[Illustration:
Copyright, Ewing Galloway]
[Illustration: _The Majestic, Largest Steamship in the World_]
POPULAR SCIENCE LIBRARY
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
GARRETT P. SERVISS
AUTHORS
WILLIAM J. MILLER
HIPPOLYTE GRUENER
A. RUSSELL BOND
D. W. HERING
LOOMIS HAVEMEYER
ERNEST G. MARTIN
ARTHUR SELWYN-BROWN
ROBERT CHENAULT GIVLER
ERNEST INGERSOLL
WILFRED MASON BARTON
WILLIAM B. SCOTT
ERNEST J. STREUBEL
NORMAN TAYLOR
DAVID TODD
CHARLES FITZHUGH TALMAN
ROBIN BEACH
ARRANGED IN SIXTEEN VOLUMES
WITH A HISTORY OF SCIENCE, GLOSSARIES
AND A GENERAL INDEX
_ILLUSTRATED_
[Illustration]
VOLUME SIXTEEN
P. F. COLLIER & SON COMPANY
NEW YORK
Copyright 1922
BY P. F. COLLIER & SON COMPANY
MANUFACTURED IN U. S. A.
HOW TO USE THE POPULAR
SCIENCE LIBRARY
BY
GARRETT P. SERVISS
HISTORY OF SCIENCE
BY
ARTHUR SELWYN-BROWN
GENERAL INDEX
[Illustration]
P. F. COLLIER & SON COMPANY
NEW YORK
PREFACE
The final or Index volume of the Popular Science Library not only
increases the value of this great set, but actually multiplies it.
Volume XVI is in three parts: First, the editor, Garrett Serviss, in
"How to Use the Popular Science Library," describes the way the reader
may enjoy and profit most from its store of scientific knowledge
in connection with his everyday experiences. Then follows Arthur
Selwyn-Brown's "History of Science," an excellent foundation for the
study of man's achievements in his struggle to understand and turn to
his own use the forces of nature. Here is a concise record of progress
from the earliest times until now--discoveries and inventions past,
present, and about to come.
The third part of Volume XVI occupies nearly half the book. It is the
General Index, which is as complete and as practical as it is possible
for an index to be. Here, then, we have sixteen volumes on science,
every work agreeable to read, every work complete in itself, and all of
them, including the Index, prepared by specialists, each of whom has
already gained distinction in the field he covers. The Index binds the
collection into a consistent whole, making every bit of knowledge in
the sixteen books available to reader or student without delay.
The style employed in the Index is a standard for such material. Volume
numbers are represented by the Roman numerals, i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi,
vii, viii, ix, x, xi, xii, xiii, xiv, xv, xvi. Pages are indicated by
figures. All topics and subtopics are arranged alphabetically.
When you read or study the Popular Science Library, keep the Index
volume at hand whenever it is convenient. It will add greatly to your
interest and give you a depth of insight into these matters if you can
compare one author's opinions and descriptions with those of another.
If you are consulting the Library as a reference collection for
information on particular topics, the Index will give you volume and
page for every bit of text on the subject you are considering.
The Popular Science Library is unique in the number and standing of
its authors and in the care that has been taken to make it the easiest
as well as the most engrossing of all scientific collections for the
reader or student to use.
CONTENTS
PAGE
HOW TO USE THE POPULAR SCIENCE LIBRARY. BY GARRETT P. SERVISS 9
HISTORY OF SCIENCE 39-198
CHAPTER
I. HISTORY OF SCIENCE 39
II. PRIMITIVE MAN AND EARLY CIVILIZATIONS 46
III. PRE-BABYLONIAN SCIENCE 56
IV. EGYPTIAN SCIENCE 64
V. FOUNDING OF SYSTEMATIC SCIENCE IN GREECE 76
VI. GOLDEN AGE OF GREEK SCIENCES 86
VII. THE ROMAN AND MIDDLE AGES 97
VIII. SCIENCE IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 106
IX. PRELUDE TO MODERN SCIENCE--THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 117
X. PHYSICAL SCIENCES IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 129
XI. THE NATURAL SCIENCES 139
XII. ORGANIC EVOLUTION, VARIATION, AND HEREDITY 149
XIII. CHEMICAL AND BOTANICAL THEORIES 159
XIV. GEOLOGY, METALLURGY, AND METEOROLOGY 168
XV. MEDICINE AND PHARMACY 178
XVI. ELECTRICITY AND RADIOACTIVITIES 188
XVII. SCIENCE IN THE TWENTIETH CENTURY 195
GENERAL INDEX 199-384
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
THE MAJESTIC, LARGEST STEAMSHIP IN THE WORLD _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
EOHIPPUS--FROM WHICH THE MODERN HORSE DEVELOPED 16
ORNITHOLESTES--A PREHISTORIC ANIMAL OF AMERICA 17
HUNTSMAN, HORSE, AND HUNTING DOG OF LONG AGO--FROM
AN ANCIENT CRETAN FRESCO 17
PREHISTORIC PAINTINGS--AN EXHIBITION OF COPIES
FROM THE CAVERN AT ALTAMIRA, SPAIN 24
SABER-TOOTHED TIGER THAT ONCE ROAMED OVER NORTH
AMERICA 25
GUTENBERG'S PRINTING PRESSES--MODELS ON EXHIBITION 32
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN'S PRINTING PRESS 33
MODEL OF THE "SANTA MARIA," THE FLAGSHIP OF
COLUMBUS 48
CURTISS NAVY RACER, THE AIRPLANE THAT WON THE
PULITZER RACE OF 1921 49
U. S. ARMY DIRIGIBLE ON A TRANSCONTINENTAL FLIGHT 49
ELECTRIC MOTOR OF 1834 64
TURNING LATHE OF 1843 64
EDISON PHONOGRAPH OF 1878 65
WHITNEY'S COTTON GIN 65
DE WITT CLINTON TRAIN OF 1831 BESIDE A MODERN
LOCOMOTIVE 80
LOCOMOTIVE OF THE 1870 PERIOD 81
"JOHN BULL," A LOCOMOTIVE BROUGHT FROM ENGLAND
IN 1831 81
WEATHER AND ASTRONOMICAL INSTRUMENTS ON THE
ROOF OF GREENWICH OBSERVATORY, ENGLAND 112
MOORING TOWER FOR AIRSHIPS, WITH THE "R-24"
FASTENED HEAD ON 113
HOSPITAL ROOM IN WHICH INFECTED ARTICLES ARE
STERILIZED 160
MODERN OPERATING ROOM IN PARIS, FITTED WITH A
GLASS DOME AND RADIO MICROPHONES FOR OBSERVING
STUDENTS AND DOCTORS 161
EDOUARD BELIN AND THE TELAUTOGRAPH, WHICH TRANSMITS
PICTURES BY WIRE 176
LEE DE FOREST, INVENTOR OF THE OSCILLATING AUDION 177
AUTOMOBILE WITH RADIO EQUIPMENT FOR LISTENING IN
EN TOUR 177
GIFTS FOR TUTANKHAMEN BROUGHT BY ONE OF HIS
VICEROYS 192
TUTANKHAMEN'S TOMB--BRINGING UP THE HATHOR
COUCH 193
QUEEN NEFERTITI, MOTHER-IN-LAW OF TUTANKHAMEN
AND WIFE OF AHKNATON 193
HOW TO USE THE POPULAR SCIENCE LIBRARY
This series of books is written for all the people and not for
specialists only, though it is the work of specialists who know how to
explain their subjects clearly and interestingly, without unnecessary
technicalities and with keen appreciation of the popular and constantly
increasing desire for scientific knowledge.
