduous was required of them than preparation for professional examination!
It was on Wednesday, November 1st, that, accompanied by Miss Clark (now Dr. Annie Clark), they entered Switzerland, a white world, as it chanced, for snow had already fallen. The diary begins again almost from the moment of arrival:
“Excellent déjeuner [at Bernerhof] 12.30. Then I lay down. E. P. and A. C. went out exploring. Wonderful energy of youth!”
They all proceeded at once to interview professors (Professor Masson had sent a delightful introduction), and forthwith began to attend lectures and cliniques, and to complete the theses which had been begun in England. S. J.-B. took as her subject Puerperal Fever, she having unhappily experienced an outbreak of that disease at Boston. The thesis was clear and exhaustive at the time, but of little permanent value, as the infective nature of the fever was not yet recognized, and treatment everywhere was mainly on a wrong scent.
She suffered terribly from neuralgia, the result of past and present strain, and work proceeded with difficulty. On December 20th Miss Pechey and Miss Clark went home for Christmas.
The diary has been brief and painful reading, but the writer revives just in time:
“Tuesday [Dec.] 26th. Nearly seven hours’ work. Splendidly well. Accepted for examination Jan. 10th.
Thursday 28th. Slept splendidly. For first time for weeks without anodyne.
Wednesday. N. Schultz called. Very nice. To walk with me before exam. next Wednesday. Rather made me nervous with her pity.
Friday.... Letter from U. D. P., begging me not to hurry—‘if I fail it can’t be kept secret.’ Are they all in league to shake my nerves?
Saturday [Jan.] 6th. E. P. still in London. Glorious day.
Tuesday 9th. From 5 a.m. rather nervous—got better in day—and did 9 hours’ work. Good head all through—thank God!
10 p.m. How very happy or very wretched I shall be this time tomorrow! I really feel as if I ought to be able to pass as far as knowledge goes,—tho’ not brilliantly,—but I am in despair about Langhans, and in less degree about others.—Still they will surely manage not to pluck me for mere want of German! Yesterday I felt almost as if I should fail, tonight I hope I shan’t, but with trembling....
Eh, dear, if I succeed, how I shall (half) laugh at past funk!—if I fail, I feel as if I need never laugh again. (And yet, played patience half an hour just now rather than be beat—‘ill to beat’ not a bad motto!) And, if I’m not beat,—fancy this being my last night without M.D.!
Wed. 10th. Nothing from E. P. or A. C. Wonder if latter has come.
Very curious my sort of duplex feeling, (a) If I could only feel sure of passing, I should pass,—i.e. not being nervous. (b) If I felt sure—I should be sure to fail, (superstition!) A sort of unworthy Setebos feeling, I think.
Undertake for me!
* * * * *
And He has! Thank God! Every exam. fairly creditable, which is worth twice a scratch.
Now to see how much better an M.D. sleeps than other people!”
“13th Jan. Brighton.
MY DARLING,
Words cannot express my thankfulness at your success, and release from anxiety. I did not fear because I did not see why they should be unjust, but I am more than glad that it is settled.
I ought to have scolded you some days ago for more grapes. I am very forgetful, and I really sleep so well that I do not require them.
Well, dear, I am quite unsettled with the good news. Hoping to meet so soon, and with great congratulations from Tom, and Hetty, and Carry, and more love than a letter will take, ever your loving Mother,
MARIA EMILY JEX-BLAKE.
I heartily echo your ‘Thank God.’ I am so thankful I cannot settle.”
A few weeks later Miss Pechey and Miss Clark also passed the examination.
“You will like to hear,” writes Miss Pechey, “that Professor Hidber told Miss Clark that the Professors were much pleased with your exam. and said it was evident that you had studied well. It is more satisfactory, I think, to hear it indirectly like that than if they had told you so.
Miss Clark says she is very glad you answered better than I did. So am I: I only wish I had answered better for the credit of my countrywomen.”
It still remained to get on the English Register through the newly opened portal of the Irish College. S. J.-B. and Miss Pechey spent some time in London, reading and attending the Brompton Hospital, where Dr. Symes Thompson proved very helpful.
There is a sheaf of blank pages in the diary, and then:
“Sunday, May 6th. Rugby.
