Unfortunately there remain two or three black sheep--licensing bodies

which simply trade upon their privilege, and sell the cheapest wares

they can for shame's sake supply to the bidder. Another defect in the

existing system, even where the examination has been so greatly

improved as to be good of its kind, is that there are certain licensing

bodies which give a qualification for an acquaintance with either

medicine or surgery alone, and which more or less ignore obstetrics.

This is a revival of the archaic condition of the profession when

surgical operations were mostly left to the barbers and obstetrics to

the mid-wives, and when the physicians thought themselves, and were

considered by the world, the "superior persons" of the profession. I

remember a story was current in my young days of a great court

physician who was travelling with a friend, like himself, bound on a

visit to a country house. The friend fell down in an apoplectic fit,

and the physician refused to bleed him because it was contrary to

professional etiquette for a physician to perform that operation.

Whether the friend died or whether he got better because he was not

bled I do not remember, but the moral of the story is the same. On the

other hand, a famous surgeon was asked whether he meant to bring up his

son to his own calling, "No," he said, "he is such a fool, I mean to

make a physician of him."

Nowadays, it is happily recognised that medicine is one and

indivisible, and that no one can properly practice one branch who is

not familiar with at any rate the principles of all. Thus the two great

things that are wanted now are, in the first place, some means of

enforcing such a degree of uniformity upon all the examining bodies

that none should present a disgracefully low minimum or pass

examination; and the second point is that some body or other shall have

the power of enforcing upon every candidate for the licence to practice

the study of the three branches, what is called the tripartite

qualification. All the members of the late commission were agreed that

these were the main points to be attended to in any proposals for the

further improvement of medical training and qualification.

But such being the ends in view, our notions as to the best way of

attaining them were singularly divergent; so that it came about that

eleven commissioners made seven reports. There was one main majority

report and six minor reports, which differed more or less from it,

chiefly as to the best method of attaining these two objects.

The majority report recommended the adoption of what is known as the

conjoint scheme. According to this plan the power of granting a licence

to practise is to be taken away from all the existing bodies, whether

they have done well or ill, and to be placed in the hands of a body of

delegates (divisional boards), one for each of the three kingdoms. The

licence to practise is to be conferred by passing the delegate

examination. The licensee may afterwards, if he pleases, go before any

of the existing bodies and indulge in the luxury of another examination

and the payment of another fee in order to obtain a title, which does

not legally place him in any better position than that which he would

occupy without it.

Under these circumstances, of course, the only motive for obtaining the

degree of a University or the licence of a medical corporation would be

the prestige of these bodies. Hence the "black sheep" would certainly

be deserted, while those bodies which have acquired a reputation by

doing their duty would suffer less.

But, as the majority report proposes that the existing bodies should be

compensated for any loss they might suffer out of the fees of the

examiners for the State licence, the curious result would be brought

about that the profession of the future would be taxed, for all time,

for the purpose of handing over to wholly irresponsible bodies a sum,

the amount of which would be large for those who had failed in their

duty and small for those who had done it.

The scheme in fact involved a perpetual endowment of the "black

sheep," calculated on the maximum of their ill-gained profits. [1] I

confess that I found myself unable to assent to a plan which, in

addition to the rewarding the evil doers, proposed to take away the

privileges of a number of examining bodies which confessedly were doing

their duty well, for the sake of getting rid of a few who had failed.

It was too much like the Chinaman's device of burning down his house to

obtain a poor dish of roast pig--uncertain whether in the end he might

not find a mere mass of cinders. What we do know is that the great

majority of the existing licensing bodies have marvellously improved in

the course of the last twenty years, and are improving. What we do not

know is that the complicated scheme of the divisional boards will ever

be got to work at all.

My own belief is that every necessary reform may be effected, without

any interference with vested interests, without any unjust interference

with the prestige of institutions which have been, and still are,

extremely valuable, without any question of compensation arising, and

by an extremely simple operation. It is only necessary in fact to add a

couple of clauses to the Medical Act to this effect: (1) That from and

after such a date no person shall be placed upon the Medical Register

unless he possesses the threefold qualification. (2) That from and

after this date no examination shall be accepted as satisfactory

from any licensing body except such as has been carried on in part

by examiners appointed by the licensing body, and in part by

coadjutor-examiners of equal authority appointed by the Medical Council

or other central authority, and acting under their instructions.