The supreme importance of science in the wonderful age in which our lot
has been cast was demonstrated with overwhelming force of conviction by
the events of the World War. If, as certain persons assert, science may
be accused of having rendered war more destructive and terrible, yet,
on the other hand, no one can deny that it was science that saved the
world from sliding backward into an age of despotism.
The true importance of science for everybody arises from its rapidly
increasing service in the development of human industry in all its
forms, for industry is the mother of democracy.
Said Gabriel Lippman, the French physicist, inventor of color
photography, who died in the summer of 1921: "For thousands of years
science progressed by groping and feeling its way, and coincidentally
industry got slowly on by guesswork; but within the last century
science has developed more than during all preceding time, while
industry has sprung upon its feet and begun to march with the strides
of a giant."
Notwithstanding its immense importance and the vast extent and
complication of its application in modern times, science is not
really difficult for any person of ordinary school education and of
good natural intelligence to comprehend, provided it is presented
in a clear, plain, common sense manner, in popular language with
illustrations drawn from everyday life and experience. The much
talked-of methods of science are, after all, nothing more than the
methods of common sense, applied with systematic care by minds
disciplined to a high degree of efficiency. And, in fact, the only
practical difference between the mind of a trained scientist and that
of any other intelligent person is that the scientist has acquired a
way or habit of looking at and thinking about things and events, which
enables him to get at their inmost nature and meaning more swiftly and
accurately than he could do if he went to work in a haphazard manner
as, in truth, his forerunners of the earlier centuries were obliged
to do. The pioneer must always work by rule of thumb, but when he has
exploited his field he knows better ways.
Each branch of science has its own particular methods, but it is
not necessary for the average reader to study these special methods
in order to become able to grasp the facts and principles that have
been developed by them. The results are all thrown into a common
store--or should be if science is to attain its utmost usefulness to
humanity--and from the common store the great public, the people at
large, should be enabled freely to draw. The object of this series of
books is to form such a store of science for the people.
It may encourage those who look with some degree of timidity upon the
task of trying to understand the great discoveries and achievements
of modern science to know that even the ablest scientists, leaders in
their own particular branches, do not pretend, or attempt, to grasp the
special methods or the technicalities of any division of science except
that one in which their own work is done. They stand, with regard to
other branches, practically on the same footing with the unscientific
reader, having over him only such possible advantages as their special
training in clear thinking and in the intense application of the mental
powers may give them.
Besides, science is really the most interesting thing in the
world--outside of men and women--and _they_ would be less interesting,
even to themselves, if science had not transformed their lives as well
as their surroundings. If one of Voltaire's favorite messengers from
some other, wiser world had visited our earth a few hundred years ago,
or even only one hundred, and should now repeat his call, he would be
amazed, and no doubt delighted, by the changes in every feature of life
and society which he would find that science had brought about, as if
by magic, during the interval between his visits. He would be likely to
exclaim: "Some great teacher and trainer from a more enlightened part
of the universe must have been here since I saw this world before. What
a marvelous new spirit he has imparted to these creatures. Through him
they have become more masterful and more like sons of God."
See if you can find a single detail of your daily life that is not
affected by science, or upon which science does not throw new light. It
is fascinating to trace out the scientific relations of the simplest
things that surround us, or the most ordinary occurrences and incidents.
Start with your first awakening in the morning, and you will perceive
that there is not a thing that you see, or that in any way attracts
your attention, that is not touched and illuminated by science, and
often in the most unexpected and delightful ways. It is by considering
these things that one may best perceive how to use the volumes of this
little library. As you open your eyes in the morning you see a bright
glow through the window curtain, then you know that the sun has risen.
But stop a moment. What does that mean--"the sun has risen"? The
sun has not "risen" at all. But, one of the greatest facts of the
science of astronomy is illustrated before your eyes--a fact that it
took mankind thousands of years to find out. You are standing in the
astronomer's shoes now, if you choose to wear them. This is a part
of his field of science. It took him a long time to convince the
world that the "rising" of the sun in the east next morning after
its "setting" in the west really means that the globular earth has
turned half way over during the night. If this seems simple to you
now, it seemed very hard to comprehend to our remote ancestors, who,
though reasoning men like ourselves, had not learned as much about the
relativity of motion as we now know, though even we may be puzzled by
some of the consequences that Einstein has drawn from it. And a hundred
other things that astronomy has discovered about the sun and the other
suns, called stars, and the other worlds, called planets, immediately
rush to your mind, and you turn to the volume on astronomy to read
about them.
But this is only a beginning of the string of everyday incidents
that are rendered curiously interesting as soon as their scientific
relations and meanings become evident to you. Science is right at your
elbow to raise questions and to answer them the moment you step out of
bed, and your mind begins to work.
As you throw open the window to see what kind of a day it is going to
be, whether fair, or cloudy, or rainy, cool or warm, you draw your
conclusions from the appearance of sky and air, but in doing that
you are entering another field covered by another branch of science
and included in our little library--meteorology, or the realm of the
air--and you may be sure that the correctness of the conclusions that
you draw from the aspect of the clouds and the feeling of the air will
be greatly increased, not only in certainty, but also in interest,
if you read what the students of this subject have learned about the
laws and the mysteries of the rains, clouds, cyclones, barometric
pressures, great winds and genial breezes, great storms and little
storms; in short, the whole wonderful science of the atmosphere, that
invisible, yet powerful kingdom of the air, which we are just beginning
to annex to our world of activities without regard to what its natural
occupants, the birds, think of such an invasion.
