CHAPTER VII

RETURN TO ENGLAND

1869

In 1869 the early pioneer work in America was ended. During the twenty years which followed the graduation of the first woman physician, the public recognition of the justice and advantage of such a measure had steadily grown. Throughout the Northern States the free and equal entrance of women into the profession of medicine was secured. In Boston, New York, and Philadelphia special medical schools for women were sanctioned by the Legislatures, and in some long-established colleges women were received as students in the ordinary classes.

Our New York centre was well organised under able guidance, and I determined to return to England for a temporary though prolonged residence, both to renew physical strength, which had been severely tried, and to enlarge my experience of life, as well as to assist in the pioneer work so bravely commencing in London, and which extended later to Edinburgh.

I soon found that social questions of vital importance to human progress were taking root in the prepared soil of the older civilisation—questions which were of absorbing interest. During the following twenty years the responsibility of the Christian physician assumed to me an ever-deepening significance.

After a refreshing tour in the lovely Lake District, arranged by my old friend Herman Bicknell, we attended the Social Science Congress held in Bristol in September of 1869. This was indeed a noteworthy experience. I was the guest with Miss Mary Carpenter of her relations Mr. and Mrs. Thomas. One morning Miss Carpenter came into my room with her hands full of papers, saying, ‘These papers refer to a subject that you must take up. It is to be discussed at a sectional meeting to-day, from which all women are excluded; but you, as a doctor, have a right to be present, and will be admitted, and you _must_ attend.’

This formed my introduction to that tremendous campaign against the unequal standard of sexual morality known as the repeal of the ‘Contagious Diseases Acts,’ in which for the following seventeen years I was to take an active part, and which, from its extended bearings, moulded the whole of my future life.

The study of the papers thus brought to my notice by Miss Carpenter was a revelation to me. Perhaps happily for me, during my past life and medical experiences I had never fully realised the wide bearing of this subject and the inevitable social degradation produced by a double standard of morality. My eyes were now suddenly opened, never to be closed again, to that direful purchase of women which is really the greatest obstacle to the progress of the race.

Ignorant as I then was of the various aspects of the Contagious Diseases Acts, I instantly perceived their injustice, and at once accepted the difficult mission Miss Carpenter laid upon me.

It was hoped by some members of the congress that a resolution would be passed supporting the one-sided Contagious Diseases Acts legislation, against which a strong opposition was beginning to arise, and I resolved that the voice of one member of the congress, at any rate, should support the foundation of morality—viz. equal justice. I therefore attended the section, held at the Blind Asylum, sitting far back in that assemblage of men.

I soon found, however, to my immense relief and gratitude, that the cause of justice was in able and vigorous male hands, led by Professor Francis Newman; so I gladly withdrew from a painful position in that sectional meeting, my advocacy not being needed.

I was privileged at this time to make the acquaintance of the Rev. Charles Kingsley and his generous-hearted wife. On our first meeting, at an evening party, Mr. Kingsley overwhelmed me by his enthusiastic greeting. ‘You are one of my heroes,’ he said—a speech which I really could not then understand; it seemed to stun me, in my quiet life. Later, as I learned to know his enthusiastic character and profound social insight, I knew his meaning. A sincere personal friendship was then begun. He supported me by constant and wise counsel until the time of his lamented death, which was indeed a severe personal loss. I was warmly welcomed to the Rectory of Eversley, and later to the Deanery of Chester. On the pleasant and historic pine hills of Bramshill, by the Eversley Parsonage, and on the ancient walls of Chester, with their noble outlook to the Welsh mountains, when visiting the Deanery, I enjoyed memorable walks with this generous-hearted man, when he threw open his delightful stores of natural history and strengthened me by his social wisdom.

An amusing personal experience at the Bristol Congress was a ‘breakfast of all the religions,’ organised by my eccentric friend Herman Bicknell, and at which he insisted that I should help him preside. He said to me: ‘Holyoake is an Atheist, Cowell Stepney a Materialist, Baunerjé and Chatterjé are of the Hindoo Brahma Somaj, you are a Christian, and I am a Catholic. It will be a most remarkable gathering, and the discussion of such varied opinions extremely interesting.’ I accepted the queer invitation. The breakfast was held in a large parlour of the hotel. We assembled at table, and one of the first things the very deaf gentleman on my right hand said to me was: ‘What an extraordinary, odd notion that of a soul is! I wonder how it could have arisen.’ But the most interesting remark by far was made by Holyoake, who, returning from a secularist meeting of Bristol working men, was at once accosted by our host: ‘Now, Holyoake, pray let us have your famous demonstration of the non-existence of a God.’ Mr. Holyoake accepted the demand, and thought for some time in a profound silence; then, with a puzzled face, he suddenly burst out: ‘Upon my word, Bicknell, I have really quite forgotten it!’