In laying down a rule of this kind the State confiscates nothing, and

meddles with nobody, but simply acts within its undoubted right of

laying down the conditions under which it will confer certain

privileges upon medical practitioners. No one can say that the State

has not the right to do this; no one can say that the State interferes

with any private enterprise or corporate interest unjustly, in laying

down its own conditions for its own service. The plan would have the

further advantage that all those corporate bodies which have obtained

(as many of them have) a great and just prestige by the admirable way

in which they have done their work, would reap their just reward in the

thronging of students, thenceforward as formerly, to obtain their

qualifications; while those who have neglected their duties, who have

in some one or two cases, I am sorry to say, absolutely disgraced

themselves, would sink into oblivion, and come to a happy and natural

euthanasia, in which their misdeeds and themselves would be entirely

forgotten.

Two of my colleagues, Professor Turner and Mr. Bryce, M.P., whose

practical familiarity with examinations gave their opinions a high

value, expressed their substantial approval of this scheme, and I am

unable to see the weight of the objections urged against it. It is

urged that the difficulty and expense of adequately inspecting so many

examinations and of guaranteeing their efficiency would be great, and

the difficulty in the way of a fair adjustment of the representation of

existing interests and of the representation of new interests upon the

general Medical Council would be almost insuperable.

The latter objection is unintelligible to me. I am not aware that any

attempt at such adjustment has been fairly discussed, and until that

has been done it may be well not to talk about insuperable

difficulties. As to the notion that there is any difficulty in getting

the coadjutor-examiners, or that the expense will be overwhelming, we

have the experience of Scotland, in which every University does, at the

present time, appoint its coadjutor-examiners, who do their work just

in the way proposed.

Whether in the way I have proposed, or by the Conjoint Scheme, however,

this is perfectly certain: the two things I refer to have to be done:

you must have the threefold qualification; you must have the limitation

of the minimum qualification also; and any scheme for the improvement

of the relations of the State to medicine which does not profess to do

these two things thoroughly and well, has no chance of finality.

But when these reforms are witnessed, when there is a Medical Council

armed with a more real authority than it at present possesses; when a

license to practice cannot be obtained without the threefold

qualification; and when an even minimum of qualification is exacted for

every licence, is there anything else that remains that any one

seriously interested in the welfare of the medical profession, as I may

most conscientiously declare myself to be, would like to see done? I

think there are three things.

In the first place, even now, when a four years' curriculum is

required, the time allotted for medical education is too brief. A young

man of eighteen beginning to study medicine is probably absolutely

ignorant of the existence of such a thing as anatomy, or physiology, or

indeed of any branch of physical science. He comes into an entirely new

world; he addresses himself to a kind of work of which he has not the

smallest experience. Up to that time his work has been with books; he

rushes suddenly into work with things, which is as different from work

with books as anything can well be. I am quite sure that a very

considerable number of young men spend a very large portion of their

first session in simply learning how to learn subjects which are

entirely new to them. And yet recollect that in this period of four

years they have to acquire a knowledge of all the branches of a great

and responsible practical calling of medicine, surgery, obstetrics,

general pathology, medical jurisprudence, and so forth. Anybody who

knows what these things are, and who knows what is the kind of work

which is necessary to give a man the confidence which will enable him

to stand at the bedside and say to the satisfaction of his own

conscience what shall be done, and what shall not be done, must be

aware that if a man has only four years to do all that in he will not

have much time to spare. But that is not all. As I have said, the young

man comes up, probably ignorant of the existence of science; he has

never heard a word of chemistry, he has never heard a word of physics,

he has not the smallest conception of the outlines of biological

science; and all these things have to be learned as well and crammed

into the time which in itself is barely sufficient to acquire a fair

amount of that knowledge which is requisite for the satisfactory

discharge of his professional duties.

Therefore it is quite clear to me that, somehow or other, the

curriculum must be lightened. It is not that any of the subjects which

I have mentioned need not to be studied, and may be eliminated. The

only alternative therefore is to lengthen the time given to study.

Everybody will agree with me that the practical necessities of life in

this country are such that, for the average medical practitioner at any

rate, it is hopeless to think of extending the period of professional

study beyond the age of twenty-two. So that as the period of study

cannot be extended forwards, the only thing to be done is to extend it

backwards.

The question is how this can be done. My own belief is that if the

Medical Council, instead of insisting upon that examination in general

education which I am sorry to say I believe to be entirely futile, were

to insist upon a knowledge of elementary physics, and chemistry, and

biology, they would be taking one of the greatest steps which at

present can be made for the improvement of medical education. And the

improvement would be this. The great majority of the young men who are

going into the profession have practically completed their general

education--or they might very well have done so--by the age of sixteen

or seventeen. If the interval between this age and that at which they

commence their purely medical studies were employed in obtaining a

practical acquaintance with elementary physics, chemistry, and biology,

in my judgment it would be as good as two years added to the course of

medical study. And for two reasons: in the first place, because the

subject-matter of that which they would learn is germane to their

future studies, and is so much gained; in the second place, because you

might clear out of the course of their professional study a great deal

which at present occupies time and attention; and last, but not

least--probably most--they would then come to their medical studies

prepared for that learning from Nature which is what they have to do in

the course of becoming skilful medical men, and for which at present

they are not in the slightest degree prepared by their previous

education.

