CHAPTER VII
THE SABBATICAL YEAR
It was that winter at Bordighera that gave her strength and energy for the final uprooting. The autumn of 1898-99 was spent on a driving tour of 1100 miles through the S.E. counties of England in search of a suitable house. She set about the search in her usual business-like way,—pasting into a book all the likely houses from the agents’ lists, rejecting at a sweep all within ten miles of London, all above or below a certain price and acreage, all that fell short of the desired level above the sea, all that were in a town, or that advertised their proximity to a railway station. The tour was then planned to include as many as possible of those that remained.
There were a few unusual disqualifications. One house that attracted her belonged to the Rector of the parish, who refused to let to a Roman Catholic or a dissenter, and, although S. J.-B. was neither, she did not wish to be subjected to any test. Another house—more strangely still—was only to be let to someone who would carry on the evangelistic meetings in an out-building. “What if I were to take the house and preach Buddhism?” she said.
Finally she decided on the house which she afterwards named Windydene, near the village of Mark Cross, on the Forest Ridge of Sussex, some five or six miles south of Tunbridge Wells. “It is neither a new or an old house,” she wrote to her friend, Miss Keily,—“built probably some 50 years ago,—very comfortable and airy, and with pleasant garden and shrubberies, a good kitchen garden (much neglected of late) and about 8 acres for pasture and hay.”
Having put various negotiations and alterations in train, she returned to Edinburgh for the final winding-up.
And there was much in those last months that lingered pleasantly in her memory. In June 1898 the British Medical Association had met in Edinburgh, and S. J.-B., like most other doctors, had kept open house. Some thirty medical women were present at the meeting, and, before it broke up, Dr. Jane Walker organized a dinner under the presidency of the old Edinburgh pioneer. Mrs. Garrett Anderson and Mrs. Scharlieb were among the guests. As always, S. J.-B. spoke very happily, and a number of those present got for the first time something like a just impression of her personality.
Early in 1899 a Farewell Reception was given in her honour by the Committee of her Hospital, and some happy inspiration made the occasion not only a social success, but a gathering of unique interest. The majority of the large company were in evening dress, but the Dispensary patients were encouraged to look upon the Reception as their affair too, and they came in what dress they had. Moreover, it was no mere “meeting,” it was a real “party,” with refreshments galore in a side room, and no compulsion to listen to more speeches than one was in a mood for. The Marchioness of Bute, President of the Hospital, who was ill, was represented by one of the Vice-Presidents, Lady Helen Munro Ferguson. Lady Victoria Campbell made a point of being present, as did the Countess of Moray, and many patients, colleagues and allies of all sorts.
It was Professor Masson who moved the resolution of the evening:
“That this company, remembering all that has been done by Dr. Jex- Blake so preëminently for the medical education of women, and for the opening up of the medical profession to women, both here and elsewhere, take this opportunity of congratulating her on the present evidence of the success everywhere of the cause which owes so much to her powerful initiation and persevering advocacy; and regrets that the occasion should also be one of farewell.”
Dr. Balfour felt inclined, he said, to quote the words of the old song:
“Dost thou remember, comrade old and hoary, The days we fought and conquered side by side On fields of battle, famous now in story?”
He indicated apologetically that the words were not wholly appropriate, but S. J.-B. speedily set his mind at rest on that score. She felt old and hoary enough.
Dr. Peel Ritchie recalled how he had begun to help the women students simply from love of fair play, with no enthusiasm at all for the cause, but how he had been gradually worked up to a warmer feeling and interest; and Dr. (afterwards Sir John) Sibbald confessed that he had taken no part in the old conflict at all; but acknowledged gladly that his original dislike to the whole thing had gradually given way as he had watched the life of the protagonist, with increasing admiration, appreciation and....”
At that fine silence he left it.
A bouquet of roses was presented by Dr. Jessie Macgregor, one of the most brilliant of S. J.-B.’s students; and a basket of flowers by Winifred Beilby, daughter of a lady who had been a member of Committee for many years, and a patient from the first.
Yes, it was a great send-off, and S. J.-B. was simple-hearted enough to enjoy it all like a child.
There were other tokens of recognition too,—among them a presentation from a great number of women doctors, and another from the Dispensary patients.
* * * * *
There is no doubt that Dr. Sibbald voiced the opinion of many in his tribute to S. J.-B. For years she had lived among the Edinburgh people, driving about in her quiet brougham or unpretentious pony- chaise, and retiring to the high-walled garden. In a way they could not but get to know her. They might like or dislike her, but she went on her way, doing her work absolutely without ostentation, welcoming publicity when it seemed likely to forward her aims or the welfare of the community, shunning it absolutely as a matter of private taste.
With most of these whose opinion was worth having, opposition and dislike were simply worn down. She was impulsive, she made mistakes and would do so to the end of her life: her naturally hasty temper and imperious disposition had been chastened indeed, but the chastening fire had been far too fierce to produce perfection. She held out at times about trifles,—failed to see that they _were_ trifles—and at times she terrified people more than she knew. Above all she cared nothing for the praise and blame of any but those whom she respected or loved. Of her indeed it might be said that she heard the beat of a different drummer. But there was another side to the picture after all. Many of those who regretted and criticised details were yet forced to bow before the big transparent honesty, the fine unflinching consistency, of her life.
“Yes, it was simply greatness. There was nothing else I could say, I had hedged my path more straitly, But [hers] was the kinglier way.”
* * * * *
It remains only to give some picture of S. J.-B.’s life in retirement. Dr. Clouston had shaken his head when he heard what she proposed to do. It was a great risk to give up a life packed with work and interest for one of leisure.
“I am not going to be idle,” she had said. “I am going to farm.”
“Then you’ll lose a lot of money.”
“I can’t lose much on ten acres.”
“_Ah!_” He seemed to indicate that ten acres was not enough; but as a matter of fact S. J.-B. reaped now all the advantage of that love of detail which had so often proved a snare. “Windydene” had been unoccupied and more or less neglected for some time, so there was abundant scope for an enterprising “Squire.” And the situation was as choice as even the county of Sussex can provide. From the terrace one looked right across to the South Downs, and even Fairlight was supposed to be visible on a clear day. The garden had been ideally planned on ground that fell away rather steeply to the south. It had spacious lawns cunningly planted, some of the trees being of real value and beauty.
Beyond the lawns were shady paths and all sort of unexpected openings and surprises; and beyond these again were the meadows hedged with blackberries, and carpeted in spring with cowslip and ladies’ smock. From the meadows one passed through to the woods, and so to the whole billowy stretch of the Weald, with its varied foliage, its blue lights and chasing shadows, its lakes of white mist in the still summer mornings.
S. J.-B. had seen the place first in November. She actually took possession in May, when the red chestnuts were in bloom and the woods full of bluebells.
“‘The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places’,” she said, “‘I have a goodly heritage’;” and the words were constantly on her lips till the end. Kipling’s “Sussex by the Sea” might have been written for her, so gratefully did she take possession of it.
“Each to his choice, and I rejoice The lot has fallen to me In a fair ground—in a fair ground— Yea, Sussex by the sea!”
Her first care was to institute a fruit garden, building a south wall and planting vines, figs, peaches, nectarines and apricots. In the course of a few years her strawberries in particular had acquired quite a reputation.
She started a dairy too, and supervised it herself. It was a real joy to her to have cows in the paddock and to produce her own cream and butter. The hay-making and the harvest supper were great events in the year.
But long before she had got as far as this—before the house was more than tolerably straight after the great flitting—she was inviting guests to share the joys of the spring and summer. All through the later years of her life she had the intimate daily companionship she prized so generously, but her doors stood open always as of old. “Windydene is a Mecca,” one of the younger medical women said, and there were those to whom it was a Mecca and something more. From S. J.-B.’s old fellow-students down to some unknown girl graduate, they came from all parts of the world. We have seen what Dr. Lillie Saville thought of life at Windydene, and indeed Lady Jenkinson’s “soul and body, especially soul” often finds an echo. A woman doctor who met S. J.-B. first at that British Medical Association dinner in Edinburgh writes years later:
“Thinking it over, I see that the best new influence that came into my life during the last seven years was the Doctor’s young fresh interest, her enthusiasm, her breadth of mind, her spiritual force and faith, and her strong original wisdom.”
But it was not only women doctors who came. Literary folk were guests too, and, above all, the old friends, whatever they had chanced to become. Miss Du Pre, Lady Jenkinson, Miss Catharine Eliott-Lockhart, Miss E. Cordery, Mrs. Gardiner, Mr. James Cordery, Mr. Phipson and Dr. Pechey Phipson, Mrs. (Dr.) Mears, and many others. The arrival of Dr. Agnes M‘Laren from her season’s practice on the Riviera was one of the events of the early summer; she always came by Newhaven and so to Crowborough, where S. J.-B. faithfully awaited her. A still earlier event in the year was the arrival of Miss Caroline Jex-Blake, “when the primroses were out,” and her joy in the meadows and woods was a thing that only those who knew her could conceive.
Little enough entertainment in the ordinary sense was offered to the guests at any time. Breakfast in bed was an unfailing institution for tired workers, and most of the guests were tired workers. There was fruit and cream to heart’s content and beyond it; there were long leisurely drives uphill and down dale through that beautiful country,[158]—plenty of chess for those who were worthy of chess,— unforgettable evenings round the study fire; and at all other times— stated meals apart—an almost unlimited choice of books,—and liberty to do as one pleased.
Footnote 158:
“I took her to see the pixies,” writes S. J.-B. to a friend, in June, “I don’t think she did see any, but she greatly enjoyed the woods, etc.”
* * * * *
S. J.-B. used to say that her one extravagance at Windydene was journals and books. She had always been a book buyer, and books were more essential than ever now. New shelves had to be put up every year or so. Her collection of recent novels alone induced a well- known publisher to say that she ought to have a testimonial from authors and publishers. There was a certain amount of practical benevolence in this. In Edinburgh she had often said that an important part of her treatment of patients was the lending of suitable novels, and at Windydene she often had twenty or thirty books out at a time. Her taste was catholic in the extreme, but she specially appreciated among others _Peter Ibbetson_, _San Celestino_ and _Out of Due Time_; and—like so many distinguished people—she keenly enjoyed detective stories, especially for reading in the watches of the night.
She had lost none of her love of poetry. The “poetry book-case” had an honoured place as of old; but, as she sat in her big chair by the fire, she had a revolving stand filled with special favourites within reach of her right hand, and, on her left (in the angle of the chimney-piece) a tiny set of shelves brought from the corresponding nook in her Edinburgh consulting room, contained her Mother’s Bible and a few other chosen friends.
But the range of her purchases during those later years was very wide: almost at random one recalls Blomefield’s _Norfolk_, all Father Tyrrell’s works, a whole library of books on social problems,—industry, poverty, labour, etc.—and a fine copy of _The Book of the Dead_.
She retained her old interest in what one may call the polemics of religion, and this was intensified by a delightful and unexpected friendship of those later days.
She had not been many weeks in Mark Cross before some mutual friend suggested that she might care to know the Roman Catholic priest—a man, as it chanced, of scholarship and culture—following up the suggestion with the loan of a book which the priest had published some years before.[159] A few days later S. J.-B. wrote the following letter:
“June 15th [1899].
DEAR SIR,
I have been reading your book on Reunion with very great sympathy and admiration; and, if you care to call on an elderly woman who is not of your creed, I should be very glad to have the honour of making your acquaintance.
I expect to be at home tomorrow afternoon, or could fix any day except Monday, next week, if more convenient to you.
Yours truly, SOPHIA JEX-BLAKE, M.D.
Rev. Father Duggan.”
Footnote 159:
_Steps towards Reunion._ The book had been put on the Index Expurgatorius.
It did not strike the looker-on as a specially likely combination, but it was the unlikely thing that happened. The Revd. Father Duggan became one of the most welcome guests at Windydene. He and his dog, Caesar, used to drop in almost every Sunday afternoon for strawberries on the lawn or tea round the study fire. I don’t pretend that Caesar took any interest in the strawberries—possible rabbits were a more absorbing subject—but he did enjoy his bowl of tea, especially when a lump of sugar remained at the bottom as a _bonne bouche_. He was the centre of interest when his turn came, and, when the anticipated “crunch” was heard, the general laugh of sympathy never failed. They were just happy children together,—the Dog, the Reverend Father and the old Pioneer, and now the world is the poorer for the loss of all three.
There were great talks on those Sunday afternoons; it was no uncommon thing to see three versions of the Bible and half a dozen volumes of the _Encyclopaedia_ lying about at the end to witness to the interest of the discussion. There was much borrowing and lending of books,—and no obvious change of view on the part of anyone except in the direction of increased tolerance and brotherly kindness. A very simple anecdote will give as good an idea as any of the nature of the friendship.
Father Duggan had been the lender of Canon Cheyne’s _Commentary on the Psalms_, which he had just reviewed for a daily paper.
“I won’t pretend that I read the whole of it,” said S. J.-B. in returning the volumes. “In fact”—with a sparkle of mischief,—“I noticed when it came that only about a quarter of the leaves were cut.”
“Yes,” he admitted tranquilly. “I did think of cutting a few more before sending it up to you,—but I didn’t.”
“_Ah, no!_” she said. “You were an honest man.”
She was on excellent terms, too, with the local doctors: they looked forward to a chat when they met her in the country lanes, and, if, when she left Edinburgh, there had been any hatchet left to bury, their boyish camaraderie would soon have compelled her to bury it. “I confess I had a prejudice against women doctors,” one of them said after her death, “but she disarmed me completely.”
The life at Windydene was not unbroken. The clay soil in that wooded garden was not conducive to the health of a rheumatic person like S. J.-B., so several brief winters were spent at various places on the Riviera, and one in Portugal, mainly in the Sacred Forest at Bussaco. At Carqueiranne in Provence one of the editors of the _Matin_ was a fellow guest, and he proved another unexpected comrade. It must have been a matter of some surprise to him to meet in that unlikely place, an elderly English gentlewoman with a grasp of the range of European politics and a facility for discussing it in excellent French.
It was at Carqueiranne that she and the intimate friend of those days met Mr. Frederic Myers and Professor William James, and here too there was a pleasant _partie carrée_ for some days with Professor and Mrs. Gardiner who were on a cycling tour in the south of France. Professor Gardiner had several times been S. J.-B.’s guest in Edinburgh, when his researches brought him north to inspect some unique document among the archives there, and it was a pleasant change to meet when both were in purely holiday mood.