Mr. Kingsley once said to me, pointing to Holyoake: ‘That man, many years ago, I put into prison for blasphemy; now I am begging him to come down and visit me at Eversley!’ Our breakfast of all the religions as an active contest was a failure. The hostile forces met together, but, instead of fighting, they fraternised!

It was during this visit to Bristol in 1869 that the curious experience, already referred to on page 4, occurred, when I visited the house where my early childhood was spent.

On settling in London as a physician, I resided for some time with my valued friend Barbara Leigh Smith, then Madame Bodichon, at whose house in Blandford Square I met her wide and varied circle of literary and artistic friends and many leaders of social reform. Herbert Spencer, Dante Rossetti, Mrs. Lewes, the Peter Taylors, Mrs. Crawshay, Miss Goldsmid, Miss Cobbe, and Keshub Chunder Sen represent a few of the persons I was privileged to meet.

At this time I had engaged medical consultation-rooms in an apparently respectable house in York Place, on the front door of which the house agent allowed me to place my name. I soon found, however, that my doctor’s sign was intended to conceal the dubious character of the occupier of the house, and I had unconsciously walked into a trap! But friends came to the rescue and compelled the cancelling of the lease with which I was entangled. I then established myself at No. 6 Burwood Place, where the commencement of a promising medical practice was soon formed.

I eagerly entered upon the varied and intensely interesting social life now opened to me.

My long-cherished conviction of the supreme importance of the medical profession as the great conservator of health constantly deepened.

In 1870, being invited to address the Working Women’s College, I took as the subject of my discourse ‘How to Keep a Household in Health.’ This lecture laid down rules of health for the guidance of poor women in the management of their households, and was welcomed by the audience. One person present, however, sent a slanderous account of this lecture to the ‘Pall Mall Gazette,’ and I was overwhelmed by the receipt of anonymous letters, and letters from persons in all classes of society, requesting medical advice on the most important and delicate subjects—subjects which are only suitable for the confidential counsel of the physician’s consulting-room, where alone advice adapted to each individual case can be judiciously given. I mentioned this experience of the newspaper attack and the subsequent correspondence to my friend Mr. Kingsley. He exclaimed: ‘Oh, you did not answer those letters, I trust?’ I assured him that I had always refused to give the advice asked for by letter, and had invariably returned fees when enclosed. ‘Thank God for that!’ he exclaimed with an energy that amazed me; and he then related to me a very painful experience of his own, saying: ‘Let me warn you, never answer a newspaper attack. There are some newspapers that delight in getting hold of a scandal or whatever may make their paper sell, and are utterly unscrupulous as to the means by which such a purpose is accomplished. You have no chance against such corrupt speculation; your only weapon is silence and your own established character.’

On February 19, 1871, under the auspices of the Sunday Lecture Society, I gave an address, ‘On the Religion of Health,’ to a large appreciative audience in St. George’s Hall. The same year a small meeting was held in the drawing-room of 6 Burwood Place, to consider the important subject of a steady and wide diffusion of sanitary knowledge among all the people. There ‘The National Health Society’ was formed, for which Mr. Prout Newcombe (who was present) shaped the stamp of the society, with its motto, ‘Prevention is better than cure.’ This society, which established its first office in Berners Street under the intelligent secretaryship of Miss Toulmin Smith, continues its enlarging sphere of usefulness under the able management of Miss Fay Lankester.

At this time the medical dispensary established by Miss Garrett for women and children in Seymour Place was growing and enlisting a large number of influential friends.

From this small beginning has grown the New Hospital and London School of Medicine for Women, connected with the Royal Free Hospital. This is not the place to speak of the intelligent and persevering efforts to which those institutions owe their origin. The work of Dr. Garrett Anderson and Dr. Sophia Jex Blake will always be remembered. It was my privilege and pleasure in some small degree to encourage these brave workers in their pioneer enterprise in England.

