In the field of medical science the controversy rages at full blast today.
An endless succession of hypotheses, conjectures and dogmas lies widespread before us—a troubled sea of uncertainties—a complex labyrinth of doubt.
The "doctors of medicine" are many but responsible physicians are few, while disease is constantly on the increase among mankind.
It is really little that the people have to learn, for instinct has taught them there is little to be hoped of succour from the professional source. But the world-old habit of superstitious fear and reverence for the "Medicine Man" fetish yet holds its grip upon the race—alike in the savage or the Senate and, despite the knowledge of its fallacy, humanity, still faithful, turns to it weakly, fear-driven, in its hour of distress, knowing no self-reliance and no safer refuge.
The reader will pardon this digression, since it is better that from the outset we should divest ourselves of all delusions and recognize existing conditions as they really are in order that it may help to eliminate these ignorant superstitions from the public mind and implant therein the wholesome fact that there is no magic in medicine but simply an ordinary problem of cause and effect.
Existence is movement; the whole visible world is progress, development. These are facts which, in truth, are daily becoming more generally known. But man—even modern man—is still so stubbornly unyielding in his faith that what he learns in an instant becomes immovably rooted in his mind to the utter exclusion, generally, of anything new, which even though it be a matter of demonstrated fact, it matters not if at variance with this earlier knowledge; to him it is an impossibility.
How often the fallacy of such ultra-conservative principles has been demonstrated has no bearing upon the case; the fact remains—irrational, stupid though it be—that, sublimely indifferent to criticism, it survives, with all the wrong and persecution that follows in its train.
But one of the most noticeable surprises of this description occurred in the year 1896, when Professor Roentgen made public his discovery of the X-rays; for through this discovery facts were disclosed such for instance, as the permeability of solid bodies by luminous rays and the possibility of photographic examination of bony tissues in living creatures—facts entirely incompatible with prevailing ideas and teachings. But these facts were not only intrinsically veracious but were capable of occular demonstration, beyond all possibility of doubt, and thus, as nothing could be changed or refuted, science found itself compelled, for once, to honour the truth in its initial stage—to receive them gracefully unto itself and adopt them in its teachings.
This discovery of the X-rays was followed closely by that of the N-rays, by the two Curies, husband and wife. This further discovery was a still greater surprise to the scientific world than the former one; for by its aid was established nothing less than the inconstancy of matter. Hitherto science, dealing not with knowledge, but with opinions, had held the belief that the atom is the ultimate form of matter and that no chemical or physical force can divide it, a teaching held to be incontrovertible.
First, the discovery of the X-rays had markedly disturbed this belief, and then, on the discovery of the N-rays, it soon became indubitably clear that a constant destruction is taking place within the atom, an uninterrupted throwing off of smaller particles.