‘One fight more,—the worst and the last!’ Oh, dear, if I pass this Exam. I shall deserve all I may get if I ever go in for another!
Since Nov. 1st.,—indeed one might say since September 1st,—hardly a day of rest and respite, but brain worked at highest pressure—often when almost a blank.
Now it is over and ‘waiting for the verdict.’
Off tonight for Dublin with E. P. Dr. A[tkins] also to join. ‘Omne ignotum pro magnifico.’ The various tests loom vague and large. Diagnosis at bedside,—horrible,—though enormously helped by Brompton experience. Recognition of drugs and things under microscope. 4 written exams. 2 hrs. oral, etc., etc.
I feel as if I really had fairly mastered my subjects and must know more than the average medical practitioner just fledged,—not to say have more sense.
But the stake is so enormous. A pluck would be so perfectly awful after all antecedents.
But in spite of my work, my brain is wonderfully well and clear.”
“Monday, May 7th. 9.45 p.m. Books closed after 4½ hours’ reading and examination,—not to be opened probably till all is over!
Be the fates propitious,—as I really think they ought, ... I the most comfortable of the three. ‘Where angels fear...?’ No,—I rather think on the principle of ‘While the child, etc.’
I’ve done my utmost,—and results are God’s.”
One is thankful to record that results were safe in His hands (as indeed S. J.-B. would have said they must have been whatever the examiners had decided). Two or three days later the three women, with a number of men, were solemnly summoned to the Board Room,—“repeated declaration after Registrar, then signed book, and Dr. Hayden, as Vice-President, took the hand of each and ‘admitted’ us!”
“Oh, dear, after long travail, good repose!”
“All dreadfully overwrought and tired. E. P. and I came to fisticuffs over Mrs. A.’s Memorial to London University. Pair of fools!”
A characteristic telegram went off at once to Mrs. Jex-Blake:
“Success just declared for all three of us.”
And within an hour this was followed up by a letter:
“... We are all so happy! The Exam. has been pretty stiff.
Yours lovingly, S. L. J. B. M. D. L. K. Q. C. P. I.”
The waiting Mother sends a mere scrap by return:
“I don’t know how to be thankful enough that all is so well thro’. Nothing will seem a trouble now. God bless you,
Ever your loving Mother.
All going well with Pony, Turk, me, etc.”
And on the heels of this all the other congratulations pour in. “If I could I would ring the bells from Bow to Beersheba,” writes a friend and patient.
One almost feels that, if the bells had known the whole story, they would have rung of their own accord.
XXI. THE ROYAL FREE HOSPITAL
The friendly reader will feel, without doubt, that the year 1876-77 had done something to justify its passage, so far as the women were concerned, but the year 1876-77 was giving more than this. S. J.-B.’s main ideal, “Not me but us,” remained to be realized. The fundamental requisite, training in a large General Hospital, was no longer practically attainable in Great Britain. A handful of women had scaled the coveted height by means of steps cut, as it were, in ice that melted behind them. It remained to prepare a permanent way for those who were following on. And the year 1876-77 was destined to give this too.
Mrs. Anderson and others had been endeavouring to obtain admission for women students to some of the wards of the London Hospital, and for a time their efforts had seemed likely to prove successful. They ended in the failure to which all the patient workers were becoming so accustomed, but meanwhile “that which was for”—the women—“was gravitating towards them.”
Before the end of 1876 Mr. Stansfeld had written:
“Private.
DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
I will bear the London University in mind as soon as I see anybody....
I met Mrs. Garrett Anderson at dinner the other day; she did not seem to have much hope or plan about the School in any way.
I have however something to tell you that I think you will be rather pleased to hear. Mrs. Stansfeld and I went to Clapham today to call on the Hopgoods, with whom we had become friendly at Whitby: and Mr. Hopgood is Chairman of the Board of the Grays Inn Lane Hospital. We found them both with us, but strange to the question.
I am to send Mr. Hopgood something to read, and he is to consider whether anything is possible there; he does not appear to be in awe of the staff.
Just as I had begun to talk the Editor of the Contemporary Review [? Nineteenth Century] came in and listened and then expressed general sympathy in a timid way, but asked me if I would write him a paper shewing a practical way and outcome; and I undertook at once to do so.