In the late Autumn of 1909—in spite of increasing physical disqualifications—she made a last driving tour to her beloved Yarrow.
* * * * *
It is needless to say that she never lost her interest in the happenings of the world. She had latterly a profound distrust of Germany, and was an eager reader of the articles on this subject in the _National Review_. _The Riddle of the Sands_ was a novel that she helped to circulate widely. Her name appeared pretty frequently in the correspondence columns of the _Times_, sometimes in connection with Woman Suffrage, more often in unavailing protest against the endless “joy-riding”—degenerating into the sheer lawlessness of the “road-hog”—that was making the loveliest English lanes a nightmare of dust and danger.
It was to the _Times_, too, that she sent her last tribute to the most heroic of her Edinburgh friends in the old days of the “fight.”
“SIR,—It seems impossible to let the grave close over the mortal remains of Professor Masson without one word of heartfelt gratitude from those whom he befriended so nobly in 1869 and the following years. Our struggle with the University was hard enough as it was, but without his help and that of half a dozen other men it would have been impracticable. I feel that it is really quite impossible to do justice to the chivalry, the unselfishness, the constant readiness to espouse the unpopular cause, and to fight in its foremost ranks, which characterized Professor Masson, and it would take far too much of your space to say even a fraction of what could be said of the aid he gave us in that great battle.
But I beg you at least to allow me to say that those so deeply indebted to him will never forget him, but hold his memory in love and reverence as long as they live.
Yours obediently, SOPHIA JEX-BLAKE.
Windydene, Mark Cross, Sussex, Oct. 10 [1907].”
The suffrage movement was always near her heart, though she never grew restless or impatient over the long delay. She never approved of tax-resistance, and militant methods made her uneasy, though she admitted that they had given the cause a prominence that nothing else could have done. Looking back in 1879 on her own fight she had been able to say, “We seemed led all the way; certainly our aim was straight at the end [before us], but ‘highly and holily’ too. I never minded dirt of others’ throwing, but I don’t think I ever smirched my own conscience.” It was in her favour that the Editor of the _Spectator_ broke through his stern rule of excluding all letters advocating the extension of the franchise to women. “Our respect for so eminent a lady makes it a pleasure to publish Dr. Sophia Jex-Blake’s letter.”
It was this question of the suffrage, too, as we shall see, that brought her for the last time into touch with Octavia Hill.
S. J.-B.’s outer circle had never suspected her of being “religious,” and even by the fireside she spoke less perhaps, rather than more, on the subject as time went on; but the old quotations kept flashing up to witness to the fire beneath. She was always profoundly interested in any genuine profession of faith, any real conversion or perversion. Several of her friends joined the Church of Rome in those later years, and she was one to whom they always felt the need of justifying themselves. They felt sure of an underlying sympathy, however she might disapprove. Often, of course, she declined to take the matter too seriously. To an old student she wrote:
“I am not at all shocked at your Sunday programme, but I must say I am amused at your going to a dissenting chapel.”
And again:
“I don’t trouble myself much about who goes ‘over to Rome’ and who does not. After all for each one,—‘To his own Master he stands or falls,’ and what we must ask of each is to act to the best of his lights.
But I think ‘subterfuging’ implies dim lights.”
Her own attitude grew steadily simpler, enriching the vital elements of her Mother’s creed with the wisdom and experience of her own life. As time went on she disliked increasingly to be classed with those whose attitude towards religion is one of indifference. Even before she left Edinburgh she had written to an old school friend, in acknowledgement of a book by another schoolfellow:
“To speak plainly then it strikes me as crude and superficial,—as the work of a person who has caught up passwords rather than of one who has struggled through the conflict of thought personally. It reminds me forcibly of the old proverb, ‘Qui pauca considerat facile pronuntiat.’ The deeper we go into problems, whether social or religious, the less possible it seems to me to pronounce about them offhand.
In theology you would, I suppose, rank me among the Agnostics, as I feel very strongly how little we _know_ on such subjects, and that the truly scientific aspect of mind is one of suspension of judgment; but I have no sympathy at all with C.’s attacks on Christianity and the alleged motives of its advocates, and still less with her estimate of the character of Christ.
The programme of Socialism strikes me (so far as I understand it) as unworkable, because it ignores a great many of the facts of human nature; and I am sure you are right in thinking that the true path of progress lies in gradual improvement, and gradual removal of unjust restrictions, rather than in sudden violence and revolution.”
To a much more intimate friend she had written about the same time:
“Yes, I think —— is what I should call an Agnostic, but perhaps you from lordly heights of orthodoxy don’t appreciate that that differs ‘toto caelo’ from an atheist; and that it is one of the most offensive of errors,—and one frequently made from culpable carelessness,—to substitute the one for the other.”
Her appreciation of the Bible increased—and it had always been an exceptional appreciation;—but there are two quotations that stand out in one’s memory as belonging to her in a special sense. She always appropriated to herself with great fervour the prayer of Agur:—“Two things have I required of thee...: Remove far from me vanity and lies; give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with food convenient for me; lest I be full and deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord? or lest I be poor and steal, and take the name of my God in vain.”
And more than once, after quoting the words from Isaiah:—“Thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones,” she added almost under her breath,
“I am not sure that that is not the finest thing in the whole Bible.”
But while she was one of those to whom the Old Testament makes perhaps a special appeal, it was not by accident that at the time of her death, and for years previously, the words were fixed above the mantelpiece, both in her study and in her bedroom,—“Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.”
* * * * *
Some years before leaving Edinburgh, S. J.-B. had a heart attack which caused Dr. Balfour grave uneasiness, and, although she rallied in the course of a week, similar attacks kept recurring at considerable intervals. On one occasion at Windydene she was unconscious for several hours, and finally “came out of blackness” to ask with great calmness, “Well, what do you suppose has happened?”
Within a week of this attack she started for the Riviera.
It is probable that she never fully realized the seriousness of these cardiac signs and symptoms; but, in one way or another, death knocked at her door pretty frequently during those later years.
In 1901-2, she suffered from a mysterious and anomalous “growth,” for which a leading London surgeon refused to operate on the ground that she was a bad subject. She was not sorry for the refusal, but the enemy grew with appalling rapidity, and it became increasingly clear that something would have to be done. All through the period of uncertainty she went on with her life absolutely as usual. “I did wake up one night in a horror of great darkness,” she confessed, “wondering what was going to happen; but very soon Whittier’s words came into my mind:
“I know not what the future hath Of marvel or surprise, Assured alone that life and death His mercy underlies....
I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air; I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care.”
And then I just turned over on the other side and went to sleep again.”
“How thankful we should be,” she said on another occasion, “that we don’t know what is before us. Life is hard enough, it would be much harder if we knew.”
When a friend remarked on her courage, she said,—and this was a remark repeated many times before the end of her life,—“No, no. I have been brave sometimes in my life, but not now. There is nothing to be brave about now.”
In response one day to a warmer expression of admiration, she almost cried out in protest,—“_Oh!_ ... God be merciful to me a sinner. That is what one feels more and more.” Then, after a pause:
“‘Suffice it if—my good and ill unreckoned, And both forgiven through Thy abounding grace— I find myself by hands familiar beckoned Unto my fitting place.’”
Another day she said, “My life here will not be much longer, but I feel that I have not reached the end. I have learnt a great deal, and I have a great deal still to learn. Unless one has absolutely _refused_ to learn, one must get the chance to learn more.”
Her friend quoted Thring. “My creed is life. Blessed is life the King, etc.”
“Ah,” she said, “I don’t know that it will be _better_ than this life, but it will give us the chance to learn fresh things.”
It was on that occasion that she looked death in the face while still in full possession of her powers—“‘I laid me down with a will,’” she said—; but for the moment the sacrifice was not required of her. When the malady reached a point at which surgical interference was at worst a necessary palliative, she proposed to ask two of her own old students to come and undertake an operation. It was represented to her that it was scarcely fair to put so great a responsibility on them,[160] so she wrote to her friend, Mr. Cathcart of Edinburgh, asking him to come and undertake the case. He came at once, of course, and the operation proved a triumphant success.[161]
Footnote 160:
At that time very few women had come into the front rank as surgeons.
Footnote 161:
Her old fellow student, Dr. Annie Clark, who had graduated with her at Berne, came from Birmingham to give the anaesthetic.
So life was given back to her just as she had laid it down, and the remaining years were in some respects the happiest and most peaceful she had known. She renewed her youth, though in truth she had never grown old, and lived more than ever in the life of her “girls.” She had always said, “Not me, but us.” Now more and more the “us” came into the centre of her scheme of life. Perhaps her last ambition was that some British University should give her its honorary degree, but her friends only realized this when she had already laid the ambition down. “I shall never have a University hood,” she said once or twice quite simply. All the more she enjoyed the glories of the young women doctors who were coming on. She listened to their accounts of what they had learned and of what they had done with an admiration that was nothing short of poignant in its simplicity. Her own share in the whole thing simply dropped out. At most she would say when some gifted visitor was gone, “Wonderful the work she is doing! Well, I did help a little bit once upon a time, didn’t I?”
It was when one of her old girls seemed face to face for the first time with that most bitter disappointment in a doctor’s experience,— the loss of a patient for whose life one has fought with repeated recrudescence of hope in the teeth of despair,—that S. J.-B. wrote one of her last letters:
“Windydene, 7 p.m. March 19th. 1911.
DEAR CHILD,
I _am_ so sorry for you, and I think of you so much! It is an experience that has to come to all of us who live in our work,— and we must believe ‘we shall see in heaven why it could not be otherwise.’
Meanwhile ‘the Healer by Gennesaret shall walk thy rounds with thee.’
When it is all over,—for I suppose that is now the end,—I think you should come down here for a few perfectly quiet days. We shall be so glad to have you.
Yours sincerely, S. J.-B.”
There was, of course, one visitor whom she would fain have welcomed to her “pleasant places.” She had followed Octavia Hill’s life with unfailing interest, and had subscribed to the Derwentwater scheme, and to other of Miss Hill’s beneficent works. In July or August 1910 a letter opposing the extension of the suffrage to women appeared in the _Times_ above the signature of Octavia Hill. S. J.-B. replied to the letter, regretting that Miss Hill should have “given the support of her honoured name” to the negative side of the controversy. The _Times_ did not often refuse a communication from S. J.-B., but on this occasion her letter was not inserted. Perhaps the trifling episode called up memories too insistent to be stilled, for a day or two later she wrote to her old friend:
“August 5th. 1910. Windydene, Mark Cross, Sussex.
DEAR,
I wrote enclosed mainly as an answer to yours in the _Times_, and as it has been sent back to me, crowded out, I send it to you,—to show you another old woman’s point of view.
I am rheumatic and lame now, and cannot go about much, but I wish you would come down and spend two or three days with me here on the Sussex hills, and we would thrash out this Suffrage question— surely one of us ought to be able to convince the other!
And I _should_ like to see you again!
Yours sincerely, S. JEX-BLAKE.
I grieved greatly with you in your loss in June.”[162]
Footnote 162:
Miss Miranda Hill died in June 1910.
Miss Octavia Hill had allowed herself no “sabbatical year,” and she was flagging in harness. Her life had been spent in unremitting service of her fellow men. She answered her old friend’s letter, but she could not respond. One has no difficulty in understanding her attitude now. A conventional meeting would have been useless, and anything else would have involved a greater upheaval than most people are willing to face as life goes on.
And it well may be that she had acted wisely all along. As Mrs. Jex- Blake had said many years before with that strange _pre_vision that is given sometimes to the pure in heart,—“God has two great works,— one for her, one for you.”
Those two great works could never have been combined.
And, indeed, no one with a disposition like S. J.-B.’s can go through life without losing friends. She might have said with St. Teresa,—“For one thing, the devil sometimes fills me with such a harsh and cruel temper; such a spirit of anger and hostility at some people, that I could eat them up and annihilate them.” But, as in the case of St. Teresa, the obverse side of the medal was a capacity for loving that can seldom have been surpassed in our human nature. “Went not my heart with thee...?” she used to say: and it did,—not only with those nearest to her, but with all who appealed to her mother-heart. The comforting letter was written, in spite of all fatigue and inconvenience, at the earliest possible moment: the box of flowers, the grapes, the wine, the cheque, the open hospitable doors,—all seemed messengers waiting for their turn, like the swift- heeled servants of the Fairy Queen.
No appeal ever came to her that she ignored. The Charity Organisation Society was familiar with her name; and great sometimes was her disappointment when those she wanted to help were pronounced hopeless or unworthy. Nothing that she loved ever grew old. Her friends, her horses,—even the purely material things to which she was attached—grew more beautiful in her eyes as their market value decreased. She always parted deliberately with the flowers that had stood by her hand. No one was ever allowed to throw them away as a matter of routine, and often she would raise them to her lips before putting them in the fire.
St. Teresa’s love no doubt was a more transcendent thing. It was her lot to live in an age of faith. S. J.-B. often quoted Whittier’s _Autograph_:
“If of the Law’s stone table, To hold he scarce was able The first great precept fast, He kept for man the last.
Through mortal lapse and dulness What lacks the Eternal Fulness, If still our weakness can Love Him in loving man?”
There are those of whom Teresa herself said:
“They may have more merit in His eyes than their more favoured neighbours, because their obedience and their faith and their love have cost them more. Their Lord deals with them as with strong and valiant men, appointing them travail and trouble here, that they may fight for Him the good fight of faith, and only come in for the prize at the end.”
No portrait gives any adequate idea of Sophia Jex-Blake. Someone who saw her first in 1886 writes:
“Although too stout in figure, she had a fine commanding presence, and one was struck at once by the exceeding _comeliness_ of her face. It was strong, wise and benevolent, capable of an extraordinary range of expression. The brow was ideally shaped, broad and serene in repose, though always liable to the summer lightnings that one half admired, half dreaded. Her hair was growing white, but the eyebrows remained black till the end, and the eyes, both by nature and by the long discipline of life, were extraordinarily fine and expressive.”
It was twenty years later than this that a girl friend said,—“She has the look of one ‘following fearlessly’.” Throughout life, the tendency to sadness of expression was wholly contradicted by her smile; her eyes very readily bubbled over with merriment; as some reporter had said in the days of the fight, “With those dimples she must be good-natured.” When an old servant was shown the final portrait in this volume, she said, “But I want her to look up at me and laugh as she used to do!”
