Lord Buckmaster, its sponsor, declaring: "The true sphere of a woman's work ought to be measured by the world's need for her services and by her capacity to perform that work."
And the world's need presses steadily, inexorably day by day. France had called 1500 men lawyers to the colours when the War Office sent a brief notice to the bar association of Paris: "On account of the absence of so many men at the front," read the summons, "women lawyers are wanted in the Ministry of War." Women have been in the legal profession in France since 1900. There are 52 women lawyers in Paris. But their practice has been limited largely to women clients. Madame Miropolsky has made a reputation as a divorce lawyer. Madame Maria Verone is the prominent barrister of the Children's Court. A year ago I heard Avocat Suzanne Grinberg plead a case before a tribunal which up to 1914 had never listened to a woman's voice.
As she stood there in the ancient Palais de Justice of Paris, her small, well formed head wound round with its black braid, her red lips framing with easy facility the learned legal phrases, her expressive hands accentuating her points with eager gesture, her woman's figure in the flowing legal robe of black serge with the white muslin cravat, was outlined against a thousand years of history. Eight soldiers with bayonets stood on guard at the rear of the room. The court whom she addressed was seven judges of military rank in splendid military uniform. And