Now you leave the window to begin making your morning ablutions. You
turn on a faucet and take a drink, or plunge hands and face into the
refreshing liquid, so cool, lively, and invigorating. But a bird or
any four-footed animal may find just as keen physical enjoyment in the
touch and taste of the water as you do. You, however, because you are
a thinking being, possess a source of enjoyment from the touch and
appearance of the water that is not open to those humbler creatures,
and that source of enjoyment springs from the principles and facts of
another branch of science which the mere sight of the running water may
call to mind if you have caught the spirit of these books--the science
of chemistry, whose early history is filled with that irresistible
kind of romance that pertains to the search for Eldorado, or the
strivings of the human spirit after the powers of magic; for the realm
of chemistry was once a kind of semi-scientific dreamland, wherein the
"alchemists" delved at the same time for the "philosopher's stone"
which was to turn base metal into gold, and for the wand of the
magician which would give to its possessor the boundless gratifications
of a Faust. Water is no mystery to the lower animals, but it is a great
mystery even yet to the highest ones--ourselves--because we have been
enabled to analyze it. You cannot look at it pouring from the faucet,
and sparkling into bubbles, without recalling the fact that it is
composed of two invisible, silent gases, and that chemistry tells us
not only how to make the water disappear by taking those gases apart,
but also how to form new water by making the two gases combine. The
mystery is--why should this be so? It is a captivating question, and
the business of the book on chemistry is to give you all possible light
on the solution of that question, and others of a like nature. You
will find, too, that the very latest chemistry has, strangely enough,
discovered a sort of justification for the extravagant expectations of
the ancient alchemists, by finding a way in which one substance may
actually change, or be changed, into another, different substance--one
"element" taking the form of another "element"--and also by getting
clues to the existence of marvelous locked-up energies in matter, the
release of which would give man control over powers that could properly
be called "magical."
After finishing your toilet, with all the suggestions and remembrances
of chemical science that it has produced, you start to quicken the
circulation of your blood by catching up a pair of dumb-bells, or
Indian clubs, or by pulling elastic cords, or banging a leather ball
with your fists, as if you meant to go in for the championship of
the world. Now, what taught you the value of such exercises? You are
still on the ground of science, and you are practically demonstrating
the principles of another of its branches--the science of health, or
hygiene, which is a part of the subject of medicine, taken in its
broadest signification, for, as the volume on that subject will assure
you, the greatest service that this science can render to mankind is
in teaching us the laws of our physical existence, and indicating,
directly or indirectly, how all the functions of the body may be kept
in the best working order by proper attention and exercise. You will
find such things pointed out in the several sciences that deal with the
body, such as physiology and medicine.
While you are making the leather ball strike the ceiling with
resounding whacks, your dog, excited by the inspiring noise, bursts
into the room, and interrupts your exercise with his enthusiastic
morning greetings, expressed as energetically by his wagging tail as
by his joyous barks and licks, all anticipatory of a lively morning
run. He brings immediately into your mind the thought of still another
division of science--zoölogy--to which you will devote many pleasant
half-hours of reading, for it is full of most entertaining matter, as
well as of matter calculated to awaken profound and useful thought
concerning the relations of the many different members of the animal
world to one another, and especially to their head and chief, man, to
whom the supervision of the whole was, according to the Bible story,
originally committed. Familiar as your dog may be to you, there are a
hundred particulars of his family relationships, his descent from wild
ancestors, etc., which can only become known to you through the studies
that have been devoted to the science of zoölogy by curious-minded
investigators from the times of Aristotle and Pliny down to our own
day, when we have seen an ex-President of the United States wandering
adventurously through some of the remotest portions of the inhabited
globe, seeking fresh knowledge of, and personal acquaintance with, the
rarer kinds of wild animals, and hunting down in their native wilds
great beasts which the Cæsars used to admire from the security of the
imperial seat, high above the bloody sands of the Roman arenas. And
this modern ruler, after having laid down the political power intrusted
to him by fellow citizens, found no occupation so attractive as that of
adding something to the growing stores of science.
[Illustration:
Painting, Chas. R. Knight. (American Museum of Natural History)
THE LITTLE EOHIPPUS. FROM WHICH THE MODERN HORSE DEVELOPED]
[Illustration: ORNITHOLESTES--PREHISTORIC ANIMAL OF AMERICA]
[Illustration:
Photo, Metropolitan Museum
HUNTSMAN. HORSE AND HUNTING DOG OF LONG AGO
From an ancient Cretan fresco]
Next, your stomach, awakened to its wants and needs by the restored
circulation resulting from your lively exercises, reminds you of what
will be at the same time a pleasure and a means of sustained strength
for body and mind, your breakfast. Breakfast properly comes under
the supervision of the science of physiology. It is also suggestive
of mechanics and physics, since it has to do with the stoking of the
furnace that keeps the bodily engine up to its work. Here you are face
to face with a branch of science which you could no more safely neglect
than an engineer or a fireman could neglect to learn the elements and
principles underlying his critically important occupation. One of the
first sciences to be systematically developed was that of man's body,
including its structure, or anatomy, and its functioning, or internal
action, physiology. You will find that correct ideas on these subjects
were slow in being developed, yet even in the most ancient times men
were shrewd and wise enough to understand the importance of knowing
something about their own bodies, in order to be able to take proper
care of them, and to deal with wounds and sickness.
It was an old saying that "the proper study of mankind is man." But
that is a study which has two main branches. The first covers the
subjects of physiology, anatomy, medicine, etc., while the second
relates to that even more intimate part of ourselves which has ever
been a fascinating mystery, and which we call the mind, or sometimes
the soul. This is the theme of the science of psychology, whose name
comes from that delicate, inscrutable spirit, _Psyche_, the Soul,
which plays like a flitting sunbeam through the magical atmosphere of
Greek mythology. Now, this subtle and exquisite science, often more
poetic and mystic than scientific in its original character, presents
itself in its more sober and practical dress to you as soon as, having
finished your breakfast and prepared your bodily energies for the day's
work, you begin to meditate on the problems of the day opening before
you.
When you went to bed, perhaps your mind was agitated by some important
matter of business through whose intricacies you could not clearly
see your way. You turned and tossed on your pillow, and stated and
restated the facts and arguments and lines of reasoning, but all the
while they became more obscure and entangled until at last, in sheer
exhaustion, you fell into a troubled sleep. But this morning, to your
immense surprise and gratification, without any effort on your part,
and while you are occupied with other things--putting on your clothes,
hitting the ball, playing with the dog, eating your bacon and eggs, or
what not--suddenly the elusive clue or solution, so vainly sought the
night before, presents itself plain before you. In an instant, in the
twinkling of an eye, the troublesome problem is solved, as easily and
naturally as water runs down hill, and you are provoked at yourself for
having been so dull and stupid as not to see it all before. But not so
fast! You were stupid, to be sure, but it was not your mind's fault as
you are now disposed to think, but the trouble lay in your physical
fatigue. You were driving your brain too long without refreshment, and
it became like an engine whose oil cups are empty. It could not receive
and report the impressions of thought.
Now this kind of experience comes many times to many men and women,
and it is the purpose of the book on psychology in this series to
make everybody acquainted with the laws of the working of our minds
through our brains. Yet, how many of those who are frequently puzzled
by such things are aware that there is a branch of science, one of
the most captivatingly interesting of all, devoted especially to this
subject? By studying the volume on psychology you will get light on
just such things as so greatly puzzled you, and haunted you, before the
solution of your problem unexpectedly rose up, as it were, and stood
plain before you on the breakfast table, after having for twenty-four
hours resisted your utmost efforts to master it, or even to get an
effective hold upon it. It is unnecessary to speak of the immense
importance to all human beings of a knowledge of the laws governing the
manifestations of the mind, by taking advantage of which they may get
the most out of themselves with the least loss of time and expenditure
of effort.