* * * * *
One does not wish to dwell on the history of the last few months. From the physical point of view it is a familiar story. One by one every medicament lost its efficacy: the failing heart ceased to invigorate one organ after another. But the strong and disciplined will held the shattered tabernacle together. Sometimes acute symptoms forced her to stay in bed for a day or two, but she always struggled on to her feet again at the earliest possible moment and went for the daily drive through her beloved lanes and woods. True that towards the end she noticed these less and less,—drowsed most of the way; but, if there was occasion to rouse herself and speak to anyone, she did so almost as of old.
“The worst of lying awake at night,” she used to say whimsically, “is that one realizes all the mistakes one has made in one’s life.” It was not even _lying_ awake sometimes: it was a weary sitting up or lying down as each position in turn became intolerable. And often, after only three minutes’ unconsciousness, she would exclaim in something like the old happy voice, “I have had such a lovely sleep!”
Almost to the last day she repeated bits of her favourite poems and psalms,—and nothing gave her so much pleasure as to plan holidays for those who still had a day’s work before them. She was infinitely mindful of those who tended her. Almost her last words were,—“Now do go and have a good rest.”
And so the end came,—suddenly but not unexpectedly. She sat down one day more tired than usual—it was the 7th January, 1912—stretched herself back, and rendered up her soul to God who gave it.
* * * * *
A great wave of feeling arose in the village and round about when it was known that the familiar figure of the old warrior would no more be seen in her Sussex lanes. Perplexed at first, her neighbours of all classes had come in a measure to understand her, to be proud of her,—some of them to love her. With one or two, indeed, she had formed a warm and intimate friendship. There was every token of respectful sympathy and mourning when the little procession made its way to Rotherfield Church.[163]
Footnote 163:
By a strange coincidence she lies within a few yards of her old friend and champion, Sir James Stansfeld. See Appendix G.
And that wave of feeling went out over the whole world. Messages and tributes of appreciation and regret poured steadily in. The most beautiful and adequate was the paragraph in the _Pall Mall Gazette_:
“The woman as Happy Warrior has passed away with the death in her Sussex home of Sophia Jex-Blake. There is scarcely an attribute of the great figure in Wordsworth’s poem which she did not possess, with the crowning added happiness of seeing her fame as a noble and successful pioneer in a great movement finally established. She it was, more than anyone else, who compelled the gates of the medical profession to be opened to women. Through years of hostility and obloquy she never lost heart in her Cause; and, meeting violence with reason and coarseness with dignity, she won at last. Her longest and bitterest fight was with the University of Edinburgh; and, later, when Parliament had recognized the right of women to be doctors, it was in that city that she practised for twenty-one years. Since the death of Florence Nightingale no woman has died of whom more truly may it be written, _Bene actæ vitæ recordatio jucundissima est_.
But the reader may find a special propriety in a very simple resolution passed a few days later in an Over Seas dominion:
“That the members of the University Women’s Club of Toronto do place on record their deep sense of the great influence and noble life of Dr. Sophia Jex-Blake. Now that her distinguished career has closed, they feel that she was the helper of all University women,—and they love her for many reasons.”
THE END
APPENDIX A PEDIGREE OF THE JEX-BLAKE FAMILY
S. J.-B.’s father was one of the Blakes of Bunwell, Scottow, etc., in the county of Norfolk.
A family of Blakes settled at Bunwell in 1620. It is said traditionally that they came from Somersetshire and were descended from the same family as Robert Blake, the great Admiral of the Commonwealth, being probably a branch of the original family of the Blaks, Blaaks or Blakes of Pinnels in the parish of Cawne or Calne, Co. Wilts., there seated as early, at least, as 1400. These families bore the same arms with slight differences, namely, argent a chevron between three garbs sable. Crest, on a chapeau gules turned up ermine, a martlet argent.
In the chancel of Bunwell Church, near the altar rails, is a tombstone with the following inscription:
Under this Stone lyeth the Body of Mr John Blake He dyed the 21 of August 1686 being sixtie 4 Yeares of age and upwards.
Above this legend are the arms of Blake as above: on the chevron a fleur-de-lis for difference.
From this gentleman is descended in direct line all the present family through his fourth son, Robert Blake, who settled at Scottow about 1680, marrying Margaret, eldest daughter of William Durrant of Scottow Hall. Their son, Thomas Blake of Scottow, born November 7th, 1689, married Elizabeth, daughter of John Jex, Esq. of Lowestoft, and the grandson of these last, William Blake of Swanton Abbots, in the Commission of the Peace, and Deputy Lieutenant for Norfolk, having inherited the chief part of the Jex property, obtained on his petition by Royal Licence on August 17th, 1837, that he and his descendants should assume and use the surname Jex in addition to and before that of Blake, and also bear the arms of Jex quarterly, in the second quarter, with those of Blake.[164]
Footnote 164:
See _The London Gazette_, Friday, August 25, 1837.
APPENDIX B “WORDS FOR THE WAY.”[165]—No. 2. REST
“There remaineth a Rest for the people of God.”—HEB. IV. 9.
Footnote 165:
The authors have sought to supply a want, more or less widely felt, of simple Tracts, which, while endeavouring to set forth the deepest truths of Christianity, shall avoid the phraseology of certain schools, as jarring on the minds of many.
Those who see any degree of successful effort in the Tracts already published are invited to assist in obtaining for them, and others of the series, such a circulation as may best ensure their usefulness.
What is the thing that you wish for most in the world?
I cannot hear your answers to my question, and I do not suppose that everyone to whom it is addressed would answer it in the same way; but I must try and fancy to myself what you would be most likely to say. And first I suppose that each of you would be likely to wish for that of which he has most felt the need.
Some of you, perhaps, who are very poor, would say, “Money.” Well, money is a very good thing, and, if we know how to use it rightly, a great blessing for which to thank God when He gives it to us; but you might have money, and yet be far from happy—yet have a great many of your deepest wants unsatisfied. And very many of those who have most money would be the first to tell you that this is the case; and I am sure that with very little of it, it is possible to be very happy if we have some other things.
I hardly think that money is what we should wish for most.
Those of you who are very ill, and who are constantly suffering pain that seems to be always coming freshly upon you, would perhaps say, “Health.” Well, that too is a very good and great gift of God’s, and those of us who have it should thank Him very much for it, and pity heartily and helpfully those who have it not. But I think that with even this blessing, there may be very great wants left; and I believe that it is possible to be very blessed without it. I do not think that Health satisfies the deepest want of our nature.
And some of you perhaps, who have felt how sad it is to be ignorant of many things that it would be so good to know, and who are longing to learn more about God and His great and wonderful works, might say that “Knowledge” was the gift which of all others you desire.
Some again who have felt how sad it is to stand all alone in this great world, every part of which God has made so dependent on the rest,—who long for some heart to lean upon in all life’s troubles, some hand to help to cut a way through them, will say that “Love” is the greatest blessing that it seems to them possible to receive.
I have no doubt that if I were really talking to you, or, still better, could see the thoughts of your hearts, I should be told of many wants which you earnestly desire to have satisfied,—wants, some of them belonging to the lower and some of them to the higher part of that wonderful nature which God has given to us all.
And now perhaps you would like to hear _my_ answer to this question I have been asking of you, “What is the thing we most want?” It seems to me that there is one blessing which sums up in itself—which seems to imply or to contain—almost all others, and which, if we go deeply enough into it, does really satisfy all the great wants of our nature. This is REST.
Now let us think what Rest is: and see whether if you had that, you would have the deepest part of all your wants satisfied.
You said you wanted Money? Well, was not the comfort which you thought money could give you, just that freedom from care and anxiety which we call Rest?—was it not really for this, and not for the money itself, you longed?
And you wanted Health? Is it not just because health would give you rest from pain and from continual weariness that it seems to you the best of all things? Does not Health for you really mean Rest?
And is it not because there is something that you are always longing to know and understand that you desire so much to have Knowledge? Is not your wish for it founded on the feeling that God gave you a mind and understanding which can only be satisfied by learning and knowing. Do you not really desire knowledge that your intellect may have some firm standing ground?—that it too may have Rest?
And most of all do not you who long for Love, long for it because you feel that to have some one beside you to feel for you and help you, to pray with and work with you through all the labours of this life, is the nearest approach to Rest that we can have on earth, except that deepest Rest which comes through feeling the constant nearness of Him who loves most of all, who “will never leave thee nor forsake thee” (Heb. xiii. 5). If then we can but look forward to Rest, are we not sure of having _all_ that we need?
And it is just this that is promised to us in the text we read at the beginning, “There remaineth a Rest for the people of God.” God knows so well all our wants, and knows so well what will best supply them, that all through the Bible you will find beautiful promises about Rest. Let us look at a few of them. Job in the midst of his great troubles speaks of the future life as that “where the weary are at Rest” (Job. iii. 17). The prophet Jeremiah promises to those who will hear God’s will and seek to do it, that they “shall find Rest for their souls” (Jer. vi. 16). Our Lord Jesus Christ knew well about this deepest want in our nature when He spoke that most beautiful of invitations to all who heard Him on earth, and to all who read His words now, “Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly of heart: and ye shall find Rest unto your souls” (Matt. xi. 28, 29).
And the whole argument of the chapter from which the text we are talking about is taken, is this, “Let us therefore fear, lest, a promise being left us of entering into His Rest, any of us should seem to come short of it” (Heb. iv. 1).
But now let us ask what is implied or meant by those last words about “coming short of it?” What is meant by our Lord’s telling people that they must “take His yoke upon them” and be “meek and lowly of heart” if they would find Rest? What is meant when Rest is promised specially to the “people of God”?
Now, if we believe that God loves us as He does, quite infinitely— more than we can even understand—we may be quite sure that He will always give us every good thing that He can—that He will never put any limit to His promises if He can help it—that He would like to give Rest and all other good things to everyone if it were possible.
We must never doubt for one moment God’s willingness to give us all good things, and to do all for us that it is possible for love to do. Remember what Christ says about that, “If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven know how to give good things to them that ask Him (Matt. vii. 11). And again, “I say not that I will pray the Father for you; for the Father himself loveth you” (John xvi. 26, 27). And St. Paul tells us that “He that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him freely give us all things?” (Rom. viii. 32).
So you see that we may be quite sure that if we do not get this great blessing, Rest, it will not be because God is not willing to give it to us.
But there are certain great principles, which we call laws, which govern God’s world, which are of the very nature of God’s own being, and the more we come to know and realize about these laws, the more we shall find them to be the most wonderfully good and beautiful and blessed ones which could be imagined, and see in every one of them some great and glorious provision for the best possible things, which could not come without them.
Now you know God made man in His own image (Gen. i. 27), and, though man afterwards broke that beautiful image and lost the perfect likeness that God had given him to Himself—(as we are told in Eccles. vii. 29, “God made man upright; but they have sought out many inventions”)—still man is so deep a partaker of God’s nature, that the truest and deepest part of him is that which is like God and akin to Him, so that St. Paul tells us, “In God we live, and move, and have our being ... for we are also his offspring” (Acts xvii. 28). Now just because our whole blessedness, and our only hope of returning at last to the perfect image in which God made us, lies in our trying to get nearer and nearer to God, and to become more and more like Him, so that our Lord Jesus bids us “Be perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect” (Matt. v. 48)—just because of this, I say, one of the great and merciful laws of God is that none of us shall ever find any true happiness apart from goodness; and no one can hope for Rest who does not seek it in the way of striving to do God’s will. Some one has said that the true Rest of the soul is attained only when God’s will is our will. So we are told by Isaiah, that “There is no peace, saith my God, for the wicked” (Isa. lvii. 21).
And “the wicked” do not mean those only who do great and shameful sins, which seem very terrible even to us, but all who do not strive in everything to do God’s will. Let us look a little more closely at what this will of God’s is.
We are told in the Old Testament what it is. Look at Isaiah i. 16, 17, “Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of thy doing from before Mine eyes; cease to do evil; learn to do well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow.” And again, look at Micah vi. 8, “He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God.”
And when we come to the New Testament, we find Our Lord Jesus Christ telling men who those are whom God blesses—what it is to do God’s will:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit. Blessed are the meek. Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness. Blessed are the merciful. Blessed are the pure in heart. Blessed are the peacemakers.” (See Matt. v.)
And while He says that that man only “shall enter into the kingdom of heaven,” who “doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven” (Matt. vii. 21), He explains that will to be, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength; and thy neighbour as thyself.... This do and thou shalt live” (Luke x. 27, 28). So that if that Rest seems to us a great and glorious thing to attain, we must seek it in God’s way; we must try to do God’s will here, that we may rest in perfect harmony and agreement with that will hereafter.
Is it not a wonderful and beautiful thing that God loves us _so_ much that He will not _let_ us be otherwise than good?—that He will not cease to remind us by constant unhappiness and restlessness that we are not fulfilling our highest end, till we strive day by day to come nearer to Him; so that at last, in that great happy day of Rest, there will be no more striving; for “we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is.”
Would you like to hear once more those words, which I daresay you know so well, and which tell us better than any others have ever done, _what_ that Rest shall be, and how it shall satisfy all our wants at last, as “eye hath not seen, nor ear heard.”
Let us turn to the Revelation of St. John, and hear the description he gives of those who have entered into Rest: “They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.” “Behold the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself shall be with them, and be their God.... And there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.” “And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light: and they shall reign for ever and ever.” “Blessed are they that do His commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city” (Rev. vii. 16, 17; xxi. 3, 4; xxii. 5, 14).
APPENDIX C CONCLUSIONS FROM “A VISIT TO AMERICAN SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES”
“The two features of American education which strike an Englishman as characteristic, are, the union of all classes in the same schools and of both sexes in the same colleges; the first being nearly universal throughout the Northern States; the second still exceptional, and as regards public opinion, still on probation.
I. That no disadvantages attend the system of mingling all classes in school can hardly, I suppose, be maintained, though it may be thought that the advantages greatly preponderate.... So far as distinctions and consequent separations of rank depend on merely external circumstances, such as wealth and position, I do not believe that we gain much by observing them; but when they rest on real differences of culture and refinement, the case becomes different, and it does not seem good policy to risk certain loss to one class, without being sure of securing a more than proportionate gain to another. In short it seems to me that, if we can mingle different classes of children in such proportions and under such conditions as to ensure that the higher standard shall prevail over the lower, and the tone of all be raised to that of the foremost few, the measure must be an altogether good one: and I am sure that to some extent and under some restrictions this may be done: but if once the inferior standard of refinement is allowed to predominate, the lower dragging down the higher rather than being raised by it, I fear that no results gained can pay for the loss accruing.
