beyond the stage of the earliest cave men?”
There is but one answer.
That answer is “Yes!”
The World War was a terrible calamity. But it did not mean the end of things. On the contrary it brought about the coming of a new day.
It is easy to write a history of Greece and Rome or the Middle Ages. The actors who played their parts upon that long-forgotten stage are all dead. We can criticize them with a cool head. The audience that applauded their efforts has dispersed. Our remarks cannot possibly hurt their feelings.
But it is very difficult to give a true account of contemporary events. The problems that fill the minds of the people with whom we pass through life, are our own problems, and they hurt us too much or they please us too well to be described with that fairness which is necessary when we are writing history and not blowing the trumpet of propaganda. All the same I shall endeavour to tell you why I agree with poor Condorcet when he expressed his firm faith in a better future.
Often before have I warned you against the false impression which is created by the use of our so-called historical epochs which divide the story of man into four parts, the ancient world, the Middle Ages, the Renaissance and the Reformation, and Modern Time. The last of these terms is the most dangerous. The word “modern” implies that we, the people of the twentieth century, are at the top of human achievement. Fifty years ago the liberals of England who followed the leadership of Gladstone felt that the problem of a truly representative and democratic form of government had been solved forever by the second great Reform Bill, which gave workmen an equal share in the government with their employers. When Disraeli and his conservative friends talked of a dangerous “leap in the dark” they answered “No.” They felt certain of their cause and trusted that henceforth all classes of society would co-operate to make the government of their common country a success. Since then many things have happened, and the few liberals who are still alive begin to understand that they were mistaken.
There is no definite answer to any historical problem.
Every generation must fight the good fight anew or perish as those sluggish animals of the prehistoric world have perished.
If you once get hold of this great truth you will get a new and much broader view of life. Then, go one step further and try to imagine yourself in the position of your own great- great-grandchildren who will take your place in the year 10,000. They too will learn history. But what will they think of those short four thousand years during which we have kept a written record of our actions and of our thoughts? They will think of Napoleon as a contemporary of Tiglath Pileser, the Assyrian conqueror. Perhaps they will confuse him with Jenghiz Khan or Alexander the Macedonian. The great war which has just come to an end will appear in the light of that long commercial conflict which settled the supremacy of the Mediterranean when Rome and Carthage fought during one hundred and twenty-eight years for the mastery of the sea. The Balkan troubles of the 19th century (the struggle for freedom of Serbia and Greece and Bulgaria and Montenegro) to them will seem a continuation of the disordered conditions caused by the Great Migrations. They will look at pictures of the Rheims cathedral which only yesterday was destroyed by German guns as we look upon a photograph of the Acropolis ruined two hundred and fifty years ago during a war between the Turks and the Venetians. They will regard the fear of death, which is still common among many people, as a childish superstition which was perhaps natural in a race of men who had burned witches as late as the year 1692. Even our hospitals and our laboratories and our operating rooms of which we are so proud will look like slightly improved workshops of alchemists and mediaeval surgeons.
And the reason for all this is simple. We modern men and women are not “modern” at all. On the contrary we still belong to the last generations of the cave-dwellers. The foundation for a new era was laid but yesterday. The human race was given its first chance to become truly civilised when it took courage to question all things and made “knowledge and understanding” the foundation upon which to create a more reasonable and sensible society of human beings. The Great War was the “growing-pain” of this new world.
For a long time to come people will write mighty books to prove that this or that or the other person brought about the war. The Socialists will publish volumes in which they will ac- cuse the “capitalists” of having brought about the war for “commercial gain.” The capitalists will answer that they lost infinitely more through the war than they made–that their children were among the first to go and fight and be killed–and they will show how in every country the bankers tried their very best to avert the outbreak of hostilities. French historians will go through the register of German sins from the days of Charlemagne until the days of William of Hohenzollern and German historians will return the compliment and will go through the list of French horrors from the days of Charlemagne until the days of President Poincare. And then they will establish to their own satisfaction that the other fellow was guilty of “causing the war.” Statesmen, dead and not yet dead, in all countries will take to their typewriters and they will explain how they tried to avert hostilities and how their wicked opponents forced them into it.
The historian, a hundred years hence, will not bother about these apologies and vindications. He will understand the real nature of the underlying causes and he will know that personal ambitions and personal wickedness and personal greed had very little to do with the final outburst. The original mistake, which was responsible for all this misery, was committed when our scientists began to create a new world of steel and iron and chemistry and electricity and forgot that the human mind is slower than the proverbial turtle, is lazier than the well-known sloth, and marches from one hundred to three hundred years behind the small group of courageous leaders.