The paper I can manage though I am glad to think I shall be likely to see you before I send it; but in dealing with Mr. Hopgood I very much wish you were here.... What time in January shall you be back, probably time enough for us to act together in the matter.
Yours truly, J. STANSFELD.”
In subsequent letters Mr. Stansfeld writes:
“Jan. 5th. 77. I shall not consult anyone if I can avoid it. I think you and I have the best chance of managing it alone.”
“Jan. 13. 77. I congratulate you seriously and sincerely; it was time to get that particular anxiety off your mind, and to be M.D. at all events....
I will defer what I may have to say till we meet; but we’ll win and no mistake.”
“Stoke Lodge, Hyde Park Gate, W. Thursday evening. [Feb. 9th. 77.]
DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
I have your letter, but feel a little doubtful about seeing Dr. Chambers until after Sunday when I am to see Mr. Hopgood.
You may judge of what that interview should be, how hopeful and how critical, by his letter just received, which I copy on the other side.
I think that you ought to be with me on Sunday if possible. I see there are plenty of trains.
We might be with him say at 3 p.m. If you would come here and lunch at 1.30 I would drive you down.
Pray telegraph reply tomorrow that I may write and let him know.
Yours truly, J. STANSFELD.”
Follows the copy of Mr. Hopgood’s letter:
“I shall be at home all Sunday and glad to see you.... We dine at 5.
I see my way so far clear that on receiving a formal application from your Association it shall be without delay submitted to our Weekly Board,—and I think they will forthwith summon a special meeting of the Committee of Management, whose decision will be final for the current year! My wish may be father to the thought, but I think that if you can make some such proposition as that we talked of we have a good prospect of success.
My wife feels such a deep interest in the success of the movement that she wished me to say that if you think it desirable to form a guarantee fund, her name may be put down as a subscriber or guarantor to the extent of £100.”
There is no record of that interesting and critical Sunday, but all seems to have gone as Mr. Stansfeld would have wished, for a week or two later Mr. Hopgood writes to S. J.-B.,—“I heartily wish that every success may attend this movement,—if so I know to whom it will be chiefly due.”
* * * * *
During S. J.-B.’s preoccupations the School had been in other hands.
On March 13th Mr. Stansfeld writes,
“DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,
Have you noticed the article in the Daily News of today on the London School of M. It is not written in our interest,—you are not mentioned and I not much; but there is a list of names rather new to me, omitting, however, Lord Aberdare, a true friend.[130]
It looks as if tomorrow were pretty certain.
Yours truly, J. STANSFELD.”
Footnote 130:
A very true friend was Lord Aberdare. Here is a delightful letter written a few months later:
“Glen Tulchan, Advie, N.B. June 23. 1877.
DEAR MISS JEX-BLAKE,—I yield to your request—an annual subscription of £10. 10s. for 5 years, including the present—but with the same Caveat which St. Peter made to Pope Gregory when he prayed that that virtuous heathen Trajan might be admitted into Paradise viz ‘that you make no more such requests.’ For I find extreme difficulty in refusing applications for so good a work, and my ‘engagements’ are heavy. By this post I must send a reluctant refusal to the hardworking promoter of an excellent work.
Ever sincerely Yours, ABERDARE.”
Close on the heels of this letter came a telegram:
“Mar. 15th. Right Hon. J. Stansfeld, London, to Miss Jex-Blake 13 Sussex Square, Brighton,
London Free Hospital have unanimously accepted my proposal. Come before ten o’clock Saturday. I go out half past ten.”
Once more there was great rejoicing, and Mr. Stansfeld forwards to S. J.-B. a cordial letter from Mrs. Anderson:
“March 19. 77.
DEAR MR. STANSFELD,
As I was not able to join in the cheer which I am glad to hear was given for you at the School on Saturday, will you please accept my very heartiest thanks for your grand success at Gray’s Inn Road. We all owe more to you than to anyone. I do not imagine there will be any difficulty about the £700 a year for five years. I shall hope to be able to contribute £50 a year as my share.
Yours very truly and gratefully, E. G. ANDERSON.”