II. With regard to the joint education of the sexes, it seems to be pretty clearly established that, in America at least, this system can prosper for years without any markedly evil effects as to the morals and manners of the fellow-students, and the evidence of most professors and teachers goes strongly to show that, on the contrary, the mutual influence exerted is usually very beneficial.
It seems also to be proved that at least a considerable number of women can undertake and successfully complete the same course of study that is usual for men, and that without more apparent detriment to their health than students of the other sex.
The general issue divides itself into three practical questions: (_a_) whether men and women shall pursue the same course of study; (_b_) whether they shall continue it to the same point; and (_c_) whether their studies, if identical, shall be pursued together....
(_a_) If there is no fundamental education answering to the needs of common humanity, and, therefore, equally necessary both for men and women,—it follows that the difference of sex is more radical and more essential than is the common humanity that underlies it.... Women have, I think, from the earliest times, suffered from the fact of men’s pretensions to ‘evolve out of their moral consciousness the idea of’ a woman,—which idea has not by any means always happened to correspond with the facts that might, perhaps, afford a surer guide.... It might perhaps be shown that those who, starting with their ‘evolved idea’ of a woman, deny that the same education may safely be given to each sex because of the vast essential differences of nature, are in point of fact more incredulous of the reality of that difference than those who hold the opposite views.... The naturalist will not fear to lay meat and hay before horses and lions, cows and tigers, for neither will the lion be seduced by the offer of hay, nor will the horse and cow lose their distinctive characteristics because they both partake of it.....
I do not by any means intend to say that I desire to see the education of all women made identical with that at present given to men. It must first be proved that that education is, in truth, the best and most desirable for the human being, before we can wish to make it universal. But I do say that what is ultimately decided by the wisdom of ages to be the best possible form of culture for one human nature, must be so for another, for our common humanity lies deeper in all, and is more essential in each, than any differences.
I do not believe that women are to be ‘educated to be wives and mothers’ in any sense in which it is not equally imperative to educate boys to be husbands and fathers. I believe that each human being, developed to his or her best and utmost, will most perfectly fulfil the duties that God may appoint in each case, and if teachers and parents have ever before their eyes the aim of making good, true, and sensible women, I do not fear but they will also train the best wives and mothers....
(_b_) I confess that I have been surprised in America to find how much study young women do seem able to accomplish without material injury, but I do not know how much allowance to make for possible differences of national constitution.... My own belief, founded mainly on observation of English girls, is, that in quickness of intellect they in no way fall behind their brothers, and that during one or two hours’ study of any subject they would be quite able to keep up with them, but that after a certain time their physical powers flag,—sooner perhaps than those of boys,—and that a long continued strain is apt to be injurious to them. I state this opinion with great diffidence, however, for many of my fellow- teachers and friends assert the contrary....
Above all, be the limits of study what they may, let whatever is done be done _thoroughly_, so that the only too well deserved reproach of superficiality and incompleteness may at length be removed from our system of female education. Work half done is not merely unsatisfactory, it is absolutely injurious to the moral and mental health of the worker; and I believe it is better to omit any and every study altogether, than to allow a pupil to skim over it so as to gather together a string of words thereto relating, with no solid meaning or knowledge lying beneath.
(_c_) The third question,—whether men and women shall pursue their studies together,—I do not much care to discuss, for I am by no means sure of having sufficient data whereon to rest any opinion, and moreover it seems to me not vital to the general issue. So long as men and women can each obtain an absolutely good education, it does not appear very material whether they get it in company or not,—not material, that is, as regards the education, whatever may be the case as to the social results.
But one thing does seem to me important, viz. that not merely a similar but an identical standard should exist for all, whether it be the many or the few who avail themselves of it. This fixed standard does exist for men, being represented by the examinations and degrees of the Universities, and that the same facilities should be thrown open to women does seem to me vitally important. I have already said that I should not care to see all women aim at so high a mark; nor do I believe that, for many years, a large number would present themselves for examination. But that those who do, by earnest study, attain to the prescribed standard, should be excluded from recognition of the fact, seems to be manifestly unjust and wrong. Universities hold, I suppose, in some sense a national trust, and that trust involves all possible aid to the cause of education throughout the land.”
APPENDIX D THE EDINBURGH EXTRA-MURAL SCHOOL
The Edinburgh Extra-Mural classes are medical classes conducted by fully qualified and authorized lecturers other than the University professors. They prepare students primarily for the examinations of the Royal Colleges of Physicians and Surgeons, but their certificates are, as a matter of fact, accepted by many examining bodies. The history of the association of these classes with the University is—briefly—as follows:
In 1840 Professor Syme begged the Town Council of Edinburgh, who were then the recognized patrons of the University, to order the recognition of extra-mural classes, an argument for the innovation being “that one of the professors was so comparatively inefficient that many students, after paying his fee and obtaining his certificate of attendance, went to learn his subject elsewhere.” In 1842 the Town Council ordained that _four_ Extra-Mural classes should be allowed to count for graduation,—the classes to be chosen by each student at his discretion. The Medical Faculty of the University refused to consent to this except on the condition that any student taking such classes should have a year added to his curriculum. The Town Council refused this condition, and the Senatus, supporting the Medical Faculty, referred the matter to the Court of Law. In 1850 judgment was given against the Senatus; they appealed to the Inner House, but the judgment was confirmed in 1852. An appeal was taken to the House of Lords, but again in 1854 the Town Council gained the day. In 1855 the regulations came into operation and have ever since remained in force.
APPENDIX E LETTER TO THE _TIMES_ IN REPLY TO MRS. GARRETT ANDERSON
“TO THE EDITOR OF THE _Times_.
SIR,—I have only just seen the letter from Dr. Garrett Anderson which you published on the 5th inst., and I venture to beg that you will allow me to point out my reasons for thinking she has selected the very worst of all the alternatives suggested, when she advises Englishwomen to go abroad for medical education.
In the first place, I think that Dr. Anderson assumes greatly too much in supposing that all the Scotch Universities are permanently closed to women by the recent decision, especially when notice has already been given in Parliament that a Scotch member will, at the beginning of next Session, bring in a Bill to enable those Universities both to teach and examine female students. Even if no such Bill were announced, it would, I suppose, be open to every Scotch University at this moment to obtain the necessary powers merely by application for the sanction of the Queen in Council, as it was repeatedly stated, both by the defenders in the late suit and by those Judges who gave decisions in their favour, that it was merely the absence of Royal authority for recent changes which rendered those changes illegal. I think there is very good ground to hope that this course may be taken by one or more of the other Universities, even if Edinburgh is content to rest quietly under the imputations on her good faith which can hardly be effaced in any other way.
Even if the Scotch Universities are left out of the question, those of Cambridge and London may well be expected to move in a matter like the present; or it would hardly seem unreasonable to hope that some of the surplus revenues in Ireland might be applied in one way or other to the solution of the present difficulty.
I think, moreover, that Mrs. Anderson concedes very much more than has yet been proved when she states that the examining bodies, such as the Colleges of Physicians and Surgeons, ‘have the power to refuse to admit women to their examinations and qualifications.’ That they have the will to do so may, I fear, only be too probable, but it is at least a very open question whether such power does lie in their hands. I have been assured on very good authority that this is not the case, and at any rate I believe no decision to that effect has ever been given by a Court of Law. Certainly the _primâ facie_ assumption would be the other way. The Medical Act of 1858 in no way excludes women from the profession, and two women are actually registered under its provisions. It is, therefore, hardly credible, that when all candidates are by the Act required to submit to certain examinations, the Examining Boards should at their option be able to turn away all applicants who are not of the male sex, no mention of any such power being contained in the Act itself; nor, I think, need we assume even a desire to exclude women on the part of all the Examining Boards until application has been made to each individually; and this has never, so far as I am aware, been done at present.
I trust, therefore, that I have shown that Mrs. Anderson’s advice that all Englishwomen desiring to study medicine should at once expatriate themselves is premature in the extreme; I hope further to show that it is moreover radically erroneous in principle. Even if it should ultimately be proved (as is at present by no means the case) that women cannot obtain official examination in this country, and therefore cannot enter their names on the Register, it would still, I think, be very far from certain that their best plan was to seek such examination abroad, seeing that after having spent years of labour and much money they would, as regards legal recognition, be exactly as far as ever from gaining their end. Mrs. Anderson says that they would at least obtain ‘what is denied them in their own country, a first-class medical education.’ If it were true that such an education could not be got without going abroad, there would, no doubt, be much force in this argument, but I submit that this is not the case. Without stopping to consider the alternatives brought forward by your correspondent herself—the establishment of a new school for women or the purchase of one of the existing hospital schools—either of which seems to me infinitely preferable, Mrs. Anderson quite overlooks the fact that at this moment medical classes of first-rate quality can be obtained in Edinburgh in the Extra-Mural school (many of whose lecturers stand much higher than the University professors in public estimation),[166] and that with very little trouble a complete curriculum of medical study could be there arranged, without altering any of the existing conditions of affairs. The doors of the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary have also been thrown open to women, though under some restrictions, and excellent clinical instruction is given to them there by two of the best and most popular teachers in the city. Can any one doubt that when so much has been secured, and when every year promises increased facilities, it is infinitely better that Englishwomen should study medicine under the direction of their own countrymen, in their own language, and amid the social and hygienic conditions which will occur in their own future practice, rather than in a foreign land, from lecturers who teach in a strange language and in hospitals where all the arrangements and theories vary from those of this country, and where even the types of disease may be so far modified as greatly to lessen the value of the instruction for those who intend to practise medicine in Great Britain?
Footnote 166:
S. J.-B. was thinking mainly of Dr. Heron Watson and Dr. G. W. Balfour.
In point of fact, the question of medical education in this country may be already considered solved, even if we grant the necessity of attending lectures on every subject in the medical curriculum. It is, however, worth remark that many of the very first men in the profession are becoming more and more strongly in favour of free trade in study—_i.e._, of allowing every student to obtain his knowledge as he pleases, whether from books or from lectures, requiring only final evidence of satisfactory results. It may be that on investigation the present system will be found to rest rather on the ‘vested interests’ of teachers than on the needs of students, and, if so, the question of medical education for women will be still further simplified. At present, however, it is not needful to argue that question. I have shown that provision for the education of women after the present fashion is to a great extent already made, and that, for purposes of instruction at least, it is quite unnecessary for them to expatriate themselves.
With regard to examination, the case seems to me equally clear. No foreign diploma or degree is at present acknowledged as qualifying for registration in this country, and though it may be well for those who covet such ornamental honours to go through the examinations requisite to obtain them, I cannot see any ground on which it would be worth the while of most Englishwomen to live for years abroad to arrive at a result so eminently unpractical. We live under English law, and to English law we must conform, so far as lies in our power; if we are arbitrarily precluded from such compliance it is to the English Government that we must look for a remedy. I can imagine few things that would please our opponents better than to see one Englishwoman after another driven out of her own country to obtain medical education abroad, both because they know that, on her return after years of labour, she can claim no legal recognition whatever, and because they are equally certain 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. I do not say that a woman may not be justified in going abroad for education if her circumstances make it imperative that she should as soon as possible enter upon medical practice; but I do say, and I most firmly believe, that every woman who consents to be thus exiled does more harm than can easily be calculated to the general cause of medical women in this country, and postpones indefinitely, so far as in her lies, the final and satisfactory solution of the whole question.
It is not an easy thing to remember at all times that
‘They also serve who only stand and wait’;
but I do believe profoundly that at this moment the very best service we can do to the cause in which we are all interested is to make use of every opportunity open to us in this country to qualify ourselves as thoroughly as possible for the profession we have chosen, and then (refusing resolutely to be driven into byways or unauthorized measures) to demand, quietly but firmly, that provision for our ultimate recognition as medical practitioners which we have a right to expect at the hands of the Legislature. Mrs. Anderson seems to think it hopeless that the present Parliament should ‘promote the interests of an unrepresented class,’ but it must be remembered that one of the very strongest arguments against granting the franchise to women has always been that their substantial interests are and will be provided for by the existing Government, and a case like the present will certainly afford a crucial test of the truth of these assertions. If they be true, we cannot doubt that Parliament will in its next Session make full provision for a case of such almost unexampled hardship; and if, on the other hand, this be not done, the argument above referred to can hardly be again brought forward when the suffrage for women shall again be claimed.
Let me, therefore, conclude, as I began, by protesting as strongly as lies in my power against this idea of sending abroad every Englishwoman who wishes to study medicine; let me entreat all such women to join the class already formed in Edinburgh, the great majority of whose members are thoroughly of one mind with me in this matter, and who, having counted the cost, are, like myself, thoroughly resolved to ‘fight it out on this line,’ and neither to be driven out of our own country for education nor to be induced to cease to make every effort in our power to obtain from the Legislature that measure of justice which we imperatively need, and which is, in point of fact, substantially implied in the provisions of the Medical Act of 1858.
I am, Sir, yours obediently, SOPHIA JEX-BLAKE.
15, Buccleuch-place, Edinburgh. Aug. 8.”
APPENDIX F LETTER FROM THE PRINCIPAL OF EDINBURGH UNIVERSITY, AND S. J.-B.’S REPLY
LADY STUDENTS AT EDINBURGH
TO THE EDITOR OF THE _Times_.
SIR,—In your article on the medical education of women, under date the 23rd inst., you give utterance to reproaches against the University of Edinburgh, which appear to me to be undeserved, and which I feel sure you would not have admitted had the full circumstances of the case been before you. May I be allowed as briefly as possible to indicate what seems to me to be a correct view of those circumstances? You say:
“It was next thought that an opening for female medical students might be found or made at the University of Edinburgh, and a few were for a time actually received there. The Professors, however, were greatly divided upon the question, and those who were opposed to the necessary concessions threw every possible difficulty in the way of those who wished to make them. After much quarrelling and litigation, and after transactions which reflected very little credit on the University, a legal decision adverse to the ladies was finally given by a bare majority of Scottish Judges, and will remain binding unless carried by appeal to the House of Lords. Under these circumstances the ladies were placed in a position of great hardship and difficulty.”