Whilst attending to an increasing medical practice, a visit from Mr. William Pare, who had written an interesting account of the Ralahine land experiment in Ireland, which proved so successful under the management of Mr. E. T. Craig, drew my attention to the important co-operative movement steadily growing in England.[8] The abortive attempts at co-operative society which I had watched in the United States, at Brook Farm, Red Bank, Eagleswood, and other places, in no way shook the faith that through failure and renewed effort the true principles of a wise organisation of human relations would gradually be evolved. The English co-operative movement was characteristic of the common-sense, unambitious way in which reforms grow in England. The religious element introduced by such a noble band of Christian Socialists as Maurice, Kingsley, Hughes, and Ludlow gave a hopefulness to this movement which no attempts based on a limited view of material well-being can afford.

Medical experience was daily showing the influence of the mind over the body, and I eagerly longed to see an embodiment of Christian principles in society, which embodiment was, as yet, far from attainment.

In pursuance of this investigation, at the end of August 1872 I determined to visit the Familistère of Guise, formed by Godin Lemaire. His book, ‘Solutions Sociales,’ describing the growth of the institution, was exceedingly interesting, and contained valuable suggestions for future workers, and I wished to see its practical working for myself. At the end of a fatiguing journey to Guise, on the Belgian frontier of France, for at that time many miles had to be traversed by diligence, I was cordially welcomed by M. Lemaire, and spent several very interesting days in the great Familistère, observing the life there.

The Familistère, which accommodated several hundred people, was erected on a tract of land almost encircled by the river, which tract was laid out in gardens and pleasure grounds. Across the river stood the large factories and workshops for the manufacture of stoves, &c., which furnished the remunerative occupation of the little community.

I attended the prize-giving at the schools, saw the theatre, workmen’s club and choral society, witnessed a ball, and visited the manufactory. The organisation was a great object-lesson both in its success and its defects; full of interest to those who seriously study this important subject of improved social relations. The life at the Familistère, however, was intense, and rather overpowering to me.

Shortly after my return I was attacked by illness, which proved so serious in its effects that in 1873 the Burwood Place establishment was broken up, and my plan of life necessarily changed. During the next three years I vainly endeavoured to resume my London work, but was frequently obliged to seek health in change of residence and foreign travel. This travel included a memorable winter in Rome, which need not be further referred to, although the approach to the Eternal City—when, across the Campagna, the dome of St. Peter’s was first visible—was a thrilling personal joy, never to be forgotten. But my purely personal experiences will not be dwelt on.

When the London School of Medicine for Women was established I hastened my return, and accepted the Chair of Gynæcology in the college.

In my lodgings in Dorset Square I again suffered from atrocious biliary colic, which the able physicians whom I consulted were unable to relieve, finished my course of lectures with extreme difficulty, and came to the conclusion, with bitter disappointment, that any future residence in London under my circumstances must be given up.

The winters of 1876-78 were spent chiefly at Bordighera and in Nice. An episode there is worth recording.

My enlarging experience in various countries in respect to the relations between men and women—the customs, the diseases, the social disaster springing from errors as to human physiology and neglect in education with regard to the most important functions—showed me the imperative work which devolved upon the physician in this matter. I realised that the mind cannot be separated from the body in any profound view of the scope of medical responsibility. Under the olive trees of Bordighera, and sitting by its lovely blue sea, I meditated on the duty of the physician, and finally wrote the small work, ‘Counsel to Parents on the Moral Education of their Children.’

So little at that time was the importance of sexual education understood, and the necessity of its consideration accepted, that when I read my manuscript to a warm and enlightened English friend staying at Mentone, she assured me that if I published that manuscript my ‘name would be a forbidden word in England.’

I sent the manuscript, however, to about twelve of the leading London publishers, who all declined the publication. I therefore printed a small edition myself, which a bookseller consented to keep on sale. A copy of this little book fell under the notice of Miss Ellice Hopkins, who, considering that it would be useful in the special work in which she was engaged, induced Mr. Hudson, the then acting member of the firm of Hatchard & Co., to reconsider the matter and publish the book for her use. The arrangement was made and the book printed; but soon after I received a letter saying that though the firm had never yet broken faith with an author, yet they feared they must do so now; for the senior member of the firm, Bishop Hatchard’s widow, had seen the proof of the book, thrown it into the fire, and desired that its publication should be stopped!

