away. You put yesterday's newspaper in the fire: its knowledge has
vanished away. You buy the old editions of the great encyclopaedias
for a few cents: their knowledge has vanished away. Look how the
coach has been superseded by the use of steam. Look how electricity
has superseded that, and swept a hundred almost new inventions
into oblivion. One of the greatest living authorities, Sir William
Thompson, said in Scotland, at a meeting at which I was present,
"The steam-engine is passing away." "Whether there be knowledge,
it shall vanish away." At every workshop you will see, in the
back yard, a heap of old iron, a few wheels, a few levers, a few
cranks, broken and eaten with rust. Twenty years ago that was
the pride of the city. Men flocked in from the country to see the
great invention; not it is superseded, its day is done. And all
the boasted science and philosophy of this day will soon be old.

In my time, in the university of Edinburgh, the greatest figure
in the faculty was Sir James Simpson, the discoverer of choloform.
Recently his successor and nephew, Professor Simpson, was asked by
the librarian of the University to go to the library and pick out
the books on his subject (midwifery) that were no longer needed.
His reply to the librarian was this:

"Take every text-book that is more than ten years old and put it
down in the cellar."

Sir James Simpson was a great authority only a few years ago: men
came from all parts of the earth to consult him; and almost the
whole teaching of that time is consigned by the science of to-day
to oblivion. And in every branch of science it is the same. "Now
we know in part. We see through a glass darkly." Knowledge does