One thing more that wonderful year had given. Miss Edith Shove, who had accompanied Miss Pechey on the mission to Ireland, had made formal application to the University of London for admission to medical examination and degree. In February Mr. Smith Osier moved in the Senate that her request should be granted, and the motion was carried by 14 votes to 7. The majority consisted of the Chancellor (Lord Granville), Vice-Chancellor (Sir John Lubbock, M.P.), Lord Kimberley, Dr. Billing, Mr. Fitch, Sir William Gull, Mr. Heywood, Mr. Hutton, The Master of the Rolls (Right Hon. Sir G. Jessel), Right Hon. R. Lowe, M.P., Mr. Osler, Sir James Paget,[131] Lord Arthur Russell and Dr. William Smith. The minority consisted of Lord Cardwell, the Dean of Lincoln, Mr. Goldsmid, Sir William Jenner, Dr. Quain, Dr. Sharpey and Dr. Storrar.
Footnote 131:
The following interesting letter shows that Sir James Paget’s attitude at this time was not that of a partisan but of a just man:
“1, Harewood Place, Hanover Square, W. Feb 26. 1877.
DEAR MR. STANSFELD,
I intend to go, if possible, to the Meeting of the University Senate on Wednesday that I may vote against hindering the entrance of Women into the Medical Profession. I think them sadly mistaken in wishing for it, but I see no sufficient grounds on which they can justly or usefully be excluded.
Believe me most truly yours, JAMES PAGET.
The Rt. Honble. James Stansfeld, M.P.”
S. J.-B. received the intelligence in the following note from Dr. Archibald Billing, the father of the profession, who had taken his own degree at Oxford in 1818:
“34 Park Lane, 1/3/77.
“DEAR FRIEND,
All right. I was at my post and gave my opinion rather freely. We had a majority about two to one, but you shall have the minutes as soon as printed. Some of the medicos rather recanted.
Yours sincerely, A. BILLING.”[132]
Footnote 132:
This letter may probably have been written to Mr. Stansfeld.
One last storm was raised in Convocation about the action of the Senate, on the ground that it dealt with the Faculty of Medicine only, but this final obstruction only proved the truth of Mr. Stansfeld’s wise dictum that when the hour for reform has come all that opponents can do is to widen its character or to precipitate its advent. On January 14th, 1878, a new Charter admitting women to all degrees was laid by the Senate before Convocation, and was carried by a majority of 241 to 132.
* * * * *
So much good that year had brought—that annus mirabilis 1877—one must not be surprised if it brought some evil also. And, to S. J.-B. personally, it dealt one heavy blow. The School, as her Mother said, was her living child. She had conceived it, brought it forth, tended it, fought for it,—done most of the daily work it involved, with the help of a lady secretary she herself had trained. Until she was a qualified doctor, however, she did not wish her name to appear either on the Council or on the Governing Body. In all the early papers it occurs only as Trustee.
But she had always looked forward to her registration as something that would initiate a new order of things. That platform gained, and the dust of the struggle and fight left behind, she expected to take officially, as Honorary Secretary, the position she had filled hitherto without any recognition at all. Up till now she had been constantly harassed, driven,—striving for something that always receded when it seemed within her grasp. No wonder if she had often been hasty, high-handed, difficult. Now all that, so she thought, was past. We recall the dreams and ideals of her youth,—how she had longed to organize some fine new school for girls, of which, conceivably, she might be worthy to be the head.
“I am beginning to hope, Mother! If I only suffer enough—and I don’t believe mine will ever be a smooth or easy life—I may yet be fit to be the head for which I am looking so earnestly.”
We have seen with what searchings of heart she laid aside this ideal for the long struggle of her medical career; but from first to last she never laid aside the sympathetic interest in her colleagues and juniors which was perhaps the most striking characteristic of her professional life. Is it strange if she now looked forward to a realization of the whole dream ?
In any case that realization was not to be. Her enforced absences in the matter of her examination had given people a chance to do without her. We have seen that they had not always found her particularly easy to work with. “You wouldn’t let me muddle, and you wouldn’t let me dawdle, and how could I be happy?” one of her “daughters” used to cry in the radiant success of later years: and although it would not be fair to generalize this into a solution of the whole difficulty, it goes a long way to account for it. There were those who were thankful that things should be done a little less efficiently and more easily,—thankful to have a little more say in matters for which they felt themselves partially responsible. There were those who looked forward with sinking of heart to the time when S. J.-B. would return and really take up the reins.
