Dr. Inglis as a
chief--but it was grudgingly done. In the end it was all for the best.
If she had been the kind of person who took trouble to rouse an easy
personal enthusiasm, the whole thing would have fallen to pieces at the
first stress of work; on the other hand, if she had never inspired more
than respect, she would never have won the quality of service she
succeeded in winning. The really mean-spirited were loyal just so long
as she was present because she daunted them, and Dr. Inglis's
disapproval was most certainly a thing to be avoided. But the great
majority, whatever their personal views, were quickly ready to recognize
her authority as springing from no hasty impulse, but from a finely
consistent discipline of thought.

"We were really lucky in having the retreat at the beginning of the
work. It helped the Unit to realize how complete was the radical
confidence they felt in her. I think her extraordinary love of justice
was next impressed upon them. It took the sting out of every personal
grievance, and was so almost passionately sincere it hardly seemed to
matter if the verdict went against you. Her selflessness was an example,
and often enough a reproach, to every one of us, and to go to her in any
personal difficulty was such a revelation of sympathy and understanding
as shed a light on those less obvious qualities that really made all she
achieved possible.

"People have often come to me and said casually, 'Oh yes, Dr. Inglis was
a very charming woman, wasn't she?' And I have felt sorely tempted to
say rather snappishly, 'No, she wasn't.' Only they wouldn't have
understood. It is because their 'charming' goes into the same category
as my 'popular.'

"I am afraid you will hardly have anticipated such an outburst; the
difficulty is, indeed, to know where to stop. For what could I not say
of the way her patients adored her--the countless little unerring things
she did and said which just kept us going, when things were unusually
depressing, or the Unit unusually weary and homesick; the really good
moments when one won the generous appreciation that was so well worth
the winning; and last--if I may strike this note--her endless personal
kindness to me."

The following letter to her sister, Mrs. Simson, reveals something of
the lovable personality of Elsie Inglis. The nephew to whom it refers
was wounded in the eye at the battle of Gaza, and died a fortnight
before she did.