The First Days of Man / As Narrated Quite Simply for Young Readers
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
The Author desires to express his thanks to Dr. William K. Gregory, of the American Museum of Natural History, as well as to the other Museum authorities, for their courtesy and assistance in the matter of illustrations, and in the preparation of the text. The book does not pretend, of course, to be a strictly scientific work. Many liberties have been taken, in order to render the subject interesting to the youthful mind. Man's early inventions did not come about so simply as is pictured in the various chapters. But the development of civilisation is a romance, and only by so treating it can we hope to enlist the interest of the young reader. It is sufficient that the story rests upon a foundation of fact.
PREFACE FOR PARENTS
Every child, between the ages of five and fifteen, seeks by constant questioning to grasp the fundamental facts upon which our whole fabric of present-day knowledge is based. These facts, painfully gathered by the human race during its many centuries of development, must of necessity be absorbed by the child within the short space of some ten or twelve years. It is a prodigious task, and one in which the growing mind should be afforded every possible assistance. Two courses are usually adopted by parents; one, to dismiss the child's questions with the stock phrase, "You are not old enough to understand," the other, to place in his hands some so-called book of knowledge, containing, it is true, a great mass of information which the child should possess, but usually so badly presented, so jumbled together, that no one fact has any bearing on another, and thus the child is left to turn from "Why the ocean is salt?" to "What is a lightning rod?" without the least understanding of the principles and laws which underly these and all other facts, and link them together in a composite whole.
The writer has followed, with his own children, a method of presenting the steps in the gradual development of man which has produced most gratifying results. Instead of treating each fact, each laboriously accumulated bit of human knowledge, as a mere isolated patch in a crazy-quilt of information, he has attempted to arrange them in logical sequence, to form an interesting pattern, so that as the child's fund of knowledge increases, he feels a deeper and deeper interest in fitting each newly acquired fact into its proper place in his mental picture of things.
The result is that the child is constantly building a structure which he understands. His mass of accumulated knowledge is not heaped together hap-hazard, like a pile of blocks, but each occupies its proper and logical place in a slowly developing whole. He derives pleasure from what would otherwise be hard work, just as he would derive pleasure from fitting together the pieces of a puzzle picture; he finds himself progressing toward some understandable end, and without knowing it, he has not only gathered his facts, and catalogued them, but he has begun to think about them, and their relation to each other, in short, he has begun the process of logical thought, which is the first and greatest step in all education.
In this process of storing away in his brain the accumulated knowledge of the ages, the child's mind passes, with inconceivable rapidity, along the same route that the composite minds of his ancestors travelled, during their centuries of development. The impulse that causes him to want to hunt, to fish, to build brush huts, to camp out in the woods, to use his hands as well as his brain, is an inheritance from the past, when his primitive ancestors did these things. He should be helped to trace the route they followed with intelligence and understanding, he should be encouraged to know the woods and all the great world of out of doors, to make and use the primitive weapons, utensils, toys, his ancestors made and used, to come into closer contact with the fundamental laws of nature, and thus to lay a groundwork for wholesome and practical thinking which cannot be gained in the classroom, or the city streets.
As has been said, the writer has tested the methods outlined above. The chapters in "The Earth's Story" are merely the things he has told his own children. It is of interest to note that one of these, a boy of seven, on first going to school, easily outstripped in a single month a dozen or more children who had been at school almost a year, and was able to enter a grade a full year ahead of them. The child in question is not in the least precocious, but having understood the knowledge he has gained, he is able to make use of it, he has a definite mental perspective, a sure grasp on things, which makes study of any kind easy for him, and progression correspondingly rapid.
Too much emphasis cannot be laid upon the fact that methods of thinking are more important, than the particular things we think about. Right thinking is the cornerstone of all mental development. In the writer's opinion it is the great lack in modern education.
Catonsville, Maryland.
CHAPTER I
HOW MOTHER NATURE MADE THE EARTH READY FOR MAN
In the beginning, millions of years ago, before there were any men, or animals, or trees, or flowers, the Earth was just a great round ball of fire, bright and dazzling, like the Sun.
Instead of being solid, as it is now, it was a huge cloud of white-hot gases, whirling through space.
We all know how solids can be turned into liquids, and liquids into gases, by Heat, for we have only to heat a solid piece of ice to turn it into a liquid, water, and if we keep on heating the water, it will turn into a gas, which we call steam. It was the same way with all the solid things on the Earth; Heat had turned them all to gases, like steam.
Then God called Mother Nature to Him and told her to get the Earth ready for Man to live on.
So Mother Nature sent Heat away to melt up some other worlds, and called for his brother, Cold. And Cold came rushing up, his great white wings glittering with frost.
"What can I do for you, Mother Nature?" he asked.
"Blow on the Earth with all your might, Cold," said Mother Nature, "and get it ready for Man to live on." Then she flew away, and as she went she took a piece of the Earth-cloud and rolled it into a ball, and set it spinning in space about the Earth, so that it might cool down later and be the Moon.
When Mother Nature had gone, Cold, who was the spirit of the great outer darkness in which the Sun and Stars move, hovered about the Earth and blew on it with all his might, and as his icy breath swept over the fiery Earth, the hot gases began to get cooler and cooler, and at last they turned back to liquids again. And after that, they got cooler still and began to turn to solids, just as hot melted taffy gets hard and solid when it cools.
It took Cold a very long time to cool the Earth, millions of years, but he did not mind, for he had nothing else to do. So he blew and blew, and after a while a hard solid crust began to form all over the Earth, very rough and uneven, with high hills and mountains sticking up here and there, and between them great wide valleys and plains, all of solid rock.
When Mother Nature came back to look at the Earth, Cold asked her how she liked it.
"You have done very well, Cold," she said, "but it isn't fit for Man to live on yet, for it is too hot, and there isn't any water. Blow some more, and make Rain."
So Cold blew again, on the great white clouds of steam that came rolling up from the hot Earth, and his icy breath cooled the steam and turned it into Rain, just as the steam from a teakettle will turn to little drops of water if you cool it suddenly. And the Rain fell back on the Earth, year after year, until at last it filled up the great wide plains and valleys between the hills and turned them into rivers, and lakes and oceans. But they were boiling hot.
"How do you like it now, Mother Nature?" asked Cold.
"It still isn't fit for anything to live on," said Mother Nature. "You must cool it some more. And tell Rain to make some earth for things to grow in. They can't grow in solid rock."
So Cold blew again, harder than ever, and as the cool Rain fell he said:
"Rain, will you please make some earth for things to grow in?"
"Very well," said Rain. "I will."
So Rain fell for days and months and years on the hot rocks, and cracked and softened them, and each little raindrop as it rushed down the sides of the mountains, carried a bit of soft, crumbling rock down into the