"In a recent number of the _North British Review_ appeared an excellent article on 'The Employment of Women;' under the head of women doctors, the writer says: 'But the something practical--where is it?' We believe that a great deal, which is very practical, is scattered over this article. But we have still some further suggestions to offer. Not very long ago, a statement 'went the round of the papers,' to the effect that there were already eight diplomatized female physicians practising in Boston (U. S.), and that there were thirty-eight students in the Female Medical College. 'Whenever,' says an American writer, 'there are sufficient data to establish the truth (now little if at all disputed in America), that child-birth is freed from its worst difficulties and dangers when the unnatural presence of men is dispensed with, the medical and surgical care of women and children will pass into the hands for which nature designed it.' There would appear to be nothing very unreasonable in this, but, on the contrary, something extremely rational and hopeful. But see how the facts stated above are received by the faculty in England. The leading medical journal of this country thus comments upon them:-- "'Female physic thrives apace in America. At Boston, where Columbia gave birth to the young Constitution, which is now sowing its wild oats broadcast, there is a female medical college, numbering thirty-eight students. A grant of government money has also been voted towards establishing a similar institution at New York. This is to be under the immediate superintendence of Elizabeth Blackwell, M.D., late of St. Bartholomew's, with a bevy of those spinsters mentioned by Shakespeare as free "maids who weave their threads with bones" for anatomical demonstrators. "'At Boston, moreover, there are eight doctoresses with diplomas in full practice. We suppose some of these female physicians are married, and this involves a great social mystery of which we have as yet received no account. When the Mrs. M.D.'s are attending to patients in their boudoirs of consultation, or pointing out pathological nicknacks in their anatomical drawing-rooms, or going their rounds with stethoscopes in their bonnets, what are their husbands doing? Do they superintend the perambulators, or are these hitched on to the professional broughams of their mammas? Is it a part of the husband's marital duty to manage the nursery--in short, to attend to the domestic affairs generally? Perhaps matrimony is ignored altogether. Indeed, we do not well see how a conscientious doctoress could promise to love, honour, and obey a husband who might order her to give her patients a dose of strychnia all round.'