tombstone is erected, and across it is written the word "obsolete."
New words are continually being born. There is a cradle in which a
word is rocked. A thought is molded to a sound, and the child-word is
born. And then comes a time when the word gets old, and wrinkled, and
expressionless, and is carried mournfully to the grave, and that is the
end of it. So in the schools of medicine. You can remember, so can I,
when the old alopathists reigned supreme. If there was anything the
matter with a man, they let out his blood. Called to the bedside, they
took him to the edge of eternity with medicine, and then practiced all
their art to bring him back to life. One can hardly imagine how
perfect a constitution it took a few years ago to stand the assault of
a doctor. And long after it was found to be a mistake, hundreds and
thousands of the old physicians clung to it, carried around with them,
in one pocket, a bottle of jalap, and in the other a rusty lancet,
sorry that they couldn't find some patient idiotic enough to allow the
experiment to be made again.

So these schools, and these theories, and these religions die hard.
What else can they do? Like the paintings of the old masters, they are
kept alive because so much money has been invested in them. Think of
the amount of money that has been invested in superstition! Think of
the schools that have been founded for the more general diffusion of
useless knowledge! Think of the colleges wherein men are taught that it
is dangerous to think, and that they must never use their brains except
in an act of faith! Think of the millions and billions of dollars that
have been expended in churches, in temples and in cathedrals! Think of
the thousands and thousands of men who depend for their living upon the
ignorance of mankind! Think of those who grow rich on credulity and
who fatten on faith! Do you suppose they are going to die without a
struggle? They will die if they don't struggle. What are they to do?
From the bottom of my heart I sympathize with the poor clergyman that
has had all his common sense educated out of him, and is now to be
thrown out upon the cold and uncharitable world. His prayers are not
answered; he gets no help from on high, and the pews are beginning to
criticize the pulpit. What is the man to do? If he suddenly change,
he is gone. If he preaches what he really believes, he will get notice
to quit. And yet if he and the congregation would