The second wish I have to express concerns London especially, and I may

speak of it briefly as a more economical use of the teaching power in

the medical schools. At this present time every great hospital in

London--and there are ten or eleven of them--has its complete medical

school, in which not only are the branches of practical medicine

taught, but also those studies in general science, such as chemistry,

elementary physics, general anatomy, and a variety of other topics

which are what used to be called (and the term was an extremely useful

one) the institutes of medicine. That was all very well half a century

ago; it is all very ill now, simply because those general branches of

science, such as anatomy, physiology, chemistry, physiological

chemistry, physiological physics, and so forth, have now become so

large, and the mode of teaching them is so completely altered, that it

is absolutely impossible for any man to be a thoroughly competent

teacher of them, or for any student to be effectually taught without

the devotion of the whole time of the person who is engaged in

teaching. I undertake to say that it is hopelessly impossible for any

man at the present time to keep abreast with the progress of physiology

unless he gives his whole mind to it; and the bigger the mind is, the

more scope he will find for its employment. Again, teaching has become,

and must become still more, practical, and that also involves a large

expenditure of time. But if a man is to give his whole time to my

business he must live by it, and the resources of the schools do not

permit them to maintain ten or eleven physiological specialists.

If the students in their first one or two years were taught the

institutes of medicine, in two or three central institutions, it would

be perfectly easy to have those subjects taught thoroughly and

effectually by persons who gave their whole mind and attention to the

subject; while at the same time the medical schools at the hospitals

would remain what they ought to be--great institutions in which the

largest possible opportunities are laid open for acquiring practical

acquaintance with the phenomena of disease. So that the preliminary or

earlier half of medical education would take place in the central

institutions, and the final half would be devoted altogether to

practical studies in the hospitals.

I happen to know that this conception has been entertained, not only by

myself, but by a great many of those persons who are most interested in

the improvement of medical study for a considerable number of years. I

do not know whether anything will come of it this half-century or not;

but the thing has to be done. It is not a speculative notion; it lies

patent to everybody who is accustomed to teaching, and knows what the

necessities of teaching are; and I should very much like to see the

first step taken--people making up their minds that it has to be done

somehow or other.

The last point to which I may advert is one which concerns the action

of the profession itself more than anything else. We have arrangements

for teaching, we have arrangements for the testing of qualifications,

we have marvellous aids and appliances for the treatment of disease in

all sorts of ways; but I do not find in London at the present time, in

this little place of four or five million inhabitants which supports so

many things, any organisation or any arrangement for advancing the

science of medicine, considered as a pure science. I am quite aware

that there are medical societies of various kinds; I am not ignorant of

the lectureships at the College of Physicians and the College of

Surgeons; there is the Brown Institute; and there is the Society for

the Advancement of Medicine by Research, but there is no means, so far

as I know, by which any person who has the inborn gifts of the

investigator and discoverer of new truth, and who desires to apply that

to the improvement of medical science, can carry out his intention. In

Paris there is the University of Paris, which gives degrees; but there

are also the Sorbonne and the Collége de France, places in which

professoriates are established for the express purpose of enabling men

who have the power of investigation, the power of advancing knowledge

and thereby reacting on practice, to do that which it is their special

mission to do. I do not know of anything of the kind in London; and if

it should so happen that a Claude Bernard or a Ludwig should turn up in

London, I really have not the slightest notion of what we could do with

him. We could not turn him to account, and I think we should have to

export him to Germany or France. I doubt whether that is a good or a

wise condition of things. I do not think it is a condition of things

which can exist for any great length of time, now that people are every

day becoming more and more awake to the importance of scientific

investigation and to the astounding and unexpected manner in which it

everywhere reacts upon practical pursuits. I should look upon the

establishment of some institution of that kind as a recognition on the

part of the medical profession in general, that if their great and

beneficent work is to be carried on, they must, like other people who

have great and beneficent work to do, contribute to the advancement of

knowledge in the only way in which experience shows that it can be

advanced.

* * * * *

Footnotes:

[1]The fees to be paid by candidates for admission to the examinations

of the Divisional Board should be of such an amount as will be

sufficient to cover the cost of the examinations and the other expenses

of the Divisional Board, _and also to provide the sum required to

compensate the medical authorities, or such of them as may be entitled

to compensation, for any pecuniary losses they may hereafter sustain by

reason of the abolition of their privilege of conferring a licence to

practise. Report_ 50, p. xii.