Let us keep on further along the wonderful road of science on which
your feet begin almost unknowingly to tread from the moment of your
awakening, and which they follow, often just as unconsciously, until
you fall asleep at the close of another day; while, as we have just
seen, even when we are asleep our minds are not altogether inactive,
and may even secretly disentangle the puzzles of the day while our
tired brains are restoring themselves with slumber. Perhaps you live
in the suburbs of a city, or far from the business center, and have to
take a considerable journey from your house to your place of work or
business. Maybe you go by automobile, or by street car, or by a trolley
route, or take a commuters' train. In any event, whether you drive your
own car, or ride in one drawn by a motor or a locomotive engine, you
are brought face to face with the science of physics, including, of
course, not only mechanics, but also, in our own day, electricity and
magnetism. If you glance at a steam locomotive, puffing and blowing,
and then at a smooth, silent electric motor drawing a long train, and
then at a swift automobile winding and turning with serpentine agility
through crowds of slow horse-drawn vehicles--in all cases your memory
must recall the long, hard road by which these things were brought
about, and you must be lacking in intelligent curiosity if you do not
resolve to know for yourself, not only the history of these triumphs of
human invention, but the principles of action upon which they depend.
If you have a car, it would be a good thing to drive it yourself and
learn to take care of its machinery yourself, for thus you would go far
toward mastering the elementary principles of the science of mechanics,
which has done more than all other things combined to transform the
face of the world we live in. You cannot, of course, acquire all
this knowledge by practical experience, but by putting together what
you observe with what you read in the volumes devoted to mechanics,
physics, chemistry, electricity, etc., you will find that every day is
a school day for you in which you have learned something new, useful,
and interesting, and something, moreover, which every wide-awake
person in this wide-awake age ought necessarily to know, and can know
by pursuing such a course as that just suggested. Your morning's ride
to work will be transformed into a delightful intellectual experience
if you prepare yourself by a little daily reading to understand the
construction and manner of working of all the machines, engines, and
mechanisms presented on every side to your inspection.
But machinery is not everything in life. Suppose that as you ride
along your eye is caught by the great beauty of the flower gardens
by the roadside, their blossoms bright in the morning sunshine and
sparkling with the yet undried dew, as if sprinkled with diamonds.
Perhaps your attention may never before have happened to be called
so strongly to these objects, and possibly you have hitherto remained
almost unacquainted with the names and peculiarities of some of the
most common plants and flowers. But this morning, for some accidental
reason, which may have a psychological origin, you are particularly
charmed with the brilliant sight, and you resolve that you will be no
longer ignorant of what could, manifestly, give you so much pleasure,
besides being of unquestionable usefulness. When you return home you
will take up the volume on botany, and it may lead you into a realm of
mental delight previously unknown to you.
If it is the springtime, you may be interested by the sight of a tall,
graceful tree, as lofty as a pine, and as straight in trunk, with many
exquisite blossoms hanging from the pendulous stems on its great limbs,
fifty or more feet above the ground, as if it were a flower garden in
the air for the special delectation of the birds. Having never heard of
a flowering tree outside the tropics, you feel a keen desire to know
what this one is, and thus a way of introduction, founded on keen,
personal interest, is opened for you to the science of botany. And
few persons can take a ride, or a walk, anywhere in city or country
or park, without having attention attracted by some unknown flower or
plant, or tree, and without becoming aware how much pleasure is lost,
and how much useful knowledge missed, by lack of the easily acquired
knowledge of these things, which anybody can have by giving to it
only that amount of time which would otherwise be wasted almost as
completely as if the eyes were kept closed and the mind dismissed from
its home in the brain. More mysterious, and not less fascinating than
flowers and trees, are the birds and insects that flit by on their own
errands. To explain them you have the volume on zoölogy, the science of
animal life. Botany and zoölogy together go far to revolutionize the
ordinary man's ideas about the attractiveness of outdoor life.
For the cultivator of the soil, whether farmer, gardener, or fruit
grower, botany, of course, is the queen of sciences--though he may not
safely remain ignorant of the others mentioned, which form a brilliant
court for his queen. In no direction has science lately proved itself
so indispensable as in the application of botanical knowledge to the
improvement of agricultural operations of all kinds. In France, always
one of the richest of lands in this respect, the government has since
the war made special provisions for placing instruction in botany and
plant physiology, and the results of all advances in the science of
the vegetable kingdom, before the pupils of the primary as well as
those of the secondary and higher schools. Botanical reading and study
are encouraged in every possible way. One of the most significant
propositions for the extension of this educational reform consists in
the suggestion that the schools in the country districts give much more
attention to the various branches of botanical knowledge than the city
schools do, for the purpose not only of supplying instruction that will
be of fundamental practical use to the young people who grow up on
the land and are to make its cultivation their life's occupation, but
also of stimulating a love of the country for itself, its scenes, its
atmosphere, its society, its amusements, and its simple, beautiful, and
healthful ways of life.
As your train, or car, rushes through a rock cut where the roadway
has been carried, without change of level or grade, through the
round back of a hill, you may happen to see on the side walls of the
excavation curious striations, or cross checkings, of the rock surface,
or alternate strata, or layers, of varying color and texture; some
composed of smooth-faced stone, of a dark, uniform color, and others
of coarse granular masses of variegated hue, some of whose particles
flash like microscopic mirrors in the glancing sunlight that grazes
the top of the cut. Here, then, you are plunged into the wonder
world of the geologist and the mineralogist, the subject of one of
the most interesting of our volumes. That man must indeed be dull of
intellect who does not feel a thrill of interest at the sight of these
signs and inscriptions, written by the ancient hand of nature in the
rocks, and telling, in language far more easily decipherable than the
hieroglyphics of Egypt, the story of the gradual growth of this round
planet on whose surface we are confined, like flies or ants, as it
rotates and revolves in empty space, circling with us around a star,
ninety-three million miles away, called the sun, which saw the birth of
our world and has ever since kept it warmed and lighted with its rays.
In those layers of rock in the railway cut you see the leaves of the
book of geology, infinitely older than the oldest scripture from man's
hands, and relating things that occurred in those far-off nights and
mornings of time that flitted over the globe ages before the human
stem had set off from the trunk of terrestrial life. These geologic
pages speak of occurrences in the building of the world that happened
millions of years ago, and millions of years apart, though they have
left marks and vestiges that the eye can discern as easily as if they
had been the work of yesterday. No observant person can ride twenty
miles through the country, especially in a hilly region, without having
the fundamental facts of geology continually before him, and all that
he needs in order to comprehend these things is a little preparatory
reading, accompanied and followed by intelligent thought and
observation. Anybody to whom all rocks look alike, and all hills the
same, needs a little awakening of the mind. He is one of the persons
had in view when this series was conceived and written, and he has no
occasion to feel in the slightest degree offended by such a statement,
for the simple fact that probably ninety-nine one-hundredths of his
fellow citizens, and they among the best in the community, are just
as unfamiliar with the plainest facts of geology as he is. Geology is
not a difficult science to master in its main outlines, and there are
few more fascinating when once its drift is caught. Even the beginner
in the reading of the volume on geology, by seizing such chances of
observation as every ride or walk affords, may in a very short time
acquire the ability to read the history of a landscape from its face,
to recognize the work of the glaciers in the great Age of Ice, to
see where ancient streams flowed, or where molten rock has gushed up
through the surface layers of the earth's crust, and even to recognize
on sight some of the fossils, which are under everybody's feet in some
parts of the country, and which still retain the forms of animals some
of which were among the primal inhabitants of the earth, whose lines
have died out, while others, though their individual lives expired tens
or hundreds of millions of years ago, bear in their fossilized forms a
close resemblance to modern relatives and descendants whose generations
still flourish in the living world in this twentieth century of man's
latest historic era.