I acknowledge and regret the hardship and difficulty of the position in which the ladies referred to have been placed; but this is owing to the state of the law of the land as interpreted by the Court of Session, and not to any discreditable transactions on the part of the University. I admit the manifestation, during the history of this question, of a partisan feeling both for and against the medical ladies, to some extent within the University itself, but far more in the outside public of Edinburgh; but I confidently assert that the main body of the Professors were not partisans on either side, and that the general feeling was a desire to give facilities for medical study to women, so far as this could be done consistently with the maintenance of academical good order. Again, it must be remembered that the Professors do not constitute or govern the University. The governing body is the University Court, consisting of eight members (of whom only one is a Professor), headed at present by Sir William Stirling Maxwell, as rector. I utterly deny the appearance of any unworthy feeling in the way in which this Court dealt with the questions relating to female medical education which came before it.
The University was solicited in 1869 to admit ladies, as an experiment, to the lectures of Medical Professors. There was a certain amount of opposition to this request, but the feeling of the majority in each of the constitutive bodies of the University was in favour of conceding under necessary restrictions what was asked. In one of the debates on the subject it was indeed suggested that such a concession should not be made without clearly ascertaining beforehand whether we had the power of ultimately conferring degrees upon women, should it be found on experiment that they succeeded in completing their medical curriculum and in passing the examinations. But such a delay was deprecated by the supporters of the application; it was urged that such an inquiry would be premature, as what was asked for the present was only that trial might be made of ladies in the capacity of medical students. I need hardly point out that these representations were dictated by the policy of “getting in the thin end of the wedge.” And far better for all parties, more prudent, and more consistent with the dignity of the University, would it have been, had we resisted this policy, and refused to take any step before endeavouring to ascertain our powers in respect of the graduation of women. But the University Court yielded to an impulse of liberality, and proceeded at once to frame regulations forbidding mixed classes, but permitting any professor of medicine to hold separate classes for the medical instruction of women. The applicants appeared satisfied with what was done for them; and I must say that it would then have been in their power to ascertain beforehand how many of the Professors were prepared to institute classes for them. The ladies must not now throw on the University all the blame of their disappointment, for they were not without sufficient warning that only a limited number of such classes, far short of a full curriculum, would be provided for them. The regulations said not a word of graduation or of a full course of study; they were merely permissive, and, as had been requested, tentative. But the ladies preferred to enter at once upon such lectures as they could get, trusting, apparently, to the chapter of accidents. To several of the Medical Professors it would have been impossible to open full course lectures for ladies, in addition to their ordinary duties. Some had already on hand the teaching of more than 300 students, not only by lectures, but also by daily demonstrations for many hours in the laboratory or dissecting-room. Others had extensive and important medical practice to attend to, being sought out by patients from all parts of the country. Altogether three of the Medical Professors opened classes for ladies, and of these one has had his health seriously broken down by the labour, and the two others have both declared that the burden of such extra duty was more than they could continue to bear.
Under these circumstances, the medical ladies applied that substitutes might be appointed to lecture to them in the place of such Professors as might be unable, or unwilling, to give them instruction. Now, for the first time, the University determined to seek legal advice. An impartial statement of the case was drawn up and submitted to the Solicitor-General for Scotland, with the question whether such measures as the ladies now asked were within the competency of the University? The opinion of the Solicitor- General was very strongly given, and went even beyond the exact point inquired on; it was to the effect that any step tending towards the graduation of women would be beyond the powers of the University. This opinion paralyzed the action of the University. The University Court informed the ladies, on further application from them, that it was debarred by this opinion from promoting their graduation until the legality of such graduation could be established, but it offered to make, in the meantime, arrangements for their full medical instruction, and it was suggested to the friends of the ladies that an amicable suit should be instituted with a view of ascertaining the law. These offers were rejected, and a suit was brought by the ladies against the Chancellor and Professors of the University, which has terminated, thus far, in a judgment that it is not within the powers of the University to confer a degree upon a woman.
This, Sir, is in brief the history of an unhappy affair, in which the University certainly made the mistake of consenting to an experimental arrangement which was strongly urged upon them, and for this it has been most severely punished. But I doubt if there is anything in what has occurred which can be called a “transaction reflecting little credit on the University,” with one exception— namely, that on one occasion some of the students misbehaved themselves and insulted the medical ladies. But I must say that this lamentable occurrence was occasioned by those ladies having transgressed the regulations of the University Court, and having joined a mixed class in anatomy under an extra academical lecturer. This outraged the feeling or prejudices of the students.
In conclusion, Sir, I sincerely sympathize in the earnest appeal made by Miss Jex-Blake, in the very able letter which forms the subject of your article, to the Legislature to take up the consideration of the medical education of women. It is a subject well worthy the attention of the Legislature, and one which can only be properly dealt with, as a general social subject, by the Legislature. Whether or not an University is a suitable institution for the medical instruction and examination of women is a wide question on which I will not venture to enter. But, however this be decided, all other Universities of the United Kingdom must share in the decision of the University of Edinburgh, and this University will loyally bear her part in carrying out whatever Parliament may ordain as expedient. In the meantime, under considerable obloquy, she can at all events claim to have contributed something in the way of experience to the elucidation of the question.
I am, Sir, your most obedient servant, A. GRANT, _Principal_.
_August 27._
TO THE EDITOR OF THE _Times_.
SIR,—As Sir Alexander Grant, as representative of the University of Edinburgh, has thought fit to lay before your readers a statement respecting that University and its lady students which is, to use the mildest term, imperfect in the extreme, I trust to your justice to allow me to supplement his narrative with such additional facts as he has not thought it desirable to make public.
Sir Alexander states that in 1869 the University was “solicited to admit ladies as an experiment to the lectures of the medical professors,” and further on speaks of the regulations as being, “as was requested, tentative.” He implies that all that followed was in compliance with this request, the claim to graduation being altogether an afterthought on the part of the ladies. Now, the real fact is that in March, 1869, I personally did request admission to medical lectures on these terms, but though the application was granted by the Senatus it was refused by the University Court on the express ground of the inexpediency of making any such “temporary arrangement in the interest of one lady.” About three months later four other ladies joined me in making a new and altogether different application—viz., that the University “would sanction the matriculation of women as medical students, and their admission to the usual examinations, on the understanding that separate classes be formed for their instruction.” At the same time (June 21, 1869) I addressed a formal letter to the Lord Rector of the University urging the same proposal, and asking that, if separate classes could be formed, women should be “allowed to matriculate in the usual way, and to undergo the ordinary examinations, with a view to obtain medical degrees in due course.”
Our new proposal was successively submitted to all the different authorities of the University, and received the assent of all—viz., of the Medical Faculty, the _Senatus Academicus_, the University Court, the University Council, and the Chancellor—and, after five months of consultation and consideration, regulations were, in November, 1869, framed and issued “for the education of women in medicine in the University,” these regulations being henceforth incorporated in the official University Calendar. The first of these regulations states that “women shall be admitted to the study of medicine in the University”; in the fourth regulation exceptional provision is made for “women not intending to study medicine professionally”; and the sixth regulation ordains that “all women attending such classes shall be subject to all the regulations now or at any time in force in the University as to the matriculation of students, their attendance on classes, examination, or otherwise.”
As the decision by which a bare majority of the Scotch Judges absolved the University of Edinburgh from all responsibility towards its matriculated lady students rests on the assumption that the University Court exceeded its legal powers in passing the above regulations, it may be worth while to state that the University Court comprised at that time the then Lord Advocate of Scotland (who is now Lord Justice Clerk), and also the previous Lord Advocate, Mr. Gordon, and that the regulations in question were confirmed by the Chancellor, who happens to be, as Lord Justice General of Scotland, the highest legal authority in the country. It is certainly a tolerably striking instance of the “glorious uncertainty of the law,” that the two highest Judges in the land should concur in an action which is subsequently declared by a majority of their brethren to be illegal.
Sir Alexander further goes on to suggest that we might have ascertained beforehand how many of the Professors would be willing to hold separate classes for our benefit. The answer to this is twofold. In the first place, no less than four of the medical Professors have been changed since my first application was made, and in every case the change has, as regards our interests, been for the worse. One of those Professors whose loss we have most to deplore is Sir James Simpson, whose generous liberality made him always ready to espouse the weaker cause, and whose strong sense of justice would have made him always our strenuous supporter in the councils of the University. Had he been spared, it is, indeed, more than possible that the whole history of the past four years would have been different. On these losses it was impossible for us to calculate; nor could we (before we learnt the full bitterness of professional rancour) have foreseen that those Professors who were themselves unable or unwilling to teach us would absolutely refuse their assent to every one of the alternative measures by which others might have been enabled to give us the necessary instructions. It is hardly necessary to allude to your correspondent’s rather apocryphal statement that the stupendous labour of giving two lectures a day (which is habitually undergone by Professors in the Arts Faculty) has ruined the health of one medical Professor and seriously endangered that of two more. Suffice it to say that these facts are, to say the least of it, quite new to me, and that, did space permit, I think a very different version of the circumstances might be given.
As Sir Alexander has thought fit to refer to the students’ riot in November, 1871 (though to my mind it is very far from the most discreditable episode in this history), I think it right distinctly to deny the interpretation he puts upon the event. It is true that the riot did occur while we were attending an extra-mural class of anatomy (we having utterly failed to obtain a private class, though we had offered a fee of a hundred and fifty guineas for one), but the rioters were, with few exceptions, not our fellow-students at all, but a mob of University students who had been summoned together by a missive circulated in the University class-rooms. The real truth was that the riot was deliberately got up simply and solely in the hope of frightening certain friendly infirmary managers from admitting us to their wards, and perhaps also of frightening us by showers of foul words and of street mud from pursuing our studies any further. Fortunately, the chivalrous device was not permanently successful in either direction.
I pass on, however, to notice the statements made respecting the recent lawsuit and the events immediately preceding it. Sir Alexander says that when the University “for the first time sought legal advice” the authorities obtained an opinion adverse to the ladies’ claims from the Solicitor-General. As that opinion has never been published, there is no opportunity for its discussion; but Sir Alexander appears entirely to forget the fact that an opinion to the exactly contrary effect was delivered by the Lord Advocate of Scotland, who takes official precedence of the Solicitor-General, and that that opinion was not only submitted to the University Court, but published more than once in the newspapers and elsewhere. In that opinion the Lord Advocate stated distinctly that he believed the University to be not only able, but distinctly bound, to complete the education of those ladies whom it had invited to matriculate, and that all necessary arrangements for that purpose could legally be made. It will thus be seen that the above opinions at any rate neutralized each other, and that, had the University willed it otherwise, it certainly need not have been “paralyzed” by one of them.
It is further stated that the University Court informed the ladies that, by the opinion above referred to, “it was debarred from promoting their graduation until the legality of such graduation could be established, but it offered to make, in the meantime, arrangements for their full medical instruction”; and, further, that such offer was rejected by the ladies. Both these statements, Sir, I distinctly deny. I have at this moment the whole correspondence before me, and I fail utterly to find in it any such offer as that alleged. The only thing that in any degree gives colour to Sir Alexander’s assertion is a passage occurring in a Minute of the University Court of January 8, 1872, which is as follows:
“The Court are of opinion that the question under reference has been complicated by the introduction of the subject of graduation, which is not essential to the completion of a medical or other education.... If the applicants in the present case would be content to seek the examination of women by the University for certificates of proficiency in medicine, instead of University degrees, the Court believe that arrangements for accomplishing this object would fall within the scope of the powers given to them by section 12 of the Universities (Scotland) Act. The Court would be willing to consider any such arrangements which might be submitted to them.”
On receiving a copy of this Minute I pointed out that certificates of proficiency, not being recognized by the Medical Act of 1858, would be quite useless to us; but added that, “As the main difficulty before your honourable Court seems to be that regarding graduation, with which we are not immediately concerned at this moment, we are quite willing to rest our claims to ultimate graduation on the facts as they stand up to the present date, and in case your honourable Court will now make arrangements whereby we can continue our education, we will undertake not to draw any arguments in favour of our right to graduation from such future arrangements, so that they may at least be made without prejudice to the present legal position of the University.”
In answer to this letter I was informed that “If the names of extra- academical teachers of the required medical subjects be submitted by yourself or by the Senatus, the Court will be prepared to consider the respective fitness of the persons so named to be authorized to hold medical classes for women who have in this or former sessions been matriculated students of the University, and also the conditions and regulations under which such classes should be held.”
I, of course, replied that we would willingly prepare and submit such a list (though your readers will notice that this simply amounted to all the arrangements being thrown upon us students, and not in any degree made by the Court), but requested first to be assured that, “though you at present give us no pledge respecting our ultimate graduation, it is your intention to consider the proposed extra-mural courses as ‘qualifying’ for graduation, if it is subsequently determined that the University has the power of granting degrees to women.” In reply I was informed that the Court would do nothing of the kind; that we might, if we pleased, take all the trouble and expense of finding teachers, and might “submit” their names to the Court, but that in no case would the Court take any measures for making their teaching of any practical use to us from a University point of view. Your readers will therefore judge of what value was the boon that we are alleged to have rejected—I had almost said the trap that we were fortunate enough to have escaped!
I am sorry to have paused so long over this point, but the assertion of your correspondent was so amazing that it seemed essential that the real facts should be laid before the public. I should be only too glad if your space would allow you to publish the whole correspondence, of which I forward a copy for your own perusal. Should any of your readers desire, however, to ascertain more of the facts, they will find the correspondence fully given in the notes to a little book called _Medical Women_, published last year by Oliphant & Co., of Edinburgh, to which also I may refer for a detailed account of the whole struggle of the first three years at Edinburgh.
I notice that Sir Alexander Grant thinks it well to omit the fact that, when we were at last driven to assert our rights in a court of law (and I may remark that no proposal for an “amicable suit” was ever made to me or to any of my fellow-students by the University authorities, and therefore none was ever “rejected” by us), an unhesitating decision in our favour was given by the Lord Ordinary, before whom the case was tried, his Lordship also finding the Senatus liable for three-fourths of our expenses. The University refused, however, to accept this verdict, and appealed the case to the Inner House, where they at length succeeded in obtaining a judgment in their favour from a bare majority of the Lords of Session, the whole costs being in this case thrown upon us. Perhaps you will kindly allow me, however, to quote the following passage from the judgment of the Lord Justice Clerk, who adhered to the decision of the Lord Ordinary, and who had himself been Rector of the University when we were admitted as students.[167] ... I may mention that an abstract of the whole recent lawsuit has been published as a sixpenny pamphlet, and may be obtained from Mr. Elliott, 67 Princes Street, Edinburgh.
Apologizing for so large a trespass on your space,
I remain, yours obediently, SOPHIA JEX-BLAKE.