We have seen repeatedly that she never realized the strain of “difficulty” in her own nature, and she always had a cohort of loyal supporters; but she must have heard—or guessed—something of what was going on, for she wrote to Mr. Stansfeld that the task of being Honorary Secretary was too onerous to be undertaken except at the unanimous wish of those concerned. Perhaps Mrs. Thorne—Dr. Atkins—Mrs. Anderson—would care to undertake the task? Probably she knew for a fact that the two first named would refuse it; and it must have seemed impossible that Mrs. Anderson—overwhelmed as she was with other work—would entertain the suggestion.
S. J.-B. was still in Ireland when the question came up. Mrs. Thorne proposed S. J.-B. as Honorary Secretary, and someone else proposed Mrs. Anderson, both nominations being duly seconded.
Mrs. Anderson was in a difficult position, and said so frankly. She did not wish to take an unfair advantage over her colleague; but if it was to be for the good of the School—?
Mr. Stansfeld and the Dean (Mr. Norton, who was always S. J.-B.’s staunch supporter) were somewhat at a loss, and so no doubt were others; it was not an easy situation for anybody. After some talk the meeting was adjourned. Everything pointed to Mrs. Anderson’s election.
But, when it came to the point, this was more than S. J.-B. could stand. Many lesser people would have accepted the situation gracefully, concealing any heartburning they might have felt, but this was just what S. J.-B. could not do. It was partly a personal question, of course. With every desire and effort to be fair, Mrs. Anderson had always looked at S. J.-B.’s life and work through the wrong end of the telescope, so to speak, and it is not easy to appreciate fully the people who make no secret of the fact that they take that view of us.
But the personal question was not all. We remember how warmly S. J.-B. had spoken of her colleague in the old days, as “running where I crawl,”—how she had triumphed in every stage of her colleague’s success. She honestly felt that Mrs. Anderson was already too fully occupied to undertake so big a job,—felt that, humanly speaking, Mrs. Anderson could only lend her name, and do the work by proxy.
And even that does not exhaust the subject. The truth is that S. J.-B., to the day of her death and with all her faults, was an incorrigible idealist; and Mrs. Anderson, rich though she was in excellent qualities, seemed to her to be lacking in certain capabilities of insight and imagination which outweighed everything else.
“Put me utterly aside if need be!” she had cried in the self-surrender of her adolescence.
And now she was taken at her word. But it was not easy to see the “need be.” For a time it was blotted out by the bitter experience of personal opposition.
It was a painful situation all round, but like so many painful situations, it called forth something fine. Mrs. Thorne was persona grata with all parties, and finally Mrs. Thorne stepped into the breach and allowed herself to be elected Honorary Secretary of the School.
“About the best possible,” wrote S. J.-B. in her diary, “with her excellent sense and perfect temper. So much better than I.”
It involved a definite sacrifice, for, although Mrs. Thorne had taken all her classes with distinction, she had only passed one professional examination; and she was not one of those who are content to scrape through. She had aimed at a London degree, and had even talked of taking her whole course over again in order to fulfil every requirement. Dr. Sewall had long since singled her out as “the doctor” in potentiality among the English medical women.
Already family claims had made her pause. This new claim, combined with the others, proved more than she could withstand. She cast aside her own ambitions, and made the success of the School her main object in life.
* * * * *
“Sweet Sackermena and her isles! See how many yards and miles It takes to walk round Sackermena.”
A breezy way this of paraphrasing the more familiar passage:
“Tantae molis erat Romanam condere gentem.”
But what one really wants to express is,—See the amount of work, the number of people it took to achieve this one bit of human evolution! Even the many names in this book are culled from a great multitude.
It was S. J.-B. who opened the subject boldly up, and forced the whole world to discuss it. It was she who—in the eye of the whole world—led the Edinburgh fight to its unforeseen sequel in Parliament and in the opening of the London School.
Miss Pechey was a loyal and stimulating comrade throughout, disarming opponents by the personal charm, intelligence and humour which eventually opened the Irish College and gained the actual concession of the right of registration.
Mrs. Thorne contributed a fine undercurrent of stability. It was not her way to write picturesque letters that lend themselves to quotation, but it was mainly owing to her that the London School became a lasting and conspicuous success.[133]
Footnote 133:
In later years, as Dean, Mrs. Anderson did much for the enlargement and development of the School.