Presently, turning from the attractions of the outdoor world, which
seem just as entrancing the hundredth time you look upon them as they
did the first time, particularly if you have cultivated the habit not
merely of noticing but of thinking and reading about them, you take
up the morning newspaper, in which most of your companions of the car
are already deeply buried, and amid the political news, the personal
gossip, the inevitable exploitation of the deeds of criminals, the
foreign intelligence, and the social gossip that falls under your eyes,
your attention is caught (this is an actual happening of not long ago)
by the headline: "John Daniel, the orang-utan, is dead." This sounds
odd. There has been no animal's obituary in the papers since Barnum
lost his biggest elephant, and bequeathed its skeleton to science. You
read further and find an interview with a professor about the human
relationships, or apparent relationships, of the anthropoid apes, of
whom "John Daniel" would probably have been the acknowledged king if
his relatives of the woods could have understood the regard in which
he was held by his white-skinned and clothes-wearing jailers. You
will probably cut out that paragraph and put it aside for further
consideration, remembering that there are at least three volumes in
your Popular Science set at home, that on zoölogy, that on geology,
and that on anthropology, in which there will be an abundance of
interesting and authoritative matter bearing on this most important
subject--for important you will consider it now that the death of a
kind of caricature of humanity in the zoölogical garden that had so
long amused the children as well as their elders with its humanlike
motions, habits, looks, and pranks, has suddenly brought the whole
question up among the news of the day, affording you a new light on
a matter which you had hitherto thought to belong exclusively to the
field of the professors of zoölogy and their students. Hereafter you
will disposed to take a broader view of all these things, and will be
in a better position to understand and enjoy the discussions of learned
scientists when they are interviewed by newspaper men on subjects of
this kind. The inquiring spirit of the time requires this concession
even if in your private opinion there is no real relationship between
men and apes. And, without regard to any such questions, you will find
the volume on anthropology immensely interesting and informing.
Finally, as your morning's trip comes to an end, your attention is
recalled from the natural to the mechanical sciences. You descend
from your car or train, to go to your office. Your now fully awakened
mind, alert to all the scientific relations of everything about you,
can no longer keep from dwelling upon the underlying meanings of this
marvelous display of realized human dreams. With the speed of the wind
you are carried deep under the city's pavements, inclosed in a little
flying parlor, in the midst of an artificial subterranean daylight,
far beyond the reach of the solar rays, emulating the self-luminous
creatures of the deep sea bottom; or you go shooting past the window of
third, fourth, and fifth stories, or even above the levels of roofs,
and you cannot but reflect and marvel that electricity does it all;
electricity, that strange imp with blue star eyes no bigger than pin
points, and a child's crown of little crinkling, piercing rays, which
seemed so amusing when you were at school in the old days of frictional
electric machines, when it was a great joke to give the cat a shock
and see her flee with a squall, her hair standing on end in spite
of herself. But now electricity has become a giant of unrivaled and
terrific power, spurning the heavy-limbed Brobdingnag, steam, from its
swift path, and fast making the world all its own--except its master,
man, who is still, however, half afraid of his new and all-capable
servant.
[Illustration: EXHIBITION OF COPIES OF PREHISTORIC PAINTINGS FROM THE
CAVERNS AT ALTAMIRA, SPAIN]
[Illustration:
Painting by Chas. R. Knight. Photo, American Museum of Natural History
THE SABER-TOOTHED TIGER THAT ROAMED OVER NORTH AMERICA IN PREHISTORIC
TIMES]
This modern genie of limitless power, conjured out of his deceptive
bottle, can do the smallest as well as the greatest things for you.
When, upon reaching your office, you telephone to your wife that Mr.
Blank will be home to dinner with you, you cannot form the slightest
idea of how the miracle of distant speech is accomplished unless you
are either an electrician yourself, or have read intelligently upon the
subject of the applications of electricity to the motivation of all
kinds of machinery, a subject to which an entire volume is devoted in
our series. It would be a kind of shame and reproach to an intelligent
man to be ignorant of the way his telephone works, and of the simple
scientific principle on which it is constructed. If telephones, and
such things, were products of nature and grew on trees, we might be
excusable for not knowing exactly their secret; but being made by men,
with the same limitations as those that circumscribe us all, we ought
at least to understand them.
Thus, by a simple review of the series of common happenings that arrive
every day to everybody, we perceive how intimately and indissolubly
the various branches of science treated of in this compact library of
science, are linked with all that we do, including our most unconscious
acts and our most habitual subjects of thought. We have taken for
illustration the morning history of a person supposed to live amid
urban or suburban surroundings. Equally illuminating would be that
of an inhabitant of a village or a rural district, and even more
suggestive in many respects. The dweller in the country is brought
into closer association with the infinitely changing aspects of nature
than the city dweller enjoys. The simplest incident in the life of a
person living on a farm may be the beginning of a thread of connection
leading, like the clue of a labyrinth, into the heart of some of the
most marvelous departments of science, and resulting in a mental
revolution for the fortunate person who follows out the clue under
such guidance as these volumes afford. The writer has remembered from
boyhood the indelible impression made upon his mind by the finding of
an Indian arrowhead in a recently ploughed field. The shapeliness of
the beautifully chipped piece of flint, almost as translucent at the
edges as horn, the delicate tapering point which, as if by miracle,
had remained unbroken probably since colonial times, the two curious
little "ears" carefully formed on each side of the flat triangular base
to facilitate attachment to the head of the arrow, and the thought,
suggested by older persons, that this weapon might actually have
been used in some midnight attack on a white settlement, made more
terrifying by the frightful Mohawk war whoop and the display of the
reeking scalps of human victims in the glare of burning stockade and
cabins--all these things bred a keen desire to learn the particulars
of the history of the red warriors of the Five Nations, the "Romans of
the New World," and also to know something about the life and customs
of this strange, savage race of mankind which continued to live in an
"age of stone" on a continent that had never known civilization. No
volume like that on the history and development of man in this series
existed at that time; but if such a book had existed and had fallen
into the hands of the finder of the arrowhead, it would surely have
fascinated him more than "Robinson Crusoe" did, because a boy can
distinguish as readily as a grown person the superior interest of the
true over the pretended, provided that the true possesses the real
elements of romance.