Footnote 167:
The passage has already been quoted, pp. 396-7.
APPENDIX G PERMANENT MEMORIALS OF SOPHIA JEX-BLAKE
In St. Giles’ Cathedral, Edinburgh,—a brass tablet placed by the Very Rev. T. W. Jex-Blake:
“Sacred to the Memory of Sophia Jex-Blake, M.D., by whose energy, courage, self-sacrifice and perseverance the Science of Medicine and the Art of Healing were opened to Women in Scotland.”
In the Edinburgh Hospital for Women and Children, placed by the Committee and friends,—a medallion of cast bronze mounted on a slab of verde-antique marble: on the medallion, surrounded by a wreath of laurel, the family crest and motto:
Bene praeparatum pectus.
And below this the inscription:
“In affectionate remembrance of Sophia Jex-Blake, Founder of this Hospital, to whose large courage, insight and constancy the admission of Women to the Profession of Medicine in this Country is mainly due.”
On the family monument at Ovingdean, near Brighton:
SOPHIA LOUISA, YOUNGEST CHILD OF THOMAS JEX-BLAKE, AND MARIA EMILY, HIS WIFE. DOCTOR OF MEDICINE, FOUNDER IN 1874 OF THE LONDON SCHOOL OF MEDICINE FOR WOMEN, AND IN 1888 OF A SIMILAR SCHOOL IN EDINBURGH, WHERE SHE ALSO FOUNDED A HOSPITAL FOR WOMEN AND CHILDREN IN 1886.
“Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.”
In Rotherfield Churchyard, where her body was laid,—a grey granite cross, bearing the words:
SOPHIA JEX-BLAKE, M.D. BORN 21ST JANUARY, 1840. DIED 7TH JANUARY 1912.
“Then are they glad because they are at rest, and so He bringeth them unto the haven where they would be.”
INDEX
Aberdare, Lord, 404, 427, 433, 443 (footnote), 466, 507.
Aberdeen University, 226, 413.
Act, Russell Gurney Enabling. _See_ Table of Contents.
Action of Declarator, Part II. Chap. XIII.
_Advocate_, The Boston, 191.
_Aids to Faith_, 108, 109.
Aitken, Dr., 500.
“A. K. H. B.” _See_ Rev. A. K. H. Boyd.
“Alice,” 88, 105, 106, 107, 168, 185, 204, 205, 207, 230, 258, 421, 461.
Allman, Professor, 257, 258, 276, 337.
Amberley, Viscountess, 279.
America, Life in. _See_ Table of Contents.
Anderson, M.D., Mrs. Garrett (Miss Elizabeth Garrett), 117, 118, 119, 120, 155, 187, 200, 205, 232, 233, 279, 362, 364, 368, 369, 400, 401, 420, 423, 424, 425, 426, 433, 441, 444 (letter from), 447, 449, 466, 467, 473 (letter from), 524.
Anderson, Miss Mary D. _See_ Mrs. Marshall, M.D.
Andrews, Miss Amelia, 56, 57.
Anstie, Dr. F. E., 402, 421, 425, 427; letters from: 374, 419, 420.
Anthony, Miss, 477.
Anstruther, Sir Robert, 360, 403. Lady, 360.
Atlantic House, 193, 194.
Antioch (at Yellow Springs in Ohio), 168.
Apothecaries’ Hall of Ireland, 395. Society of London, 395.
Ardmillan, Lord, 392.
Arthur of Barshaw, Mrs., 514.
_Athenaeum_, The, 188.
Atkins, Dr. Louisa, 431, 439, 447.
Ayrton, M.D., Mrs. Chaplin, 263, 289, 336, 341, 377.
_A Visit to some American Schools and Colleges_, Part I. Chap. XIII., 188, 228, 479.
B., Miss, 12, 17, 18, 20, 21, 24, 36.
Bain, Miss Isabel (Mrs. James Brander), 159, 160, 172, 478, 506.
Balfour, Dr. G. W., 289, 349, 425, 427, 459, 498, 504, 508, 525. Professor J. H., 118, 228-9, 235, 237, 240, 241, 248, 258, 272, 276, 333, 334, 336, 337, 358.
Ballantyne, Mrs. _See_ Lady Jenkinson. Miss K., 480.
Barker, Dr. Annie, 279.
Barlow, Sir Thomas, 460, 483.
Baynes, Professor, 394.
Beaconsfield, Lord. _See_ Disraeli.
Beattie, Mrs., 516.
Bedford College, 107.
Begbie, James, 107, 117, 118, 229, 233, 239, 240.
Beilby, Lady, 525. Miss Winifred (Mrs. Frederick Soddy), 525.
Bell, Dr., 311.
Bellevue Hospital, 199.
Bennet, Dr. Henry, 280-1 (letter from).
Bennett, Professor Hughes, 236, 237, 241, 258, 273, 279, 289, 361, 425.
Benson, Miss Ada, 62, 63, 84, 362. Henry, 62.
Bernerhof, 436.
Berne University, 436.
Bettws-y-Coed, 45, 60, 86-7, 120, 127, 198, 485.
Biblical Criticism, S. J.-B.’s views on, 142-4.
Billing, Dr. A. (father of the profession), 444, 445.
Birmingham University, 392.
Birrell, Professor, 394.
Black, Miss Janet, 498.
Blackie, Professor J. S., 239, 241, 301, 302, 303. Mrs., 239, 510; letters from: 302-3, 346.
Blackwell, Dr. Elizabeth, 199, 200, 204, 205, 207, 264 (letter from), 267, 356-7 (letter from S. J.-B.), 362, 364, 367, 368, 369, 425, 493. Dr. Emily, 199, 204, 205, 206, 233.
_Blackwood’s Magazine_, 435.
Blake-Humfrey, family, 59, 60. Mr. Robert, 59.
Blyth, Miss Phoebe, 107, 239, 390, 510.
Bologna University, 221, 239, 240, 241, 358, 370.
Bonney, Dr., 220, 221.
Bordighera, 521-3.
Bosnia, Miss Irby’s work in, 402.
Boston _Daily Advertiser_, 190.
Boucherett, Miss, 91.
Bovell, Dr. Emily (Mrs. Sturge), 279, 377.
Boyd, Rev. A. K. H., 374.
Brander, Mrs., 479. Mrs. James. _See_ Miss Isabel Bain.
British Medical Association, 524, 528.
_British Medical Journal_, 233, 259, 270, 271.
British Museum, 239, 240, 358.
Brompton Hospital, 438, 439, 456.
Brontë, Charlotte, 133, 139, 237.
Brown, Professor Crum, 268, 269, 270, 273, 335, 382, 418. Mrs. Helen, 510. Rev. Olympia, 178.
Brown-Séquard, Professor, 191.
Buchan, Dowager Countess of, 335, 362.
Burke and Hare, 497.
Burn Murdoch, Mr. John, 118, 229.
Burn Murdoch, Mrs., 106, 110, 112, 118-9, 133, 151, 229, 240, 262.
Burton, Miss Mary, 510.
Buss, Miss, 480.
Bussaco, The Sacred Forest of, 531.
Bute, The Marquis of, 500. Marchioness of, 524.
Butler, Rev. Canon, 364, 365. Mrs. Josephine, 218, 219, 221, 223, 256, 266; letters from: 226, 253-4, 364-5.
Cabot, Dr., 224, 247.
Caird, Professor Edward, 413. Rev. John, Principal, 413.
Calderwood, Rev. Professor, 239, 273, 302, 310, 320, 346, 361, 509. Mrs., 510.
Call, Dr. Emma, 199, 379.
Cambridge University, 219, 220, 221, 224-5, 226, 342-3.
Cameron, M.P., Dr., 410, 411, 412-3 (letter from), 467.
Campbell, Professor Lewis, 354, 355, 362, 394, 427. Mrs., 354, 355. Lady Victoria, 524.
Cancer Hospital, The, 456.
Candlish, Rev. Dr., 109.
Cardwell, Lord, 445.
_Care of Infants, The_, 491.
Carlingford, Lord, 492.
Carlyle, Thomas, 161.
Cathcart, F.R.C.S., Mr. C. W., 460 (footnote), 536.
Chambers, Dr. King, 255, 256 (letter from), 395, 421, 430, 431, 442, 460, 464, 472, 493. William, Lord Provost of Edinburgh, 244.
Chaplain, S. J.-B. as, 173, 174, 175, 176-7.
Chaplin, Miss. _See_ Mrs. Chaplin Ayrton, M.D.
Charteris, Rev. Professor, 273, 300, 321, 361, 493.
Children’s Hospital, 456.
_Christian World_, The, 363.
Christison, Professor, Sir Robert, 229, 235, 236, 237, 240, 241, 242, 245, 249, 258, 273, 286, 299, 311, 315, 318, 331, 335, 337, 345, 418, 449, 508.
——’s Assistant, 299, 306, 307, 308, 310, 311, 312, 313, 314, 315.
_Church Review_, The, 298 (and footnote).
_Cives Academiae Edinensis_, 264.
Clark, Dr. Ann, 436, 437, 438, 536 (footnote).
Clouston, Dr. (Sir Thomas), 460, 486, 526.
Cobbe, Miss Frances Power, 152 (letter from), 158, 171, 178, 243, 266, 320.
Colenso, Bishop, 141, 142, 145, 146.
Colston, Treasurer, 320.
Commune, The, 326.
_Contemporary Review_, The, 442.
Cordery, Miss Bertha. _See_ Mrs. S. R. Gardiner. Miss Emma, 66, 153, 155, 528. Miss Henrietta. _See_ Mrs. T. W. Jex-Blake. James, 66, 473, 528. Family, 66, 83, 252, 389, 421.
_Courant_, The Edinburgh, 291. Evening, 312, 315.
Cowan, Lord Provost of Edinburgh, 389.
Cowell, Dr., 419.
Cowper Temple, M.P., W. (Lord Mount Temple), 409 (letter and telegram from), 410-411 (letter from), 412, 414, 429, 430, 433, 434, 467.
Coxe, M.D., Sir James, 300.
Craig, Miss Agnes, 510.
Craik, Mrs., 55.
Craufurd, Professor, 241, 258, 273, 360.
Critchett, F.R.C.S., George, 431, 432.
Crocker, Miss, 163.
Cropper, James, 504.
Crudelius, Mrs., 106.
Cubitt, Miss Henrietta (Mrs. Orr), 106. Miss Jane, 37, 38, 366. Maria Emily. _See_ Mrs. Jex-Blake. Mrs. P., 151. Thomas of Honing Hall, 2. family, 59.
Dahms, Dr. Anna, 335, 377.
_Daily News_, The, 421-2, 443.
_Daily Review_, The Edinburgh, 119, 236, 263, 293, 294.
Davies, Miss Emily, 118, 219.
Deas, Lord, 392.
De Dreux, Miss, 107, 108, 124.
Degrees, American, 189, 190, 322.
Derby, Hasket, 192.
Dimock, Dr. Susan, 190 (and footnote), 191.
Disraeli, Benjamin, 407, 408, 409, 412.
Dispenser, S. J.-B. as, 173.
Dispensary, S. J.-B.’s, 459, 460, 461, 462, 468, 486, 487, 495, 494.
Driving Tours, Part III. Chap. VI.
Dublin University, 226.
Duggan, Rev. Father, 529-30.
Dunham, Great, 59, 63.
Du Pre, Miss Ursula, 221-3, 229, 230 (and footnote), 242, 247, 252, 262, 279, 287, 295 (letter), 328, 329, 351, 362, 386-7 (letter), 433, 437, 463, 464, 467, 468, 471, 472, 476-8 (letters to), 481, 482, 486, 489, 490, 495, 497, 507, 509 (letter to), 516, 528.
Durham University, 392-4.
Edinburgh Extra-Mural School, 276-9, 285, 286, 330, 331, 491, 492, 496. Appendix D.
Edinburgh, First visit to, Part I. Chap. IX.
Edinburgh Hospital for Women and Children, 476 (footnote), 487.
Edinburgh Royal Colleges of Physicians and Surgeons, 309, 330, 395, 491, 492.
Edinburgh Royal Infirmary. _See_ Table of Contents.
Edinburgh School of Medicine for Women, 496-502, 504, 507, 508.
Edinburgh University. _See_ Table of Contents.
Edington, Mrs., 510. Miss, 510.
Eggishorn, The, 375.
Ellaby, Dr. Charlotte, 474.
Eliott-Lockhart, Miss C. H., 508, 528.
Emerson, Edith, 166. Edward, 166. Ellen, 166. R. W., 161, 161-2 (letter from), 166-7. Mrs., 166-7.
Employment of Women, Society for the, 81.
Enabling Bill (Cowper Temple, _i.e._ Bill “to remove doubts”), 403, 404, 410; (Russell Gurney), 434.
_Englishwoman’s Year Book_, 494.
“Englishwomen’s Educational Union,” 125, 127.
_Essays and Reviews_, 109.
Evans, Mrs. De Lacy. _See_ Mrs. Russel. Miss M. J. (Mrs. Heath), 60, 70, 73, 82, 151. family, 59, 61.
Fawcett, Rt. Hon. Henry, 479.
Findlay, J. R., 233, 262, 320.
Fitch, J., 464.
Foreign Degrees Bill, 429, 433.
Forsyth, —, Q.C., M.P., 433.
Forster, Rt. Hon. W. E., 404.
Fortingal, 516.
Foster, Mrs. A. B., 510.
_Fortnightly Review_, The, 293, 429.
Fraser, Professor Alexander, 234, 240.
Fraser, Sherriff Patrick, 33, 332, 334, 335, 358.
Galloway, LL.D., Miss Janet, 501.
Gamgee, Dr. Arthur, 278.
Gardiner, Professor S. R., 531. Mrs., 66, 431, 490, 503, 528, 531.
Garrett, Miss Elizabeth. _See_ Mrs. Garrett Anderson.
Gaskell, Mrs., 154.
Geddes, Mrs., 510.
George Eliot, 455.
Gifford, Lord Ordinary, Chap. XIV. _passim_, 377, 379, 381, 391, 392, 403.
Gilbert, Thomas, 310, 332, 333.
Gladstone, Rt. Hon. W. E., 405, 409, 465.
_Glasgow Herald_, The, 315.
_Glasgow Mail_, 412.
Glasgow University, 221, 226, 246, 413.
Glencorse, Lord. _See_ Inglis.
Gordon (Lord Advocate), 249, 287, 412.