Finally, a little consultation of elderly clergymen was called to consider the subject, and it was at last resolved that if the name of the work could be changed, and the distinct announcement made in the title that it was a medical as well as a moral work, the publication might be continued. Of course the change was made, and ‘Counsel to Parents’ became ‘The Moral Education of the Young, considered under _Medical_ and Social Aspects.’

I mention this curious experience as an encouragement to those who are engaged in all branches of moral work. Public sentiment has advanced since 1876. Looking now at the very reticent way in which the subject is treated in this little book, it is difficult to believe that such an episode could have occurred.

It has become clear to me that our medical profession has not yet fully realised the special and weighty responsibility which rests upon it to watch over the cradle of the race; to see that human beings are well born, well nourished, and well educated. The onward impulse to this great work would seem to be especially incumbent upon women physicians, who for the first time are beginning to realise the all-important character of parentage in its influence upon the adult as well as on the child—i.e. on the race.

To every woman, as well as to every man, the responsible function of parentage is delegated. Our nature is dwarfed or degraded if the growth which should be attained by the exercise of parentage, directly or potentially, be either avoided or perverted.

The physician knows that the natural family group is the first essential element of a progressive society. The degeneration of that element by the degradation of either of its two essential factors, the man or the woman, begins the ruin of a State.

It is a source of deep gratitude in a long medical life to have been enabled by physiological knowledge, as well as experience, to perceive the true point of view from which the special nature of man and woman must be regarded. It is well worth the efforts of a lifetime to have attained knowledge which justifies an attack on the root of all evil—viz. the deadly atheism which asserts that because forms of evil have always existed in society, therefore they must always exist; and that the attainment of a high ideal is a hopeless chimera.

The study of human nature by women as well as men commences that new and hopeful era of the intelligent co-operation of the sexes through which alone real progress can be attained and secured. We may look forward with hope to the future influence of Christian women physicians, when with sympathy and reverence guiding intellectual activity they learn to apply the vital principles of their Great Master to every method and practice of the healing art.

APPENDIX

I

The following letter, lately published in the New York ‘Church Union’ by a well-known physician of New York, is interesting as the testimony of a gentleman who was a fellow-student in the Geneva Medical College.

_The Medical Co-education of the Sexes. By_ STEPHEN SMITH, M.D.

Medical circles were recently entertained by a symposium of prominent physicians discussing the propriety of the medical co-education of the sexes. All of the writers were opposed to the suggestion; some, notably Dr. Weir Mitchell, of Philadelphia, expressed the utmost disgust at the proposition. It happened to me to have witnessed the first instance of the co-education of medical students of both sexes in this country, and the results quite upset the theories of these gentlemen.

The first course of medical lectures which I attended was in a medical college in the interior of this State in 1847-48. The class, numbering about 150 students, was composed largely of young men from the neighbouring towns. They were rude, boisterous, and riotous beyond comparison. On several occasions the residents of the neighbourhood sent written protests to the faculty, threatening to have the college indicted as a nuisance if the disturbance did not cease. During lectures it was often almost impossible to hear the professors, owing to the confusion.

Some weeks after the course began the dean appeared before the class with a letter in his hand, which he craved the indulgence of the students to be allowed to read. Anticipation was extreme when he announced that it contained the most extraordinary request which had ever been made to the faculty. The letter was written by a physician of Philadelphia, who requested the faculty to admit as a student a lady who was studying medicine in his office. He stated that she had been refused admission by several medical colleges, but, as this institution was in the country, he thought it more likely to be free from prejudice against a woman medical student. The dean stated that the faculty had taken action on the communication, and directed him to report their conclusion to the class. The faculty decided to leave the matter in the hands of the class, with this understanding—that if any single student objected to her admission, a negative reply would be returned. It subsequently appeared that the faculty did not intend to admit her, but wished to escape direct refusal by referring the question to the class, with a proviso which, it was believed, would necessarily exclude her.