So, too, the writer remembers having an interest in mineralogy awakened
in his mind, never to be obliterated, by the sight of another plowed
field, in the southern skirts of the Adirondack Mountains, whose
freshly turned furrows glittered in the sunshine with thickly scattered
quartz crystals, some of the larger and more perfect of which blazed
across, the whole breadth of the field, like huge diamonds, and made
the heart of the finder beat with an excitement akin to that of the
discoverer of a Koh-i-noor. There were also some very curious "stone
buttons" which one could break out with a hammer from slate rocks
along the Schoharie Creek, and which, when cracked open, were found
to be composed of pyrites that resembled pure silver--and sometimes
gold--freshly broken. Now, things of this sort are always attracting
the attention and awakening the curiosity of children living in the
country, but the real pleasure and instruction that they might afford
are usually missed because of the lack in the family library of
popularly written books on the natural sciences--a lack that we are
trying to supply.
For city children and their elders, whose eyes are constantly greeted,
not by hills, creeks, ponds, rivers, woods, and fields, but by
sky-aspiring buildings, railroads elevated on stilts, multiple-decked
suspension bridges, electric power houses, tunnels that form a
second city underground, and the thousand marvels and splendors of
electric illumination at night, the volumes on physics, mechanics,
and electricity and magnetism have a more immediate interest and
value. What the children learn about these things in school is far
from sufficient to satisfy their curiosity. They need books at home to
guide their inquiries as well as to answer them. Only by that means can
the diffusion of scientific knowledge, and the popularization of the
scientific method of getting at the truth and the meaning of things
be thoroughly effected. Science, as its history plainly demonstrates,
progresses most rapidly only when a great number of minds have been
led to concentrate their powers upon its problems. Great genius, it is
true, rides over obstacles; yet consider how much further its energies
might have carried it if the obstacles had been more or less completely
removed in advance. Many a young man has been led to a brilliant
career, to the great advantage of his country and his time, as a result
of the interest awakened in him by the clear statements of a popularly
written book on some branch of science.
One of the difficulties that persons unfamiliar with certain branches
of science encounter in reading about them arises from the excessive
use of technical terms, the lack of simple illustrative examples, and
also, sometimes, a lack of sympathetic appreciation of the reader's
difficulties. It has been a special object of this series to avoid this
trouble. Ordinary textbooks are prepared for students in school and are
intended to be supplemented by the personal instruction and guidance of
a teacher, standing at the pupil's elbow, or readily approachable. But
the reader who wishes to inform himself upon some progressive branch
of science after his school days are over needs to have the teacher
included in the book itself.
Then, too, there are many persons who have no comprehension of the
great and gratifying power that a knowledge of some of the elementary
principles and formulas of science bestows upon anybody who may take
the little trouble necessary to master them, a trouble that does not
imply a long course of scientific study. The "man in the street," if he
possesses these easy-working keys to knowledge, can verify for himself
some of the calculations of scientists which, if he did not know how
they were done, would always remain for him in the category of the
mysterious achievements of genius.
To illustrate, let us take a simple example--that of the Newtonian law
of falling bodies. Many persons would assume on the face of it that
there was nothing in this law that could have a particular interest
for them. But let us see. You will find in the volume on physics that
the law is stated thus: S = ½gt², i. e., "S equals one-half of the
product of g multiplied by t squared." As you look at it you would,
perhaps, as soon think of picking up a complicated tool and trying
to use it for some ordinary purpose. Nevertheless, let us try. "S"
in the formula means the space or distance traversed by the falling
body, "g" means the velocity that the force of gravity imparts in each
successive second to the body, and "t" means the time elapsed during
the fall. What the formula tells us, then, is that if we observe the
time during which the body is falling, and then square the number of
seconds involved (multiply the number by itself), multiply this square
by "g," which is represented practically everywhere on the face of the
earth by the number 32, and finally divide the whole by 2, we shall
have the distance that the body fell. This distance will be in feet,
since the number 32, representing "g," is in feet. Now, it might be a
matter of life and death, or at any rate of mental discomfort against
quietude of mind, to have that rule in memory and to be able to apply
it. For instance, you are on your vacation and stopping in a strange
hotel, where they have put you in the top story. On looking out of the
window you are dismayed at finding no fire escape, or other appliance
of safety, so that your only resource in case of fire would be to make
a rope out of the bedclothes and let yourself down with it. But, how
far is it to the ground? How long should the rope be? Are there sheets
enough on your bed to furnish it? The little formula about falling
bodies will answer the question for you in five minutes. First, you let
some small solid object drop from the window, and note by your watch,
or by counting seconds, which everybody ought to teach himself to do,
how long it takes to reach the ground. You repeat the experiment two or
three times to make sure. Say the time comes out three seconds. Very
well, now apply the rule: The square of 3 is 9, and 9 multiplied by 32
gives 288, and dividing by 2 you have 144 feet for the height! It is to
be feared that your bedclothes rope would not be long enough; you had
better send to the office for something to supplement it. But if the
time of fall should be only 2 seconds, which is more likely, except in
skyscraper hotels, then the calculation would give you 64 feet for the
height, which you might manage with the aid of the bedclothes.
[Illustration: MODELS OF GUTENBERG'S PRINTING PRESSES
The models show three stages of development, the first of them at the
right]
[Illustration: BENJAMIN FRANKLIN'S PRINTING PRESS
The original is now in the National Museum at Washington]
This is only a single example among many that could be given to show
the usefulness and interest of many of the formulas of science which
the ordinary reader looks upon as beyond the reach of any person
whose occupation leads him another way. But cases of equal simplicity
could be found in connection with the subjects of electricity and
magnetism, chemistry, medicine, physiology, etc. Sometimes it happens
that a technical word contains its own definition and explanation in
a nutshell. A striking instance of this will be found in astronomy,
in the word "light-year." The meaning of this word stands forth on
its face--it evidently expresses the distance that light travels in
the course of one year. Now, since it is known by means of direct
measurement that light goes at the rate of 186,300 miles per second,
manifestly a light-year must be equivalent to an enormous number
of miles. In fact that number, roundly stated, is no less than
5,860,000,000,000. But to what marvelous regions of thought such a term
opens the way! Yonder star is 2,000 light-years distant from the earth;
then its light-waves now entering your eyes left it when Julius Cæsar
was conquering Gaul, and have been speeding on their way to the earth
ever since! Another star is found to be 5,000 light-years distant; then
the light by which you now see it started from the star when Abraham
set out from Ur of the Chaldees to settle in the Holy Land, and has
not found a resting place anywhere in boundless space until just now
when its tiny waves break and expire on the retina of your eye! Such
treasures of knowledge and tonics to thought are scattered all through
the volumes of this set, the purpose of whose publishers, editors,
and writers has been to accumulate such things in small compass and
in crystal clearness, for the use not only of those who, after their
school days are over, still wish to keep abreast of the progress of
science in all its branches--as everyone should strive to do in this
most scientific of all ages--but also for those who have hitherto not
had the time, or the opportunity, or perhaps even the desire, to make
themselves at home in the house of science.
