CHAPTER XVII.
FEMALE PHYSICIANS.
Within a few years past, schemes have been devised for introducing females into the general practice of medicine. The plan originated in our own country, and it is supposed to be the first time in the history of the world that such an enterprise has been undertaken; and from present appearances, the plan is not likely to be followed anywhere else. To the credit of that sex be it said, the scheme did not originate with them, but was contrived and set on foot by men. There are always misanthropic individuals who are constantly at war with the established institutions of society, who would, if they could, reverse the order of nature. It is from that class of unstable, fickle-minded men, whose ambition far exceeds their merits, that this movement emanated; and when the honest men whose aid has been fraudulently obtained shall discover their mistake, the whole scheme must be abandoned for want of support. That females may, under certain circumstances and to a certain extent; render medical services to the sick, and especially those of their own sex, is not denied; but the idea of their engaging in the general practice of medicine and surgery, is preposterous.
Nature has evidently designed each of the sexes for some common and some special duties. Besides those offices which may be performed with equal propriety by either sex, there are others which clearly belong to one or the other exclusively, and which can never become the common province of both. This separation of duties and offices is a plain dictate of common sense, and has obtained in all ages and in every, condition of society. Among the rudest nations, the business of war and the chase, and all the more athletic offices, have always been assumed exclusively by the male sex. As men became more enlightened and society more refined, a nicer and more complete separation of offices and employments became established. The sterner, more arduous and more hazardous were by common consent assigned to man; while to woman was given the lighter, more quiet and more delicate offices. Her vocation is not less important or less honorable, but more refined and more domestic. Hers are the softer and gentler duties; in her own province she is an angel—the pride and ornament of the race—the sacred repository of all that is virtuous and lovely. But when she abandons her own proper sphere, and engages in those employments which properly belong to man, she disparages herself and tarnishes the fair escutcheon of her sex. And we are obliged to believe that nothing better than a morbid ambition, or unchastened cupidity, could induce competent individuals of our own sex to become teachers in schools designed to prepare females to practise medicine and surgery. They may teach the principles of medicine correctly, but they are encouraging aspirations that can never be realized, and inducing hopes which must end in disappointment. Their fair listeners are out of their own proper element, have been led astray in mistaken paths, are seeking laurels on forbidden ground, and ostracising themselves from the glory of womanhood.
To a female, a medical degree or a military commission can be nothing more than a graceless memento, and very few respectable females will aspire to such honors. Females have sometimes immolated themselves on the altar of their country, and died for the benefit of mankind; but no such sacrifice is required in the present case—the profession is already amply supplied in all its departments, and its irksome, laborious and responsible duties should not be cast upon the gentler sex. If females do occasionally succeed in the practice of medicine, as one in a thousand may, such are only very rare exceptions to a general rule. Similar exceptions have been witnessed in other vocations. Females in disguise have acted the hero in the army or navy; but every such instance, unless it arose from necessity, deserved censure rather than commendation. And if a female should obtain a lucrative practice and acquire a fortune, even then, her position in society would not be an enviable one. She cannot be respected as a member of a profession to which she aspires to belong. Unbidden and unwelcome she has thrust herself into an association which she cannot honor, and which will not honor her. She has expatriated herself from her own sex, and is looked upon as an erring sister, who has gone astray from the fold of womanhood, seeking fruits in forbidden fields. The endearing ties of sisterhood have been severed, and she has forfeited the gentle courtesies and amenities of the sterner sex. She appears a monster in the garb of a female, a nondescript, a being sui generis.
When a female resolves to become a doctor in medicine, she must also resolve to violate a law of her being, and vow perpetual celibacy. She may shut her eyes and stop her ears to all the pleasures of social intercourse, and look upon mankind and the world with stoical indifference. It cannot be otherwise. The mother cannot leave her nursing infant at the hour of midnight, and launch out amid the howling tempest to attend the sick. She must not expose herself to the thousand hardships and dangers that are incident to a life of medical practice. These are duties which do not belong to her, and should not be expected of her. The female arm was never intended to wield the sledge or swing the scythe, nor her hand to grasp the dissecting knife, the trephine or the gorget. In her own sacred home, amid her domestic duties, or in her own parlor surrounded by groups of friends, or abroad as business or pleasure or inclination may dictate; whenever we behold her in her own province, she shines the ornament and glory of the race. But when she enters the fœtid laboratory of the anatomist, and plunges her hands into the gore of dead men, she loses all her feminine loveliness, and appears like a fallen angel, an object of universal horror and disgust.