XIV

THE CONNECTION OF THE BIOLOGICAL SCIENCES WITH MEDICINE

[1881]

The great body of theoretical and practical knowledge which has been

accumulated by the labours of some eighty generations, since the dawn

of scientific thought in Europe, has no collective English name to

which an objection may not be raised; and I use the term "medicine" as

that which is least likely to be misunderstood; though, as every one

knows, the name is commonly applied, in a narrower sense, to one of the

chief divisions of the totality of medical science.

Taken in this broad sense, "medicine" not merely denotes a kind of

knowledge, but it comprehends the various applications of that

knowledge to the alleviation of the sufferings, the repair of the

injuries, and the conservation of the health, of living beings. In

fact, the practical aspect of medicine so far dominates over every

other, that the "Healing Art" is one of its most widely-received

synonyms. It is so difficult to think of medicine otherwise than as

something which is necessarily connected with curative treatment, that

we are apt to forget that there must be, and is, such a thing as a pure

science of medicine--a "pathology" which has no more necessary

subservience to practical ends than has zoology or botany.

The logical connection between this purely scientific doctrine of

disease, or pathology, and ordinary biology, is easily traced. Living

matter is characterised by its innate tendency to exhibit a definite

series of the morphological and physiological phenomena which

constitute organisation and life. Given a certain range of conditions,

and these phenomena remain the same, within narrow limits, for each

kind of living thing. They furnish the normal and typical character of

the species, and, as such, they are the subject-matter of ordinary

biology.

Outside the range of these conditions, the normal course of the cycle

of vital phenomena is disturbed; abnormal structure makes its

appearance, or the proper character and mutual adjustment of the

functions cease to be preserved. The extent and the importance of these

deviations from the typical life may vary indefinitely. They may have

no noticeable influence on the general well-being of the economy, or

they may favour it. On the other hand, they may be of such a nature as

to impede the activities of the organism, or even to involve its

destruction.

In the first case, these perturbations are ranged under the wide and

somewhat vague category of "variations"; in the second, they are called

lesions, states of poisoning, or diseases; and, as morbid states, they

lie within the province of pathology. No sharp line of demarcation can

be drawn between the two classes of phenomena. No one can say where

anatomical variations end and tumours begin, nor where modification of

function, which may at first promote health, passes into disease. All

that can be said is, that whatever change of structure or function is

hurtful belongs to pathology. Hence it is obvious that pathology is a

branch of biology; it is the morphology, the physiology, the

distribution, the aetiology of abnormal life.

However obvious this conclusion may be now, it was nowise apparent in

the infancy of medicine. For it is a peculiarity of the physical

sciences that they are independent in proportion as they are imperfect;

and it is only as they advance that the bonds which really unite them

all become apparent. Astronomy had no manifest connection with

terrestrial physics before the publication of the "Principia"; that of

chemistry with physics is of still more modern revelation; that of

physics and chemistry with physiology, has been stoutly denied within

the recollection of most of us, and perhaps still may be.

Or, to take a case which affords a closer parallel with that of

medicine. Agriculture has been cultivated from the earliest times, and,

from a remote antiquity, men have attained considerable practical skill

in the cultivation of the useful plants, and have empirically

established many scientific truths concerning the conditions under

which they flourish. But, it is within the memory of many of us, that

chemistry on the one hand, and vegetable physiology on the other,

attained a stage of development such that they were able to furnish a

sound basis for scientific agriculture. Similarly, medicine took its

rise in the practical needs of mankind. At first, studied without

reference to any other branch of knowledge, it long maintained, indeed

still to some extent maintains, that independence. Historically, its

connection with the biological sciences has been slowly established,

and the full extent and intimacy of that connection are only now

beginning to be apparent. I trust I have not been mistaken in supposing

that an attempt to give a brief sketch of the steps by which a

philosophical necessity has become an historical reality, may not be

devoid of interest, possibly of instruction, to the members of this

great Congress, profoundly interested as all are in the scientific

development of medicine.

The history of medicine is more complete and fuller than that of any

other science, except, perhaps, astronomy; and, if we follow back the

long record as far as clear evidence lights us, we find ourselves taken

to the early stages of the civilisation of Greece. The oldest hospitals

were the temples of Aesculapius; to these Asclepeia, always erected on

healthy sites, hard by fresh springs and surrounded by shady groves,

the sick and the maimed resorted to seek the aid of the god of health.

Votive tablets or inscriptions recorded the symptoms, no less than the

gratitude, of those who were healed; and, from these primitive clinical

records, the half-priestly, half-philosophic caste of the Asclepiads

compiled the data upon which the earliest generalisations of medicine,

as an inductive science, were based.

Science & Education: Essays · 第 19 / 25 段