Meanwhile, in the calm, enduring realm of scientific knowledge, there
was progress, as there is always progress.
No matter what man's cruelty to his fellows, he has still his
curiosity. Hence he continues forever gathering more and more facts
explaining his environment. He continues also molding that environment
to his desires. Imagination makes him a magician.
Most surprising of his recent steps in this exploration of his
surroundings was the attainment of the South Pole in 1911.[1] This came
so swiftly upon the conquest of the North Pole, that it caught the
world unprepared; it was an unexpected triumph. Yet it marks the
closing of an era. Earth's surface has no more secrets concealed from
man. For half a century past, the only remaining spaces of complete
mystery, of utter blankness on our maps, were the two Poles. And now
both have been attained. The gaze of man's insatiable wonderment must
hereafter be turned upon the distant stars.
[Footnote 1: See _Discovery of the South Pole_, page 218.]
But man does not merely explore his environment; he alters it. Most
widespread and important of our recent remodelings of our surroundings
has been the universal adoption of the automobile. This machine has so
increased in popularity and in practical utility that we may well call
ours the "Automobile Age." The change is not merely that one form of
vehicle is superseding another on our roads and in our streets. We face
an impressive theme for meditation in the fact that up to the present
generation man was still, as regarded his individual personal transit,
in the same position as the Romans of two thousand years ago, dependent
upon the horse as his swiftest mode of progress. With the automobile we
have suddenly doubled, quadrupled the size of our "neighborhood," the
space which a man may cover alone at will for a ramble or a call. As
for speed, we seem to have succumbed to an actual mania for
ever-increasing motion. The automobile is at present the champion
speed-maker, the fastest means of propelling himself man has yet
invented. But the aeroplane and the hydroplane are not far behind, and
even the electric locomotive has a thrill of promise for the speed
maniac.[2]
[Footnote 2: See _Man's Fastest Mile_, page 73.]
In thus developing his mastery over Nature man sometimes forgets his
danger, oversteps the narrow margin of safety he has left between
himself and the baffled forces of his ancient tyrants, Fire and Water,
Earth and Air. Then indeed, in his moments of weakness, the primordial
forces turn upon him and he becomes subject to tragic and terrific
punishment. Of such character was the most prominent disaster of these
years, the sinking of the ocean steamer _Titanic_. The best talent of
England and America had united to produce this monster ship, which was
hailed as the last, the biggest, the most perfect thing man could do in
shipbuilding. It was pronounced "unsinkable." Its captain was reckless
in his confidence; and Nature reached down in menace from the regions
of northern ice; and the ship perished.[1] Since then another great
ship has sunk, under almost similar conditions, and with almost equal
loss of life.
[Footnote 1: See _Tragedy of the Titanic_, page 265.]
Oddly enough at the very moment when we have thus had reimpressed upon
us the uncertainty of our outward mechanical defenses against the
elements, we have been making a curious addition to our knowledge of
inner means of defense. The science of medicine has taken several
impressive strides in recent years, but none more suggestive of future
possibilities of prolonging human life than the recent work done in
preserving man's internal organs and tissues to a life of their own
outside the body.[2] Already it is possible to transfer healthy tissues
thus preserved, or even some of the simpler organs, from one body to
another. Men begin to talk of the probability of rejuvenating the
entire physical form. Thus science may yet bring us to encounter as
actual fact the deep philosophic thought of old, the thought that
regards man as merely a will and a brain, and the body as but the
outward clothing of these, mere drapery, capable of being changed as
the spirit wills. There is no visible limit to this wondrous drama in
which man's patient mastering of his immediate environment is gradually
teaching him to mold to his purpose all the potent forces of the
universe.
[Footnote 2: See _Our Progressing Knowledge of Life Surgery_, page
273.]
In this assurance of ultimate success, let us find such consolation as
we may. Though world-war may continue its devastation, though its
increasing horrors may shake our civilization to the deepest depths,
though its wanton destruction may rob us of the hoarded wealth of
generations and the art treasures of all the past, though its beastlike
massacres may reduce the number of men fitted to bear onward the torch
of progress until of their millions only a mere pitiable handful
survive, yet the steps which science has already won cannot be lost.
Knowledge survives; and a happier generation than ours standing some
day secure against the monster of militarism shall continue to uplift
man's understanding till he dwells habitually on heights as yet
undreamed.