CHAPTER III
SUCCESS?

Meanwhile Miss Elizabeth Garrett was providing in her own career the very example that was needed to clinch the argument. After much arduous work and lavish expenditure of money on special classes, she had obtained the “L.S.A.,” a licence to practise from the Society of Apothecaries,[[49]] and good use she had made of the platform thus gained. Henceforth no one could deny that an Englishwoman had the physique and the wit to study, “qualify,” and practise Medicine,—yes, even to get her full share of patients. It was scarcely to be expected that Miss Garrett would rest content without a University degree, but she considered that the time was not ripe for the agitation of the question in England, and she had little sympathy with S. J.-B.’s efforts in Edinburgh. None the less her successful career was a more valuable argument than her support would have been,—even if, at the moment, she had not been too fully occupied elsewhere to enter into the question at all.

On March 21st, S. J.-B. wrote to Dr. Sewall:

“I have two nice little bits of news about Miss Garrett. One is that the Princess Louise went to see her, and, after enquiring about the medical prospects of women, expressed strong hopes of their complete success. This is really worth a great deal, and I hope you will have too much sense to sneer at it.

Secondly, I see in the British Medical Journal (which I shall try to send you) a notice that Miss Garrett had ‘by special order of the minister’ been admitted to the first examination for M.D. [in Paris] and had passed it in the presence of a crowded audience with very great éclat. That woman certainly has great power of study and work, hasn’t she?

By the bye, you would have been interested at the scene in which I noticed this paragraph. I was sitting yesterday morning at Sir James Simpson’s breakfast table, between him and his wife, and he passed the paper to me....

He was, of course, quite favourable to my application, and I am to breakfast with him again tomorrow and hear what he will do about it.[[50]] He is going off to Rome for a trip this week, but I am very anxious that he should vote in my favour first. He is so unreliable that I do not know how to make sure of his doing it though,—very likely he’ll be at the other end of Edinburgh when the meeting is held. I told him that you remembered him and always spoke of his kindness to you. I am not quite sure whether he recalled it. He spoke highly of Dr. Emily Blackwell.”

A few days previous to this an unobtrusive little note of no small import appears in the diary:

“8.30 p.m. at Begbie’s met Campbell Smith, who walked home with me. Older and more quiet than I had expected. Kindly.”

The favourable impression was mutual, if one may judge from the letter that follows: