Shortly after my return I was attacked by illness, which proved so serious in its effects that in 1873 the Burwood Place establishment was broken up, and my plan of life necessarily changed. During the next three years I vainly endeavoured to resume my London work, but was frequently obliged to seek health in change of residence and foreign travel. This travel included a memorable winter in Rome, which need not be further referred to, although the approach to the Eternal City—when, across the Campagna, the dome of St. Peter’s was first visible—was a thrilling personal joy, never to be forgotten. But my purely personal experiences will not be dwelt on.
When the London School of Medicine for Women was established I hastened my return, and accepted the Chair of Gynæcology in the college.
In my lodgings in Dorset Square I again suffered from atrocious biliary colic, which the able physicians whom I consulted were unable to relieve, finished my course of lectures with extreme difficulty, and came to the conclusion, with bitter disappointment, that any future residence in London under my circumstances must be given up.
The winters of 1876-78 were spent chiefly at Bordighera and in Nice. An episode there is worth recording.
My enlarging experience in various countries in respect to the relations between men and women—the customs, the diseases, the social disaster springing from errors as to human physiology and neglect in education with regard to the most important functions—showed me the imperative work which devolved upon the physician in this matter. I realised that the mind cannot be separated from the body in any profound view of the scope of medical responsibility. Under the olive trees of Bordighera, and sitting by its lovely blue sea, I meditated on the duty of the physician, and finally wrote the small work, ‘Counsel to Parents on the Moral Education of their Children.’
So little at that time was the importance of sexual education understood, and the necessity of its consideration accepted, that when I read my manuscript to a warm and enlightened English friend staying at Mentone, she assured me that if I published that manuscript my ‘name would be a forbidden word in England.’
I sent the manuscript, however, to about twelve of the leading London publishers, who all declined the publication. I therefore printed a small edition myself, which a bookseller consented to keep on sale. A copy of this little book fell under the notice of Miss Ellice Hopkins, who, considering that it would be useful in the special work in which she was engaged, induced Mr. Hudson, the then acting member of the firm of Hatchard & Co., to reconsider the matter and publish the book for her use. The arrangement was made and the book printed; but soon after I received a letter saying that though the firm had never yet broken faith with an author, yet they feared they must do so now; for the senior member of the firm, Bishop Hatchard’s widow, had seen the proof of the book, thrown it into the fire, and desired that its publication should be stopped!
Finally, a little consultation of elderly clergymen was called to consider the subject, and it was at last resolved that if the name of the work could be changed, and the distinct announcement made in the title that it was a medical as well as a moral work, the publication might be continued. Of course the change was made, and ‘Counsel to Parents’ became ‘The Moral Education of the Young, considered under Medical and Social Aspects.’
I mention this curious experience as an encouragement to those who are engaged in all branches of moral work. Public sentiment has advanced since 1876. Looking now at the very reticent way in which the subject is treated in this little book, it is difficult to believe that such an episode could have occurred.
It has become clear to me that our medical profession has not yet fully realised the special and weighty responsibility which rests upon it to watch over the cradle of the race; to see that human beings are well born, well nourished, and well educated. The onward impulse to this great work would seem to be especially incumbent upon women physicians, who for the first time are beginning to realise the all-important character of parentage in its influence upon the adult as well as on the child—i.e. on the race.