CHAPTER 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.