But the whole affair assumed the most ludicrous aspect to the class, and the announcement was received with the most uproarious demonstrations of favour. A meeting was called for the evening, which was attended by every member. The resolution approving the admission of the lady was sustained by a number of the most extravagant speeches, which were enthusiastically cheered. The vote was finally taken, with what seemed to be one unanimous yell, ‘Yea!’ When the negative vote was called, a single voice was heard uttering a timid ‘No.’ The scene that followed passes description. A general rush was made for the corner of the room which emitted the voice, and the recalcitrant member was only too glad to acknowledge his error and record his vote in the affirmative. The faculty received the decision of the class with evident disfavour, and returned an answer admitting the lady student. Two weeks or more elapsed, and as the lady student did not appear, the incident of her application was quite forgotten, and the class continued in its riotous career. One morning, all unexpectedly, a lady entered the lecture-room with the professor; she was quite small of stature, plainly dressed, appeared diffident and retiring, but had a firm and determined expression of face. Her entrance into that Bedlam of confusion acted like magic upon every student. Each hurriedly sought his seat, and the most absolute silence prevailed. For the first time a lecture was given without the slightest interruption, and every word could be heard as distinctly as it would if there had been but a single person in the room. The sudden transformation of this class from a band of lawless desperadoes to gentlemen, by the mere presence of a lady, proved to be permanent in its effects. A more orderly class of medical students was never seen than this, and it continued to be to the close of the term.

The real test of the influence of a woman upon the conduct and character of a man in co-education was developed when the Professor of Anatomy came to that part of his course which required demonstrations that he believed should be witnessed only by men. The professor was a rollicking, jovial man, who constantly interspersed his lectures with witty remarks and funny anecdotes. Nor did he study to have his language chaste, or the moral of his stories pure and elevating. In fact, vulgarity and profanity formed a large part of his ordinary lectures; and especially was this true of the lectures on the branch of anatomy above mentioned. On this account, chiefly, he was exceedingly popular with his class; and during his lectures stamping, clapping, and cheering were the principal employments of the students.

One morning our lady student was missed at the lecture on anatomy, and the professor entered the room evidently labouring under great excitement. He stated that he had a communication to make to the class which demanded the most serious consideration. He then explained that he had thought it highly improper that the lady student should attend certain lectures specially adapted for men, and as he was approaching that subject he had frankly advised her to absent herself, in a letter which he read. He dwelt upon the indelicacy of the subject, the embarrassment under which he should labour if a lady were present, and the injustice which would be done to the class by the imperfect manner in which he should be obliged to demonstrate the subject. He closed by offering her abundant private opportunities for study and dissection. He then read her reply. It was gracefully written, and showed a full appreciation of his embarrassing position, when viewed from the low standpoint of impure and unchaste sentiments. But she could not conceive of a medical man whose mind was not so elevated and purified by the study of the science of anatomy that such sentiments would for a moment influence him. Coming to the practical question of her attendance upon these lectures, she stated that if the professor would really be embarrassed by the presence of a lady on the first tier of seats, she would take her seat on the upper tier; and she trusted that his interest in his subject would lead him to entirely forget the presence of student No. 130—her registered number. At the close of the letter the professor acknowledged the justice of the rebuke which he had received, and declared that a lady who was animated by such elevated views of her profession was entitled to every possible encouragement which the class or faculty could give. He then opened the door and she entered, only to receive an ovation of the most overwhelming character. The lectures on anatomy proceeded in regular order to their conclusion; and it was the universal testimony of the oldest students that they had never listened to such a complete and thorough course.

At the close of the term our lady student came up for examination for graduation, and took rank with the best students of the class. As this was the first instance of the granting of a medical diploma to a woman in this country, so far as the faculty had information, there was at first some hesitation about conferring the degree. But it was finally determined to take the novel step, and in the honour list of the roll of graduates for that year appears the name, Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell.

_Church Union._ New York, 1892.

II

_An M.D. in a Gown_

[The ‘Medical Times’ of the 21st ult. contains a full, true, and particular account of the admission of a young lady, Miss Elizabeth Blackwell, by the General Medical College, in the State of New York, to a physician’s degree. Miss Blackwell had duly attended lectures at the college, and received a formal diploma, under the title of ‘Domina,’ which was the only feminine that the Senate could find for Doctor. ‘Punch’ really thinks this is a case for a copy of verses, which he accordingly subjoins, in honour of the fair M.D.]

