THE INFLUENCE OF WOMEN IN THE PROFESSION OF MEDICINE
In the short time that we meet together to-day I will ask you to let me dwell upon the way in which the most beneficial influence of women in the medical profession may be exercised. I wish also to point out certain dangers, as well as advantages, with which medical study is now surrounded.
The avenues by which all may enter into the profession are now so much more widely thrown open that there is little difficulty in the way of any man or woman who may wish to acquire a legal right to practise medicine. In Paris all the public medical institutions, both college and hospital, are thrown open to students without distinction of sex. Not only as ordinary students, but as internes and externes, sex is no longer regarded there as a barrier to opportunity and position. The democratic principle is everywhere steadily gaining ground, and the individual allowed to try his strength in the great battle of life. Large numbers of women are taking advantage of this wider individual liberty to enter the medical profession. In Great Britain our seventy-three registered lady-doctors are few compared with the 3,000 in the United States, yet the nine students who are now connected with our London school, with, in addition, the Edinburgh classes, the Dublin students, and the latest fact that the Glasgow Medical College has just opened its doors to women, clearly indicate that the movement has taken sturdy root in our country, and when our English work has been carried on for forty years, there is every probability that our British lady-doctors will equal numerically our kinsfolk across the ocean.
I think, therefore, that all will see the importance of considering the future of this growing army of medical women, and I particularly desire that our students of medicine should realize the far-reaching character, the social effects, of this medical career which they are entering on. It is quite certain that the wide adoption of the medical profession by women cannot continue to be an insignificant matter; it must exercise an appreciable effect on future society for good or evil.
If we were children entering upon a course of education, it would be premature to take stock of the results of education, and cast a far-seeing glance into the future.
But it is different with adult women—women of education, somewhat impatient of restraint—entering upon a larger liberty, and legitimately jealous of any interference with that liberty. It is therefore imperative upon us to consider very seriously this matter of self-guidance at the outset of medical education, to take in a large view of future responsibility, and ask ourselves that most important question respecting a medical training: What will be its effect?
The flippant or superficial person may at once reply: Our object is to gain money and pursue a remunerative calling by looking after sick people. Women find so much difficulty in honestly supporting themselves, that it is reason enough that they can in this way do so, and the labourer is worthy of his hire. But I say emphatically that anyone who makes pecuniary gain the chief motive for entering upon a medical career is an unworthy student; he is not fit to become a doctor, and he will be a labourer not worthy of his hire. What should be thought of a statesman who aspired to the direction of national affairs on account of the salary of £10,000? The nobleness of motive must enlarge with the nobleness of occupation, or the unworthy occupier sinks to a degradation measured by the height to which his career should have raised him.
Now, there is no career nobler than that of the physician. The progress and welfare of society is more intimately bound up with the prevailing tone and influence of the medical profession than with the status of any other class of men. This exceptional influence is not only due to the great importance of dealing with the issues of life and death in health and disease, but it is still more owing to the fact that the body and the mind are so inseparably blended in the human constitution, that we cannot deal with one portion of this compound nature without in more or less degree affecting the other. Our ministrations to body and soul cannot be separated by a sharply-defined line. The arbitrary distinction between the physician of the body and the physician of the soul—doctor and priest—tends to disappear as science advances. Every branch of medicine involves moral considerations, both as regards the practitioner and the patient. Even the amputation of a limb, the care of a case of fever, the birth of a child, all contain a moral element which is evident to the clear understanding, and which cannot be neglected without injury to the doctor, to the individual, and to society. But probably it will be generally agreed that the hope of gaining money must not be the primary motive for choosing a medical career; but that interest in the line of study and kind of life, with a perception of the wide and beneficent influence which it can exert, should form the determining motive for becoming a physician.
If, then, we recognise that, although just reward for honest labour is fair, we must not enter upon medicine as a trade for getting money, but from a higher motive, this motive, as it influences conduct, becomes on that account a moral motive or an ideal which should guide our future practical life as physicians. Now, this ideal necessitates a distinct conception of what is right or wrong for us, in medicine, both as human beings and as women. Simply sensuous life, without an ideal or without higher principles of action than the limited needs of every day, tends to degrade the individual and all who surround him.
What we need is a clear idea of what is really right or wrong, with the reasons on which the judgment is based, instead of a confused notion or a vague and ever-shifting standard.