An admirable and characteristic letter, this, from Miss Pechey. Was a bracing message of warning and sympathy to a senior and chum ever more tactfully and lightly delivered?
On April 25th, after some days in the country, S. J.-B. went to London and was met by Miss Du Pre and Miss M‘Laren, who “heard and finally polished up the lecture,” which was delivered the following day at St. George’s Hall in the presence of a large and curiously assorted audience. The Earl of Shaftesbury, who occupied the chair, was supported by Professor Lewis Campbell, Rev. Dr. Martineau, Mrs. Garrett Anderson, Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell, the Dowager Countess of Buchan, and other well-known folk, and among the general public were a number of girlhood’s friends, including Miss Ada Benson, Miss Miranda Hill, and many “modern women,”—with a sprinkling of Norfolk cousins. In the course of his
address the Chairman made a shrewd remark, of which time has proved the truth:
“The argument that women were not wanted in the medical profession struck him as very singular. He was old enough to remember when railways and electric telegraphs were not wanted for the simple reason that they were not known. When they became known and tried, we could not do without them, and in all probability it would be the same with reference to ladies in the medical profession.”
In many ways the lecture was a success, and it was largely quoted and referred to in the press; but, for the ordinary hearer, it was overloaded with statistics, and—with a view to that ever-possible action for libel—the lecturer kept herself too well in hand. It is amusing to find The Christian World hinting a regret that she “had not really worked herself up into a passion” in narrating the injustice and vexations to which she had been exposed.
On the other hand, Mrs. Priscilla Bright M‘Laren, an unbiassed expert, expressed the wish that the lecture should be delivered throughout the length and breadth of the land. The publication of a pamphlet, she said, would not have the same effect, because most people never have their sympathies thoroughly roused unless they come face to face with the person who has been persecuted. “If you could be seen and heard” she wrote, “you would produce a wonderful effect in favour of the cause you have at heart.”
S. J.-B. had serious thoughts of carrying out this suggestion, but—in the interests of her own health—one is glad to record that wiser counsels prevailed.
“Thank you very, very much, darling, for your telegram,” writes Mrs. Jex-Blake, the day after the lecture. “I thought if you knew how anxious I had been the last few hours, you would send one, but I did not at all expect it.”
“I have not known where to direct to keep adding my rejoicing at the many accounts of the success of your lecture. Well, I am very very glad for you and with you, and I pray things may somehow take a fresh start. How very nice of some medical students to come and officiate. I wish Professor Masson could have been there.”
“I am very glad to think of you as once more snug at home and I hope with less work in view and some anxieties abated.... I am very glad indeed you have given up going about lecturing.... Tom, too, thinks you very wise to give it up: he was struck with your looking so worn, and very vexed to see you so.”