Not always is the warrior male, Nor masculine the sailor; We all know Zaragossa’s tale, We’ve all heard ‘Billy Taylor;’ But far a nobler heroine, she Who won the palm of knowledge, And took a Medical Degree, By study at her College.

They talk about the gentler sex Mankind in sickness tending, And o’er the patient’s couch their necks Solicitously bending; But what avails solicitude In fever or in phthisic, If lovely woman’s not imbued With one idea of physic?

Young ladies all, of every clime, Especially of Britain, Who wholly occupy your time In novels or in knitting, Whose highest skill is but to play, Sing, dance, or French to clack well. Reflect on the example, pray, Of excellent Miss Blackwell!

Think, if you had a brother ill, A husband, or a lover, And could prescribe the draught or pill Whereby he might recover; How much more useful this would be, Oh, sister, wife, or daughter! Than merely handing him beef-tea, Gruel, or toast-and-water.

Ye bachelors about to wed In youth’s unthinking hey-day, Who look upon a furnish’d head As horrid for a lady, Who’d call a female doctor ‘blue;’ You’d spare your sneers, I rather Think, my young fellows, if you knew What physic costs a father!

How much more blest were married life To men of small condition, If every one could have his wife For family physician; His nursery kept from ailments free, By proper regulation, And for advice his only fee A thankful salutation.

For Doctrix Blackwell—that’s the way To dub in rightful gender— In her profession, ever may Prosperity attend her! ‘Punch’ a gold-handled parasol Suggests for presentation To one so well deserving all Esteem and admiration.

1849.

III

_First Annual Report of the New York Dispensary for Poor Women and Children, 1855_

The design of this institution is to give to poor women an opportunity of consulting physicians of their own sex. The existing charities of our city regard the employment of women as physicians as an experiment, the success of which has not yet been sufficiently proved to admit of cordial co-operation. It was therefore necessary to form a separate institution which should furnish to poor women the medical aid which they could not obtain elsewhere.

The following gentlemen cordially consented to act as trustees of the proposed institution: Messrs. Butler, White, Haydock, Sedgwick, Collins, Field, Draper, Greeley, West, Harris, Foster, Raymond, Flanders, Dana, Manning, Spring, Bowne. Consulting physicians, Drs. Kissam, Parker, Cammann, Taylor. Attending physician, Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell.

Messrs. Sedgwick and Butler kindly procured an Act of Incorporation. A meeting for organisation was held on January 30, 1854. A constitution and bylaws were adopted, and the following members were appointed an Executive Committee to transact the business for the year: Stacy B. Collins, Richard H. Bowne, Charles A. Dana, Elizabeth Blackwell, Charles Foster.

The Eleventh Ward was chosen as the location for the dispensary, it being destitute of medical charity, while possessing a densely crowded poor population. The necessary rooms were found in Seventh Street, near Tompkins Square, and were ready for the reception of patients in the month of March. The dispensary has been regularly opened through the year, on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons, at 3 o’clock. Over 200 poor women have received medical aid. All these women have gratefully acknowledged the help afforded them, and several of the most destitute have tendered their few pence as an offering to the institution.

With all these patients, the necessity of cleanliness, ventilation, and judicious diet has been strongly urged, and in many cases the advice has been followed, at any rate for a time. A word of counsel or information, too, has often been given to the destitute widow or friendless girl who was seeking work as well as health; the best methods of seeking employment have been pointed out, suitable charities occasionally recommended, and pecuniary aid sometimes rendered.

Since the double distress of commercial pressure and severe weather have weighed so heavily on the poor, many cases of extreme destitution have come to the dispensary. These have been chiefly emigrants, mostly Germans, without friends or money, and ignorant of the language. Several families have been visited where some member was sick, and found utterly destitute, suffering from hunger, and though honest and industrious, disappointed in every effort to obtain work. To such families a little help with money, generally in the form of a loan till work could be procured, has proved invaluable, and a small poor fund placed by some friends in the hands of the attending physician, for this special object, has saved several worthy families from despair and impending starvation.

The dispensary has been removed since January 1, 1855, to No. 150 Third Street, between Avenues A and B, opposite the large Catholic church; all persons who are interested in its objects are cordially invited to call there. It will be open as heretofore from 3 to 5 o’clock on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons. Poor women and children may be sent from any part of the city to receive the medical aid of the dispensary, it being free to all.