Goschen, G. J. (First Viscount), 252.
Göttingen, 124-6, 132.
Gover, Mrs., 27.
Grand Ducal Institute, 126-8, Chap. XI. _passim_.
Grant, Sir Alexander, 235, 241, 244, 247, 249, 250, 252, 258, 279, 335, 401, Appendix F. Lady, 235, 236.
Granville, Earl, 444.
Greig, David, 320.
Grévy, President, 325.
Grote, George, 47.
_Guardian_, The, 158, 274.
Gull, Sir William, 444.
Gunton, Rev. Thomas, 323. Mrs., 323, 513.
Gurney, Mr. Russell, 405, 406, 407 (letter from), 409, 410, 411, 429, 434.
Guthrie, Rev. Dr., 109, 344, 346.
Handyside, Dr. P. D., 278, 279, 285, 287-9 (letter from), 291, 292, 298.
Harris, Miss Mary, 90, 101.
Hayden, Dr., 439.
Harvard University, 168, 171, 191, 192, 195, 196, 199, 204, 206, 239.
Heath, Mrs. _See_ Miss M. J. Evans.
Heaton, Miss Martha (Mrs. Hilhouse), 84.
Henderson, Professor, 235, 237.
Heywood, Mr., 444.
Hidber, Professor, 438.
Hill, Miss Miranda, 90, 101, 105, 125, 344, 362. Miss Octavia, 84-94, 96, 98, 99, 101, 108, 110, 112, 116, 125, 133, 181, 199, 238, 258, 266, 468, 538.
Hill, Mrs., 87, 89, 92.
Hill, Mrs. A. R., 510. Dr., President of Harvard, 168, 171, 190-1.
Hill Burton, Mrs., 320.
Hillsdale College, 168, 171.
Hoare, Miss Elizabeth, 161.
Hodgson, Professor William B., 361, 399 (letter from), 400, 401, 402. Mrs., 510.
Hoggan, Dr., 292, 346.
Holmes, Dr. Oliver Wendell, 191.
Honing Hall, 2, 60, 151.
Hope, Dr., 269.
Hope Scholarship, 269, 295, 317, 418.
Hope of Drylaw, Mrs., 320.
Hopgood, James, 442, 443. Mrs., 442.
Houghton, Lord, 402.
Hughes, Miss. _See_ “Alice.”
Hughes, Thomas, 405.
Humphry, M.D., Sir George, 220.
Huxley, T. H., 383, 384, 416, 418.
Hubbard, Miss Louisa, 402, 494.
Hutton, R. H., 444.
Inglis, Chancellor, Lord Glencorse, Lord Justice General of Scotland, 240, 260, 269, 332, 396.
Innes, Professor Cosmo, 239, 240, 361.
Irby, Miss Pauline, 402, 421, 422, 432, 433, 461-2, 465, 495, 498.
“Irish Brigade,” 292, 293, 294.
Irish University, 435.
Irving, Sir Henry, 458.
Jack, Professor, 315.
Jagannadham, Dr. Annie, 504.
James, Professor William, 531.
_Jane Eyre_, 108, 111, 113.
Jenkin, Professor Fleeming, 239, 241, 271 (letter from), 359, 360, 361.
Jenkinson, Lady (Mrs. Ballantyne), 151, 159, 180, 229, 247, 258, 481, 487, 528.
Jenner, Sir William, 445.
Jenny Geddes, 297 (footnote).
Jerviswoode, Lord, 348, 392.
Jessel, Rt. Hon. Sir G., 444.
Jex-Blake, Thomas, 1-17, 20, 21, 28, 29, 30, 37, 41, 45, 48, 50, 52, 59, 63, 66, 67, 74, 88, 91, 108, 122, 140, 146, 148, 150, 158, 159, 160, 177, 194, 202, 203, 205, 207, 208, 213, 283, 389, 464. Letters from: 15, 26, 30, 35-6, 39-41, 67-8, 70-1, 72, 79, 88-9, 112, 185-6, 252-3, 385-6. Letters to: 19, 20, 22-3, 36-7, 68-70, 71-2.
Jex-Blake, Mrs., 1, 2, 3, 9, 11, 13, 14, 16, 17, 19, 21, 28, 29, 31, 32, 37, 39, 42, 50, 51, 52, 54, 56, 58, 59, 65, 66, 70, 74, 81, 82, 85, 88, 91, 93, 96, 108, 110, 111, 113, 120, 124, 135, 137, 139, 140, 147, 148, 158, 168, 180, 182, 185, 187, 201, 208, 213, 214, 217, 219, 224, 226, 237, 238, 239, 255, 265, 267, 279, 306, 310, 323, 365, 366, 389, 391, 407, 421, 423, 439, 445, 456, 470, 471, 472, 473, 474, 475, 518. Letters from: 4-5, 13-4, 15, 16, 25, 30, 35, 41, 43, 44, 45, 73, 89, 111, 112, 113, 121, 134, 137, 138, 139-40, 145-6, 159-60, 185, 279, 309, 310, 342, 363, 375, 384-5, 391, 438, 440, 471. Letters to: 5, 6, 19, 24, 47, 48, 81, 86-7, 97-8, 114-5, 121, 121-4, 129-30, 131, 141-5, 163, 164-6, 172-5, 176-7, 184, 193- 4, 194-5, 197-8, 200-1, 203, 204-7, 365-6, 380, 459-60, 471.
Jex-Blake, Very Rev. T. W., 1, 4, 14, 16, 28, 45, 66, 69, 71, 185, 202, 208, 219, 229, 240, 316, 320, 405, 417, 438, 457, 513. Letters from: 169-70, 266-7, 303-4, 307-8, 353-4, 375, 384. Letters to: 4, 170-1.
Jex-Blake, Mrs. T. W. (Miss H. Cordery), 49, 66, 171, 185, 353, 354, 384, 438.
Jex-Blake family, 171, 185.
Jex-Blake, Miss C. A., 1, 3, 4, 9, 13, 14, 15, 28, 29, 38, 39, 43, 56, 60, 85, 87, 106, 119, 158, 177, 194, 198, 207, 214, 438, 528. Letters from: 43-4. Letters to: 176, 484-5.
Jex-Blake, Elinor (Mrs. Miles), 44, 58, 60, 61, 73, 75, 82-83, 110, 113, 156, 459. Ferrier, 58, 59, 73. Miss Kate (Mrs. Forde), 44. Miss Sarah (Mrs. Brown), 42, 59, 60, 61, 73, 82, 385. William, of Swanton Abbots, 2.
Jowett, Professor Benjamin, 235.
‘Juryman, A,’ 316-7 (letter from).
Keiller, Dr., 279, 330.
Keily, Miss S. E., 523.
Kelland, Professor, 239, 258.
Kimberley, Lord, 444.
King’s and Queen’s College of Physicians, Ireland, 435, 436, 438.
Kingsley, Charles, 63. Henry, 294. Mrs. Henry, 292, 294, 321, 373, 461.
Kinnear, Lord, 508.
Kirkland, Miss E. S., 510.
Knowles, James, 502.
Knox, Dr. Robert, 497.
Kunz, Madame, 510.
_Lancet_, The, 280, 282, 283, 319, 336, 337, 362, 383.
Laurence, Samuel, 76, 187, 205.
Law (Lord Provost of Edinburgh), 296, 299, 304, 305, 322.
“Lawyer, A” (letter from), 317.
Laycock, Professor, 236, 237, 241, 248, 259, 273, 286, 313.
Lectureship on Midwifery (S. J.-B.’s), 504.
Lee, Dr., 460.
Leith Hospital, 479.
Lister, Professor (Lord), 273, 389.
Liston, Professor, 258, 335.
Littlejohn, Dr. (Sir Henry), 286, 296, 336, 337, 362, 383.
Liveing, Professor, 220.
_Liverpool Mercury_, The, 380.
London Hospital, 441.
—— School of Medicine for Women, 421-2, 429, 433, 443, 445, 449, 464, 502.
—— University, The, 117, 219, 441, 444, 445, 448, 456, 479.
Lorimer, Professor, 239, 240, 241, 258, 361. Letters from: 249-50, 331-2.
Lorimer, Mrs., 239, 250, 251, 332.
Loring, —, 195.
Lothian, Marquis of, 507.
Lowe, M.P., Rt. Hon. Robert (Viscount Sherbrooke), 507.
Lubbock, Sir John, 404, 444.
Macadam, Dr. Stevenson, 495.
Macara, Mrs., 516.
Macdonald, Dr. Angus, 459.
McDougall, Dr. Mary, 537.
Macgregor, Dr. Jessie, 525.
Mackenzie, Dr. J., letters from: 321, 373-4.
Maclagan, Professor Sir Douglas, 237.
M‘Laren, Dr. Agnes, 320, 321, 323, 324 (letter from), 325, 341, 362, 375, 385, 386 (letter from), 387, 390, 392, 394, 410, 413, 426, 471, 528. Duncan, M.P., 296, 304, 346, 414, 416. Mrs. Priscilla Bright, 363, 510.
Macmillan and Co., 168, 187, 188, 253, 491.
Macmillan, Mr. Alexander (letter from), 218.
M‘Pherson, Professor, 239, 258.
Mair, Miss S. E. S., 510.
Manchester, Projected Ladies’ College, 152-6, 200.
Mann, Mrs. Horace, 166.
Mannheim, Part I. Chap. XI., 324, 499.
Marshall, M.D., Mrs. Mary, 289, 319, 340, 351.
Martineau, Harriet, 320, 335 (letter from). James, 216, 362.
Massachusetts General Hospital, 191, 192, 196. Eye and Ear Infirmary, 191, 192.
Massingberd Mundy, Miss, 292, 335, 377, 378-9 (letter from).
Masson, Professor David, 106, 221, 226, 228, 231, 234, 239, 241, 243, 245, 250, 258, 264, 270, 272, 273, 274, 305, 309, 345, 346, 360, 361, 363, 388, 407, 411, 425, 428, 437, 449, 499, 524. Letters from: 228-9, 247-9, 273, 408, 409, 411-12.
Masson, Mrs., 263 (letter from), 428.
Masson family, 306.
Matriculation (First) of women in Edinburgh University, 264.
Maurice, Frederick Denison, 63, 66, 70, 110, 203.
_Medical Women_, 223, 224, 265, 380, 402, 421, 479, 491, 492, 493.
Medicine as a career, 182, 183, 184, 187.
Menzies, Mr. and Mrs., 516.
Ministry, thoughts of, 177, 182.
Middlesex Hospital, 456.
Mitchell, Miss Maria, 163.
Millar, Mrs., 510.
Millar, Mrs. Grant, 510. White, 310, 325, 334, 357, 382, 392, 410.
Milne Murray, Dr., 504.
Monck Mason, Miss Dora. _See_ Mrs. Burn Murdoch.
Moore, Dr., 52.
Moorfields Hospital, 456.
Moorhead, Dr. Alice (Mrs. Langwill), 508.
Moncrieff, Lord Advocate (Lord Justice Clerk), 244, 250, 252, 332, 396, 413.
Moray, The Countess of, 524.
Morse, Rev. T. C. D., letter from, 132, 153, 156, 158.
Mount Temple, Lord. _See_ Cowper Temple.
Muirhead, Professor, 239, 240, 241, 248, 338.
Munro Ferguson, Lady Helen, 524.
Mure, Lord, 313, 314, 392, 396.
Music, 138.
Myers, Frederick, 474.
“National Association,” 335, 345, 491, 509.
New England Hospital for Women and Children, 162, 165, 172, 188, 189, 197, 206, 285.
New York Infirmary, 204.
Newman, Professor, 223 (letter from), 223.
Niagara, 167, 168.
Nichol, Mrs., 300, 303 (letter from), 320, 354, 464, 510.
Nicholson, Dr. Alleyne, 276-7 (letter from).
Nicolson, Alexander, 249, 273, 336 (letter from), 357-8.
_Nineteenth Century, The_, 402, 442, 449, 502.
Norton, Arthur, 256, 420, 421, 426, 428, 447, 457.
Oakeley, Professor Sir Herbert, 240.
Oberlin College, 168, 171.
O’Halloran, The, 293, 294.
Ormidale, Lord, 392.
Orr, General (Captain), 106.
Orr, Mrs. (Miss Henrietta Cubitt), 106.
Orr, Miss Margaret, 106, 110, 229, 230.
Orr Ewing, —, M.P., 410, 411.
Osler, Smith, 444, 479-80.
Padua University, 241.
Paget, Sir James, 431, 444.
Palaus, Fräulein von (Baroness), 127, 130, 133, 134, 136, 137, 144, 147, 148.
_Pall Mall, The_, 195, 300.
Palmer, Sir Roundell (Lord Selborne), 241.
Paris University, 228, 229, 235, 239, 279, 353, 354, 377, 400.
Paton, Miss M. G., 510.
Peabody, Miss, 161, 166.
Pechey, Dr. Edith (Mrs. Pechey Phipson), 254, 256, 257, 262, 267, 269, 270, 271, 272, 274, 275, 289, 293, 303, 307, 311, 325, 336, 341, 364, 365, 366, 377, 378, 382, 384, 418, 424, 425, 431, 432, 434, 435, 436, 437, 438, 439, 444, 449, 459, 464, 465, 478, 486, 492, 493, 505, 514, 518, 519, 528. Letters from: 317-9, 359-60, 362, 383.
Pechey, Rev. William, 275, 279, 493.
Peel Ritchie, Dr., 460, 525.
Phin, Rev. Dr., 249, 260.
Phipson, H. M., 505, 528.
Playfair, Professor (Sir Lyon), 237, 240, 241, 250, 251, 411, 412, 413, 414, 416, 428. Letters from: 241-2.
Plumptre, E. H. (Dean of Wells), 63, 64, 69, 113, 150, 152, 155.
Portal, Miss Lucy (letter from), 26-7.
Provosts (Lord) of Edinburgh: Chambers, 244. Law, 296, 299, 304, 305. Cowan, 389.
Professional Examination, 330.
Puerperal Fever, S. J.-B.’s thesis on, 437.
Pulsford, Rev. Dr., 109, 110, 112, 145.
_Punch_, 44, 275, 356, 414, 487.
Putnam-Jacobi, Dr. M., 224, 424.
Quain, Dr., 445.
Queen Margaret College, 501.
Queen Mary, H.M., 487.
Queen Victoria, H.M., 138, 259, 286.
Rainy, Rev. Principal, 109.