It may be well to add a few words on the interrelation of the different
subjects treated in the various volumes of the series. This will
suggest to the reader himself the best order in which to take up the
reading of the books. Naturally he will desire to obtain both a clear
general view of the whole field of science, and also more detailed
acquaintance with its special parts, the amount of detail depending
upon his particular interest in a subject. For the first purpose the
preferable way would be to run first over the brief account that
follows in this volume, of the history and development of science
in general, and then to take up the simpler and more easily grasped
branches.
But it should be firmly kept in mind that, fundamentally, science is
one, having in all its branches but one aim and object, viz., the
ascertainment and demonstration of the exact truth of things as far
as human capacities are able to reveal and comprehend such truth,
and also but one method of procedure, which is the method of common
sense trained to the utmost attainable exactitude in observation and
the greatest possible clearness and precision of reasoning. Science
properly so-called confines itself to things that are subject to
observation by the senses and to verification by repeated observation
and experiment, while its reasonings and predictions are based entirely
upon the unvarying sequence of the phenomena of nature, as they display
themselves before us.
Science is just as one and inseparable as life, or as an organic being,
and its divisions no more imply lack of unity than do the various
organs and limbs of an animal, or a tree, or the different structural
parts of a building. Astronomy is not entirely independent of geology,
nor geology of botany, nor botany of chemistry, nor any of these of
physics, nor physics of electricity and magnetism, nor the last of
physiology and medicine. Accordingly the question where to begin in
studying science is not one that can be answered in the same way for
everybody. But the spirit is the same in all the branches.
Perhaps the best general indication of the order in which a person who
has no predilection for any one branch of science should take up the
various parts is afforded by their historic development. This was a
result of the natural reaction of man's mind to its surroundings. The
things nearest to him, and most immediately important, first attracted
his attention. The broadest division would be into the science of
things on the earth's surface; the science of things above the earth,
in the air and the sky; and the science of things within the earth,
concealed from immediate view.
If we take these in their order they naturally subdivide themselves as
follows:
1--THINGS ON THE EARTH--EXPLAINED BY
(a) Anthropology, the Science of Man and His Ancestors, treating of
his nature, origin, development, division into races and tribes,
society, industry, etc.
(b) Zoölogy, the Science of Animal Life, treating of the "lower
animals," and of animal life in general as distinguished from the
kingdom of the plants, although the related science of biology
deals with both plants and animals, its special subject being the
phenomena of life in its widest sense.
(c) Botany, the Science of Plant Life.
(d) Geography, combined with Physiography, the Science of the Face,
or Superficies, of the Earth, dealing with lands and seas, rivers
and mountains, political divisions, etc. This is covered in our
series by the volume on Physiography.
(e) In this compartment several branches of science may be grouped,
since they are all the product of study of things encountered on
the earth's surface. They are:
_Physics_, the Science of the Forces of Nature, dealing with the laws
of the inanimate world around us, including the phenomena relating to
solid, liquid, and gaseous bodies and substances.
_Chemistry_, the Science of Matter and Its Changes, dealing with the
atoms and their constituents, and with the combinations of atoms into
molecules to form the various chemical elements, etc.
_Electricity_ and _Magnetism_, the Science of Power, fundamentally
underlying all other branches, and through its investigation of the
nature of the constituents of atoms--the electrons--going deeper into
the constitution of things than chemistry itself. In fact this science,
in some respects, blends with chemistry, although it is quite separate
when it deals with the mechanical developments of electromagnetism.
_Medicine_, the Science of Health, _Physiology_, the Science of the
Body, _Psychology_, the Science of Human Behavior, _Mechanics_, the
Science of Machinery, etc., also naturally fall into this category of
Things on the Earth.
2--THINGS ABOVE THE EARTH--EXPLAINED BY
(a) Astronomy, the Science of the Heavenly Bodies.
(b) Meteorology, the Science of the Atmosphere, rains, winds,
storms, fair and foul weather, the changes of the seasons, and
essentially related to the new and fast developing art of aerial
navigation.
3--THINGS WITHIN THE EARTH--EXPLAINED BY
(a) Geology, the Science of the Earth's Crust, or shell; which also
deals with the various stratifications of the rocks, superposed
one above another, and containing in the shape of fossils, and
other marks, a wonderful record of the character and development
of the living forms that have inhabited the earth during the long
ages of the past. Of course some of the phenomena dealt with by
geology are manifest on the earth's surface, and others, like
volcanoes and earthquakes, hot springs and geysers, are partly
subterranean and concealed from sight and partly evident by their
effects on the surface.
(b) Closely associated with Geology are Mineralogy, the Science
of the Constitution and Structure of Rocks and of Mineral and
Metallic substances; Vulcanology, the Science of Volcanoes, and
of earth disturbances in general; and the Science of Mining,
which has several branches, and forms the basis of enormous
industrial developments.
It is manifest, as before said, that the reader must be his own best
judge as to the precise order in which to take up the perusal of
the volumes in which this immense mass of scientific knowledge is
presented. But, where there is no predisposition to choose one subject
rather than another, or where there is a desire to follow, as nearly as
may be, the natural line of development of human knowledge, it would
be well to take first, after the history, the volume on astronomy, a
science that from the beginning has had a peculiar power to awaken
intellectual curiosity; then that on anthropology; then the various
so-called "natural history" subjects, leaving the mechanical and the
more technical subjects for the last.
Or, the reader might first take up the subjects of personal importance
to every human being--Medicine, the Science of Health; Physiology, the
Science of the Human Body; Psychology, the Science of the Mind--every
one of which is essential to the proper care and preservation of life;
and afterward study the other branches in the order already suggested.
[Illustration: ~Garrett P. Serviss~]
CHAPTER I
HISTORY OF SCIENCE
The romantic history of science shows how the discoveries of the
greatest human minds, slowly operating since the remotest times, have
made possible our present-day civilization. Few studies are worthy of
greater attention; no other department of knowledge affords more real
pleasure. Whoever clearly understands the history of science possesses
intellectual advantages over those who are ignorant of the causes
that have led to the establishment of the basic principles of our
modern industrial arts and applied sciences. Standards of comparison
are furnished by the history of science which illuminate many of the
wonders of to-day, develop alertness of mind, and afford a never-ending
train of suggestions for thought.
The term science means knowledge. It was derived from the language
of the Romans. It is well to have a clear idea of the meaning of the
word. Everyone knows that it has to do with certain kinds of knowledge;
few know the particular kinds it embraces. It does not mean the mere
knowledge of a single fact. It does not mean a knowledge of something
which has to be done. Long before science was born, our early ancestors
observed many isolated physical, philosophical, and religious facts.
They knew that day followed night, that the stars moved, that every day
the sun progressed over the arch of the heavens. Such facts did not
constitute science.