This institution was commenced by the subscriptions of a few friends; its expenses have been kept within its means, but the power of doing good has necessarily been limited by the smallness of its funds. It is found desirable to enlarge its operations, and place it on a permanent basis. For this purpose, the trustees wish to raise the sum of 5,000 dollars, and contributions are earnestly solicited. The following members are appointed to receive contributions:

Stacy B. Collins, 155 Bleecker Street, Robert Haydock, 46 Broadway, Elizabeth Blackwell, 79 East Fifteenth Street.

The amount raised will be invested as a permanent fund for the institution. It is the hope of the founders of this charity to make it eventually a hospital for women and a school for the education of nurses.

The books of the dispensary are always open to the inspection of members, on application to the attending physician.

New York: February 8, 1855.

ADDRESSES

The following addresses and publications indicate that ‘search after righteousness’ which has occupied later life in England.

_How to keep a Household in Health_; given at the Working Women’s College, 1870.

_Medicine and Morality_, 1881; in the ‘Modern Review.’

_Rescue Work in relation to Vice and Disease_, 1881; before Mrs. Meredith’s Society.

_Christian Socialism_, 1882.

_Wrong and Right Methods of dealing with Social Evil, based on Parliamentary Evidence_, 1883.

_On the Decay of Municipal Representative Government: a Personal Experience in Hastings_, 1885.

_Purchase of Women a Great Economic Blunder_, 1886.

_Criticism of Gronlund’s Co-operative Commonwealth_; given before the Fellowship of the New Life, 1888.

_A Medical Treatise on the Corruption of Neo-Malthusianism_, 1888.

_Christian Duty in regard to Vice_; a letter to the International Congress, 1889.

_Christianity a Battle, not a Dream_; given before the Christo-Theosophical Society.

_Erroneous Method in Medical Education_; Counsel to the Medical College of the New York Infirmary, 1892.

PUBLICATIONS

_The Moral Education of the Young._ (Longmans, Green, & Co.)

_The Human Element in Sex_; a Medical Work. (J. & A. Churchill.)

_Christianity in Medicine_; published in ‘Things to Come.’ (Elliot Stock.)

_The Influence of Women in Medicine_; an Address to the Graduates of the London School of Medicine for Women. (Bell & Sons.)

_Why Hygienic Congresses fail._ (Bell & Sons.)

_The Religion of Health_; republished by the M. R. Union, 2 Leinster Place, W.

PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE LONDON

FOOTNOTES

[1] A term then applied in the West to those who were dissatisfied with every phase of our social life; they were generally noticeable for their long hair and peculiar mode of dressing.

[2] The popular name for the Democratic as opposed to the Republican candidate.

[3] I was then very shy, and much annoyed by such public notices as the following:—

‘A very notable event of the year 1848 was the appearance at the medical lectures of a young woman student named Blackwell. She is a pretty little specimen of the feminine gender, said the Boston _Medical Journal_, reporting her age at twenty-six. She comes into the class with great composure, takes off her bonnet and puts it under the seat, exposing a fine phrenology. The effect on the class has been good, and great decorum is observed while she is present. The sprightly Baltimore _Sun_ remarked that she should confine her practice, when admitted, to diseases of the heart.’—_Springfield Republican._

[4] See Appendix I.

[5] See Appendix II.

[6] I was at that time utterly unaware of the amount of degrading cruelty perpetrated by many foreign investigators upon helpless animals under methods erroneously called scientific. It required the extended observation of the physician to realise the intellectual fallacy necessarily involved in experiments which destroy the thing to be observed; and also to recognise how the constant promulgation of false theory and practice arising from erroneous methods of investigation hinders the attainment of scientific medicine.

I have long since realised that conscience and humanity must guide intellectual activity and curiosity, or we wander from the high-road of truth into a labyrinth of error. The above experience illustrates how the eager young student, thirsting for knowledge, may be blind to the unscientific or immoral methods of pseudo-science.

[7] The fine property on Stuyvesant Square, at the corner of East Fifteenth Street, has since been purchased, and is now the site of the New York Infirmary and College.

[8] This remarkable experiment of 1831, with its tragic termination, is related by Mr. Pare (Longmans, Green, & Co.) and by Mr. Craig (Trübner). It is well worth the careful study of all co-operative reformers.