vast laboratories where
silent men do battle upon the hidden enemies of mankind and often
sacrifice their lives that coming generations may enjoy greater
happiness and health.

Indeed it has come to pass that many of the ills of this world, which
our ancestors regarded as inevitable "acts of God," have been exposed
as manifestations of our own ignorance and neglect. Every child nowadays
knows that he can keep from getting typhoid fever by a little care in
the choice of his drinking water. But it took years and years of hard
work before the doctors could convince the people of this fact. Few of
us now fear the dentist chair. A study of the microbes that live in our
mouth has made it possible to keep our teeth from decay. Must perchance
a tooth be pulled, then we take a sniff of gas, and go our way
rejoicing. When the newspapers of the year 1846 brought the story of the
"painless operation" which had been performed in America with the help
of ether, the good people of Europe shook their heads. To them it seemed
against the will of God that man should escape the pain which was the
share of all mortals, and it took a long time before the practice of
taking ether and chloroform for operations became general.

But the battle of progress had been won. The breach in the old walls
of prejudice was growing larger and larger, and as time went by, the
ancient stones of ignorance came crumbling down. The eager crusaders
of a new and happier social order rushed forward. Suddenly they found
themselves facing a new obstacle. Out of the ruins of a long-gone past,
another citadel of reaction had been erected, and millions of men had to
give their lives before this last bulwark was destroyed.

ART

A CHAPTER OF ART

WHEN a baby is perfectly healthy and has had enough to eat and has slept
all it wants, then it hums a little tune to show how happy it is. To
grown-ups this humming means nothing. It sounds like "goo-zum, goo-zum,
goo-o-o-o-o," but to the baby it is perfect music. It is his first
contribution to art.

As soon as he (or she) gets a little older and is able to sit up, the
period of mud-pie making begins. These mud-pies do not interest the
outside world. There are too many million babies, making too many
million mud-pies at the same time. But to the small infant they
represent another expedition into the pleasant realm of art. The baby is
now a sculptor.

At the age of three or four, when the hands begin to obey