Raleigh, Rev. Dr., 160.
Ramsay, Admiral, Sir William, 320.
Raymond, Dr., 166.
Reade, Charles, 291, 435, 498.
Recorder of London. _See_ Gurney, Russell.
Reid, W. L., 336.
Rendel, Lady, 402.
Richmond and Gordon, Duke of, 433.
Richter, Dr. Otto, 376.
Riot at Surgeons’ Hall, Part II. Chap. VIII.
Ripon, Marquis of, 389, 466, 479.
Ristori, 458.
Robson, W., 334, 347.
_Robertson’s Sermons_, 139, 142, 230, 382.
Rogers, Professor, 164, 195. Mrs., 162, 178.
Rose, Mrs. Hugh, 510.
Royal Free Hospital, 442, 444, 456.
Royal Infirmary, 286, 287, 288, 296, 298, 299, 300, 308, 340, Chap. XII. _passim_.
Rukhmabai, Dr., letter from, 493, 504.
Rumbling Bridge Hotel, 516.
Russel, Alexander, 233, 294, 305, 332, 340, 349, 380. Mrs. (Mrs. de Lacy Evans), 236, 243, 263, 289, 292, 307, 332, 340, 341, 349, 492.
Russell, Lord Arthur, 444.
Sackermena, 6-10, 18, 50, 120, 335, 447.
_Sadie’s Poems_, 230, 242, 488.
St. Andrews University, 119, 221, 225, 226, 354, 392, 394, 395, 413, 417, 492, 507, 508, 509.
St. Giles’ Cathedral, 296, 297.
St. Louis College, 168, 171.
St. Mary’s Hospital, 255, 256.
Salamanca University, 241.
Salzmann, Dr., 215, 256, 395.
Sanders, Professor, 273.
Sanderson, Dr., 292, 313.
Sandon, Viscount, 429, 433, 434.
Saville, Dr. Lillie, (letter from) 390, 488, 528.
Scharlieb, Mrs., 478, 524.
Schoolfellow’s criticisms of S. J.-B., 33-4.
School Board (Edinburgh), 389.
Schultz, Fräulein, 437.
_Scotsman_, The, 119, 233, 234, 249, 253, 262, 275, 298, 305, 306, 310, 312, 313, 316, 322, 337, 342, 348, 401, 412, 450, 465.
Scott, Dr. Sam., 148.
Scott Moncrieff, Sir Colin, 500.
Selborne, Lord (Sir Roundell Palmer), 241, 404, 434. Lady, 405.
Serajevo, 432, 435.
Sewall, Dr. Lucy, 161, 162, 163, 165, 172, 173, 174, 176, 177, 181, 182, 183, 187, 193, 197, 198, 201, 202, 205, 206, 215, 229, 230, 237, 238, 302, 327, 328, 329, 377, 378, 379, 448, 459, 462, 468, 476, 506. Letters from: 162, 175, 186, 215, 405. Letters to: 16 (footnote), 199, 213, 214-5, 216, 219, 221, 224, 232-3, 246, 255, 259, 267, 327, 377-8, 379, 464, 487.
Sewall, Hon. Samuel, 162, 177, 205, 259, 506.
_Sewall, The Prophecy of Samuel_ (_1697_), 162, 506-7.
Shaftesbury, Earl of, 363, 427, 434.
Shairp, Professor, 226.
Shandwick Place University Classes for Women, 106.
Sherbrooke, Viscount. _See_ Lowe, Rt. Hon. Robert.
Shewen, Dr. Alfred, 404.
Shove, Dr. Edith, 435, 444, 479.
Sibbald, Dr. (Sir John), 525.
Sidgwick, Professor Henry, 226, 245, 342, 343. Letters from: 219, 221, 245, 225-6.
Simon, J., 389, 429, 430.
Simpson, Sir James, 221, 233 (footnote), 234, 237.
Skelton, Mrs., 510.
Slaves and Slavery, 168, 171, 182 (footnote).
Sleighing, 197.
Smith, Professor Piazzi, 240. Southwood, Dr., 96. Dr. William, 444.
Social Science Congress, 402.
Society of Apothecaries, 232, 255.
Society for Employment of Women, 81.
Soddy, Mrs. Frederick. _See_ Beilby, Miss Winifred.
Somerville, Mr. Robert, 498.
Spence, Professor, 236, 237, 258, 498.
_Spectator_, The, 270, 274, 295, 399, 401, 504.
Stansfeld, Rt. Hon. Sir James, 274, 309, 381, 388, 389, 402, 404, 406, 410, 414, 429, 432, 433, 444, 445, 446, 449, 491, 502. Letters from, 407-8, 409, 441-2, 443, 507.
Stansfeld, Mrs. Caroline, 441.
_Stationer_, The, 188.
Stevenson, Miss Flora, 320, 325. Miss Louisa, 325, 390, 510. R. L., 340 (letter from). Professor, 240, 258.
Stirling Maxwell, Sir William, 360, 411.
Storar, Dr., 445.
Struthers, Dr., 497. Professor, 273.
Stuart, M.P., James, 225, 226, 343. Letter from, 342-3.
Suffrage, Woman, 309, 323, 327, 465, 485.
Syme, Professor, 258, 274, 295, 399, 401, 504.
Symes Thompson, Dr., 438.
Tait, Professor, 239, 240, 241, 258, 270, 273, 279, 335, 360, 416. Letter from, 338-9.
Tait, Lawson, 432.
Taylor, Mrs., 59. Mrs. Peter, 161.
Taylour, Miss, 323.
Teaching, Comparison of English and American, 169, 170.
Teed, Mrs., 13, 17, 18, 35, 46, 48, 53, 55, 69, 71, 133. Miss, 13, 16, 46, 175.
Temple, Miss, 185.
Tennyson, Alfred, 63, 345.
Terry, Miss Ellen, 458.
Thackeray, S. J.-B.’s likeness to, 76.
Thomson, Professor A. J., 500. Walter, 380. Sir Wyville, 416, 418.
Thorne, Mrs. Isabel, 256, 260, 268, 289, 292, 307, 311, 322, 325, 336. 389, 395, 396, 402, 418, 420, 425, 431, 434, 435, 436, 447, 448, 449, 462, 467, 505. Letter from, 253.
Thornton, Mrs., 77.
_Times_, The, 108, 270, 273, 286, 375, 400, 401, 417, 421, 472, 495.
Trayner, Lord, 308, 494, 495. Mrs. (Lady), 494, 495.
Trench, R. C. (Archbishop), 63, 64, 216.
Tulloch, Principal, 119, 355, 413, 427.
Turner, Professor (Sir William), 235, 237, 241, 247, 248, 258, 273, 293, 336, 389.
Tutorship (mathematical), 67-73.
Tweedie, Mrs. Alec., 63 (footnote).
Tyng, Dr., 166.
Tytler, Professor, 239.
Unitarianism, 109, 153, 154, 179, 180 (footnote).
University. _See_ Aberdeen, Bologna, Cambridge, etc.
Universities Commission, 508.
Universities (Scotland) Bill, 507.
Unwin, Miss Hermione, 480-1.
Unwin, Mrs. S. P., 84, 124, 202, 328, 329, 351. Letters to, 100, 130-1, 149-50, 156-8, 167-8, 184. Letters from, 186.
Unwin, S. P., 158, 481. Letter from, 186.
_Villette_, 126 (and footnote).
Waldegrave, Dowager Countess, 373.
Walker, Miss, 279. Miss Lucy. _See_ Mrs. Unwin. Dr. Jane, 524.
Watson, Dr. (Sir Patrick Heron), 278, 284, 286, 340, 349, 425, 459, 466, 467, 472, 493, 509. Letters from, 287-9, 332.
Wedderburn, Sir David, 360, 403, 404, 405, 406, 407.
Welstood, Mrs., 510.
Weisse, Herr Heinrich, 107.
Westminster Hospital, 419.
Wigham, Miss Eliza, 510.
Wilberforce, William, 182.
Williams, Mrs., 63. Mrs. Agnes. _See_ Miss Woodhouse.
Wilson, Professor John, 239, 240, 258, 272, 273, 292, 293, 310, 332-3, 335, 359.
Wilson, Mr. Robert, 292, 293 (and footnote). Letter from, 293-4.
Windydene, 390, Part iii. Chap. vii.
Wolstenholme, Miss. _See_ Mrs. Wolstenholme Elmy.
_Woman Hater, The_, 291, 435, 498.
Women’s Medical College, New York, 204, 206.
Women, Society for Employment of, 81.
_Women’s Work and Women’s Culture_, 221, 223, 224, 243, 253, 266.
Wood, Dr. Alexander, 287, 335, 336, 337.
Woodhouse, Miss Agnes (Mrs. Williams), 64, 65, 70, 74, 78, 83, 107.
_Words for the Way_, 158.
“Working men, A few,” 321.
Wyld, A. G., 510.
Wyld, Mrs. Margaret, 510. Letter from, 308.
Wyld, R. S., 320.
Yarrow, 516.
Young, Lord Advocate, 310, 312, 313, 313, 331, 335, 356, 413.
Zurich University, 190, 235, 239, 278, 279, 353, 354.
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Footnotes
Transcriber’s Note
The author most commonly abbreviates her subject’s name as ‘S. J.-B.’, but frequently neglects to punctuate it consistently. These lapses have been corrected, with no further notice here. Likewise, lapses in punctuation of the Index have been silently rectified.
Other errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and are noted here.
The many nested quotations result in some inconsistencies in punctuation, resulting in missing or seemingly superfluous quotation marks. Corrections were made if the voice or context seems to warrant them, and otherwise are simply noted below. The quoted passages typically begin and end with double quotation marks, but interior paragraphs do not follow the convention of opening each with a quotation.
On p. 255, a misprint seems to have disrupted the word ‘about’ as ‘a bo’. The correction makes sense, but is speculative.
In the Index, in the first column of p. 583, the entry for Mr. Robert Somerville is missing a page reference. The sole reference to Mr. Somerville occurred on p. 498, and that has been added to the text.
The entry for ‘Miss Wolstenholme’ refers the reader to ‘Mrs. Wolstenholme Elmy’; however, the Index contains no such entry. Elizabeth Wolstenholme-Elmy was an English suffragist and writer, who is referred to twice in the text on pp. 284 and 381.
The entry for ‘A Visit to Some American Schools and Colleges’ mistakenly refers the reader to Part I. Chapter XXIII. This has been corrected to Chapter XIII.
The references are to the page and line in the original. Those with three numbers refer to the line within the designated note on that page. A prefix of ‘i’ indicates that this is an index page, and that the second number refers to the column on that page.
21.7 “Now for a word about the ‘bowing,’[”] he says Added.
21.8 [‘/“]It is of _no_ importance in itself, Replaced.
24.26 and may be long i[s/n] showing fruit Replaced.
57.10 ‘Yes, ma’am ma’am[.]’ Added.
58.28 did not much admire me, I guess, that Added. night.[”]
60.17 unless you want to see it.[’] Added.
63.7 ‘Which faith except..., etc.’[”] Added.
63.21 [“]M. brought me an invite Added.
74.32 Feb. 11, 1865![”] Added.
97.21 makest me to dwell in safety.[’]” Added.
101.39 and have felt most solemnly[,/.] Replaced.
107.3 I was so annoyed[./,]—it seemed so silly Replaced.
111.40 May 9th. [“]We do well to struggle Added.
115.3 for which I am looking so earnestly....[’] Removed.
119.20 Yours affectly, S. L. J.-B.[”] Added.
119.32 It’s so weak, it can’t do harm that way.[’] Added.
131.33.2 she writes in her diary[!/:] Replaced.
135.16 and here, perhaps, the answer.[’]” Added.
138.4 the girls’ progress,[”] ought to comfort me Removed. there,
145.33 by the doubt and co[m/n]tempt Replaced.
154.35.6 I keep such company.[’/”] Replaced.
157.18 when I am next in the North.[”] Added.
164.26 we got on grandly....[”] Added.
167.6 all connection of time and place.[”] Added.
167.18 not a bad church, will it be?[”] Added.
167.38 so wonderfully, bewitchingly, grandly _sic_ [beautifully] as this.
174.35 [“]Dec. 15th. I have just begun Added.
180.17 if not of the conquerors.[”] Added.
180.32 Well done America and L. E. S.!—bless her.[”] Added.
181.40 to run close to practical atheism....[”] Added.
191.41 C. E. BROWN-S[E/É]QUARD. Replaced.
192.10 [“]Dr. A. ‘not afraid of responsibility Added.
203.43 with the old Mother.[”] Added.
205.16 Wasn’t I right?...[”] Added.
205.39 you can read and forward respect[t]ively Removed.
234.41 if poss[s]ible before Simpson goes. Removed.
243.15 of what things we have need.’[”] Removed.
246.37 [“]I am so glad that you are prospering so Removed. well
255.25 and told him I was studyi[m/n]g Medicine Replaced.
255.39 spend some money [a bo/about] it Speculation.
256.6 and to University Court July 5th.[”] Added.
257.39 let me not prejudge what is best.[’] Added.
258.17 [“/‘]Unlucky to say so!’ Replaced.
260.30 the resolution of the Un[vei/ive]rsity Court Transposed.
260.32 by the Chancellor on November 12th[,/.] Replaced.
289.35 PA[RT/TR]ICK HERON WATSON. Transposed.
293.20 he’ll be hitting a policeman![’] Added.
321.27 the noble strug[g]le she is making Added.
333.41 thrown back in their profess[s]ional studies Removed.
335.8 time to call a mee[e]ting. Removed.
341.27 your conscience will prevent your Added. sleeping!’[”]
374.25 Thanks for your kind letter[.] Added.
376.9 of your prof[f]ession Removed.
379.19 [“]It is just a year since we parted Added.
383.30 although I [I ]expect he thought Removed.
448.14 [“]So much better than I.” Removed.
449.7 the personal charm, intelligen[e/c]e and Replaced. humour
464.2 [‘/“]Why do you recommend Vermouth?” Replaced.
469.16 to those who suffer _young_[’] Added.
509.29 to admit women forthwith to graduation in Added. medicine[.]
511.29 [“]Dr. —— and Dr. —— [the consultants] have Added. been here
514.6 a removal to larger premises[,/.] Replaced.
546.15 specially to the “people of God[.”/”?] Replaced.
i566.1.51 Brown-S[e/é]quard, Professor, 191. Replaced.
i568.2.28 (Mrs. Hil[l]house) was giving him Removed.