What we know as science began when man commenced to compare one fact
with another, to classify phenomena, and to arrange his knowledge
systematically. Order, method, system, are basic principles of science.
The best description would, therefore, appear to be systematized
knowledge of any kind which had been gained and verified by exact
observation and correct thinking. The whole field of human knowledge is
now methodically formulated and arranged into rational systems. Modern
science may, therefore, be said to embrace all our exact knowledge. Its
province is enormous; its subdivisions are limitless.
Science takes no account of knowledge which is not exact. Many people
acquire valuable information which they profitably use in business, but
which they are unable to communicate or describe to others because they
do not actually understand it.
Farmers and flower growers often possess important practical knowledge
of facts which are embraced by the principles of the sciences of
agriculture, botany, and biology. But their practical knowledge is
not true science. It is rather like an artist's intuitive impulse. It
is not the result of scientific analysis, and there is no tangible,
communicable residuum.
There could be no science if men did not discover principles of
knowledge which can be communicated to, and made available for use
by others. Scientific knowledge must be stripped of all traces of
emotionalism and personal convictions. True science is, therefore,
depersonalized knowledge.
The history of science shows how our exact knowledge has been developed
along irregular paths but with progressive advances. There have been
long periods during which little apparent progress was accomplished,
which have been succeeded by others made memorable by brilliant
discoveries.
We must constantly bear in mind that many of the truths generally
accepted to-day were doubtful or novel theories at some previous
period. The history of science shows the enormous mental effort
expended in testing and developing what now appear to us as commonplace
truths.
Basic principles like those of algebra, geometry, and the planetary
motions were tested during several thousand years before they were
finally accepted as true.
The human intellect at the dawn of history was similar to what it is
to-day. But it was not exercised as we exercise ours because it did
not have adequate materials and opportunities. For the same reason
science made slower progress in early times than it does now. Progress
is cumulative. Each advance helps that which follows. The functions of
a scientist are to struggle against individual views, and to provide an
explanation of phenomena which may be accepted as true by other minds.
Ascertained facts must be classified and then sequence and significance
recognized from an unbiased viewpoint.
The history of science is the written record of countless experiments,
theories, and experiences of mankind which have been submitted to the
tests of scientific methods.
While it is true that science embraces all knowledge its real scope is
limited to knowledge which is reducible to laws and can be embodied in
systems. The human mind unites all knowledge by a single thread, but
we have to chart and map it into larger and smaller divisions which we
define by the methods, basic concepts, and plans used in developing
them.
We may now see how it is that the boundaries of any science are
merely approximate. The general grouping of the sciences is likewise
approximate. The first large group includes the abstract, or formal,
sciences such as mathematics and logic. The other great group comprises
the concrete sciences dealing with phenomena as contrasted with formal
relationships. Chemistry, biology, physics, psychology, and sociology
belong to the concrete group.
At the beginning of history man is discovered observing the great
phenomena of Nature and struggling to learn their laws and to explain
them. Religion is both emotional and intellectual, and through these
qualities it attracted primitive man while he was attempting to gather
light on the riddles of the world. It was through religion that science
was born.
Recent researches into primitive beliefs have shown in a surprising
manner the psychological unity of man. In all parts of the world, in
all periods of history, and under all conditions, the minds of men, in
their natural reactions against the basic factors of existence, operate
in similar ways. There is a remarkable resemblance in the mental
processes of men. The laws of thought appear to work automatically
in all men. The minds of prehistoric people worked like those of men
to-day. The impressions of the senses appear to be interpreted in
similar ways by all peoples. Here is the explanation of the numerous
resemblances we find in national histories, national folk lore, and
national religions. They differ much in innumerable details, but
possess many resemblances in their great fundamental conceptions.
Normal man has always been religious. Mankind has always assumed
definite attitudes toward the universe and this has resulted in the
universality of religion.
Early men the world over appear to have been as eager to learn the keys
to the riddles of the universe as was the boy Longfellow sang about in
the following stanzas:
Nature, the old nurse, took
The child upon her knee,
Saying: "Here is a story-book
Thy Father has written for thee."
"Come wander with me," she said,
"Into regions yet untrod;
And read what is still unread
In the manuscripts of God."
And he wandered away and away
With Nature, the dear old nurse,
Who sang to him night and day
The rhymes of the universe.
And whenever the way seemed long,
Or his heart began to fail,
She would sing a more wonderful song,
Or tell a more marvelous tale.
Modern science has developed from this instinctive human desire to read
Nature's story-book and understand her marvelous tales.
Early struggles of mankind taught that human behavior must be regulated
in accordance with rigid moral laws. This promoted the primitive social
processes which were early concerned with religious beliefs as well
as with magic and medicine. Two of the earliest beliefs universally
accepted were that we possess souls and that our personality persists
after death. These basic principles of faith have caused extremely
beneficial results to follow in the development of knowledge.
Some of the American Indians and other primitive peoples of to-day
still live in the belief that the heavenly bodies, the sky, sea, and
earth, as well as plants, animals, and men, all belong to a vast
system of all-conscious and interrelated life, in which the degrees of
relationship are distinguished by the degrees of resemblance.
Religious beliefs were developed from struggles to conceive the
inconceivable and discover the infinite. Religions led to studies of
mysteries and ceremonies and rites. Magic developed and this also
had its customs, dogmas, and rites. The difference between magic and
religion was that the magician was consulted by his personal friends,
whereas the holders of religious beliefs had a common bond uniting
them in one strict form of worship. Magic was not systematized, while
religion was a unified system of beliefs and practices relative to
sacred things, and chiefly to the regulation of moral concepts and
conduct.
The intimate association of religion, magic, necromancy, and science
continued until the early Greek era. There were many temples erected
in Greece and dedicated to Æsculapius, the god of medicine. Cures were
believed to be effected through the valuable offerings made to the god
by patients and their friends. It was thought that the ways to health
would be indicated to them by the god through dreams.
Recent investigations of the representative ceremonial rites of the
aboriginal peoples of Australasia and of North and South America
have yielded a remarkably rich fund of information on the causes and
conditions which operated in prehistoric eras in developing the mental,
moral, and physical sciences.
Some of the most romantic stories ever developed by the human intellect
are to be found in recent scientific works dealing with the history and
principles of the tribal customs, ceremonies, and religious rites of
primitive peoples. The early chapters in the history of man's mental
development and the evolution of science from distant origins in mystic
forces, through magic and necromancy to religion and philosophy, must
give abundant pleasure to all thoughtful persons by showing how it
came that the high state of civilization now attained was brought
about by slow processes, operating through immense periods of time and
blossoming only during the past two or three thousand years. A study
of these stories cannot fail to show how intimately science has been
associated with religion, why every normal individual is essentially
religious, and why the continuation of our civilization, and the
very existence of the human race, are absolutely contingent upon the
recognition of the moral laws, in the future as in the past. The
history of science establishes the fact that moral sanctions, which
require religious ceremonies to keep them vital, are the essential
bases of human progress.