July 25, 1913] 



SCIENCE 



106 



a navy. But to recover this gold would 

 cost many times its worth. One obtains 

 gold, to be sure, by working in these places, 

 but only at a great price. The distribution 

 of knowledge is analogous and one must 

 work or mine — to continue the simile — only 

 where it really pays to work and leave the 

 scattered dust of information to be dealt 

 with by more effective methods. 



There is one further aspect of the in- 

 crease in knowledge and the rapid altera- 

 tion in point of view that still needs a 

 word. One may safely predict that what 

 you have learned of method and right rea- 

 soning, such experience as you have 

 gained in the art of observation and in- 

 duction and the criticism of your own con- 

 clusions, will stay with you throughout life. 

 So will many of the bits of knowledge 

 which have stood the test of years and thus 

 inevitably survived many an assault. 

 These are the relatively stable things, and 

 by virtue of that fact they can be expressed 

 in a few words, without elaboration. 



I desire to impress on you, however, that 

 we must regard the knowledge of our time 

 for the most part, not as final or ultimate 

 in any rigid sense, but merely as the best 

 available at the moment — certain to be im- 

 proved with the advance of time, while, 

 nevertheless, valuable and worth while in 

 so far as it aids us to control natural phe- 

 nomena, like disease. 



In holding that in large measure our 

 knowledge is open to change and to im- 

 provement, often of a fundamental char- 

 acter, we admit that in this respect our 

 generation is only a repetition of those gone 

 before, and this admission should make us 

 very sympathetic with the past. No earlier 

 age is to be discredited because of its tools. 

 Primitive man with his stone axe or copper 

 knife is to be rated by the use he made of 

 his simple inventions. Thus in medicine 

 your predecessors are to be esteemed for 



the intelligence with which they used their 

 rough instruments and fragmentary infor- 

 mation. Nothing is more certain than that 

 the generations which follow us will also. 

 need to mingle mercy with their judgments. 



Tour knowledge then and the principles 

 with which you work must be regarded in 

 a twofold way: for each present moment, 

 fixed; but for the future, transient. 



When an experiment is in progress to 

 test an hypothesis, the hypothesis for the 

 time must be held as if rigidly true, for it 

 is the hypothesis which is to be examined. 



Wlien, however, repeated tests fail to sup- 

 port it, then it may perhaps be put in a 

 psychological museum, as a matter of his- 

 toric interest or relegated to the scrap heap 

 — a procedure usually to be preferred. 

 The reason for putting emphasis on this 

 point of view is found in the fact that it is 

 quite contrary to one which, I regret to 

 say, has often been tacitly encouraged, 

 namely: that by learning rather dogmatic- 

 ally certain things through a small number 

 of years, one was thereby fitted to care for 

 the sick, and also thereby largely relieved 

 from the need for further mental growth. 

 Against such doctrine it is my desire to 

 protest. 



Nothing could be more unfortunate if 

 medicine is to be regarded as a science and 

 an art. As a matter of fact, the mental 

 attitude evolved from the study of medi- 

 cine depends but little on the precise sub- 

 jects to which attention has been given. 

 One may have studied more or less in many 

 given directions — but if in his studies he 

 has been occupied with subjects involving 

 important and fundamental ideas, topics 

 therefore suitable for training, if his in- 

 struction has been received from men who 

 were not only informed on their subject, 

 but contributing to its advance, he is well 

 prepared for the problems of the physician. 



In the older days, especially in western 