Pari passu with all this, as we have seen, and antecedently to any of it,—Mrs. Anderson was quietly showing the English world that a woman can be a reliable and successful doctor.
Fine records all four, and surely no less fine was the brave, wise, unwearying championship of Professor Masson and Sir James Stansfeld, without whom—humanly speaking—nothing could have been achieved at all.
Sir James Stansfeld would not have allowed us to draw the line there. In an able sketch of the whole movement up to 1877, in the Nineteenth Century, he concludes his survey with the following significant words:
“One thing more remains to record. These pages will, I think, have presented to the reader’s mind evidence of a tough and persistent and continuous struggle. Such struggles do not persist and succeed, according to my experience, without the accompanying fact, the continuous thread, as it were, of one constant purpose and dominant will. Dr. Sophia Jex-Blake has made that greatest of all contributions to the end attained. I do not say that she has been the ultimate cause of success. The ultimate cause has been simply this, that the time was at hand. It is one of the lessons of the history of progress that when the time for a reform has come you cannot resist it, though, if you make the attempt, what you may do is to widen its character or precipitate its advent. Opponents, when the time has come, are not merely dragged at the chariot wheels of progress—they help to turn them. The strongest force, whichever way it seems to work, does most to aid. The forces of greatest concentration here have been, in my view, on the one hand the Edinburgh University led by Sir Robert Christison, on the other the women claimants led by Dr. Sophia Jex- Blake. Defeated at Edinburgh, she carried her appeal to the highest court, that most able to decide and to redress, the High Court of Parliament representing the Nation itself. The result we see at last. Those who hail it as the answer which they sought have both to thank, in senses and proportions which they may for themselves decide.”[134]
Footnote 134:
Nineteenth Century, July 1877.
It would be easy to close on this note, but it is on the earlier part of Sir James Stansfeld’s conclusion that one prefers to dwell. A tough and persistent struggle is indeed recorded in these pages—it was only on working through the vast mass of original documents that the present writer formed the faintest conception how tough and persistent that struggle had been—and yet what will strike the reader most is that it was emphatically not a “one man fight.” S. J.-B. never said “I” in connection with it. “You see we were so splendidly helped,” was her almost invariable comment on looking back.
And she was splendidly helped. Not only by her fellow-students, by friendly professors, by the Editor of the Scotsman, and by those who would fain have been her patients. All that one was prepared to find. The amazing thing is the way in which—when all of these were almost paralyzed by the strength of the opposition (yes, and by her mistakes)— help came from somewhere. It might be the working-man, sending her a shilling to represent his sympathy, or the statesman in a London club, throwing down his newspaper with the determination that that woman should be baited no longer. In any case help came.
Truly, as Sir James Stansfeld said, the time was at hand.
And Newman is perfectly right when he says that, if the individual be powerful-minded and the cause good, the mistakes actually help. They increase the talk, increase the interest, help to make the picture that appeals to the popular imagination, till what has seemed to be the eccentric action of a single individual spreads out in waves that envelop the whole earth.
Writing exactly forty years after the events just narrated—at a moment when women doctors are proving so vital an asset to the nation and to humanity at large—one realizes the difference it would have made to the whole world if Sophia Jex-Blake had been content to qualify abroad and to slip on to the Medical Register somehow, instead of throwing the gates wide open for all who were to follow her.
Reference has been made above to her love of poetry, and of all her poems there was none she was wont to recite more solemnly than Kipling’s Explorer:
“Yes, your ‘Never-never country’—yes, your ‘edge of cultivation’ And ‘no sense in going further’—till I crossed the range to see.
God forgive me! No, I didn’t. It’s God’s present to our nation. Anybody might have found it but—His Whisper came to Me!”
PART III
My fame is in the hands of others. I have weighed in a nice and scrupulous balance whether it is better to serve men or to be praised by them, and I prefer the former.
SYDENHAM. (Quoted in S. J.-B.’s commonplace book.)
Have I named one single river? Have I claimed one single acre? Have I kept one single nugget—(barring samples)? No, not I.
KIPLING.
Your goodness must have some edge to it,—else it is none.
EMERSON.