A Zulu in a frock coat is still a Zulu. A dog trained to ride a bicycle and smoke a pipe is still a dog. And a human being with the mind of a sixteenth century tradesman driving a 1921 Rolls-Royce is still a human being with the mind of a sixteenth century tradesman.
If you do not understand this at first, read it again. It will become clearer to you in a moment and it will explain many things that have happened these last six years.
Perhaps I may give you another, more familiar, example, to show you what I mean. In the movie theatres, jokes and funny remarks are often thrown upon the screen. Watch the audience the next time you have a chance. A few people seem almost to inhale the words. It takes them but a second to read the lines. Others are a bit slower. Still others take from twenty to thirty seconds. Finally those men and women who do not read any more than they can help, get the point when the brighter ones among the audience have already begun to decipher the next cut-in. It is not different in human life, as I shall now show you.
In a former chapter I have told you how the idea of the Roman Empire continued to live for a thousand years after the death of the last Roman Emperor. It caused the establishment of a large number of “imitation empires.” It gave the Bishops of Rome a chance to make themselves the head of the entire church, because they represented the idea of Roman world-supremacy. It drove a number of perfectly harmless barbarian chieftains into a career of crime and endless warfare because they were for ever under the spell of this magic word “Rome.” All these people, Popes, Emperors and plain fighting men were not very different from you or me. But they lived in a world where the Roman tradition was a vital issue something living–something which was remembered clearly both by the father and the son and the grandson. And so they struggled and sacrificed themselves for a cause which to-day would not find a dozen recruits.
In still another chapter I have told you how the great religious wars took place more than a century after the first open act of the Reformation and if you will compare the chapter on the Thirty Years War with that on Inventions, you will see that this ghastly butchery took place at a time when the first clumsy steam engines were already puffing in the laboratories of a number of French and German and English scientists. But the world at large took no interest in these strange contraptions, and went on with a grand theological discussion which to-day causes yawns, but no anger.
And so it goes. A thousand years from now, the historian will use the same words about Europe of the out-going nine- teenth century, and he will see how men were engaged upon terrific nationalistic struggles while the laboratories all around them were filled with serious folk who cared not one whit for politics as long as they could force nature to surrender a few more of her million secrets.
You will gradually begin to understand what I am driving at. The engineer and the scientist and the chemist, within a single generation, filled Europe and America and Asia with their vast machines, with their telegraphs, their flying machines, their coal-tar products. They created a new world in which time and space were reduced to complete insignificance. They invented new products and they made these so cheap that almost every one could buy them. I have told you all this before but it certainly will bear repeating.
To keep the ever increasing number of factories going, the owners, who had also become the rulers of the land, needed raw materials and coal. Especially coal. Meanwhile the mass of the people were still thinking in terms of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and clinging to the old notions of the state as a dynastic or political organisation. This clumsy mediaeval institution was then suddenly called upon to handle the highly modern problems of a mechanical and industrial world. It did its best, according to the rules of the game which had been laid down centuries before. The different states created enormous armies and gigantic navies which were used for the purpose of acquiring new possessions in distant lands. Whereever{sic} there was a tiny bit of land left, there arose an English or a French or a German or a Russian colony. If the natives objected, they were killed. In most cases they did not object, and were allowed to live peacefully, provided they did not interfere with the diamond mines or the coal mines or the oil mines or the gold mines or the rubber plantations, and they derived many benefits from the foreign occupation.
Sometimes it happened that two states in search of raw materials wanted the same piece of land at the same time. Then there was a war. This occurred fifteen years ago when Russia and Japan fought for the possession of certain terri- tories which belonged to the Chinese people. Such conflicts, however, were the exception. No one really desired to fight. Indeed, the idea of fighting with armies and battleships and submarines began to seem absurd to the men of the early 20th century. They associated the idea of violence with the long- ago age of unlimited monarchies and intriguing dynasties. Every day they read in their papers of still further inventions, of groups of English and American and German scientists who were working together in perfect friendship for the purpose of an advance in medicine or in astronomy. They lived in a busy world of trade and of commerce and factories. But only a few noticed that the development of the state, (of the gigantic community of people who recognise certain common ideals,) was lagging several hundred years behind. They tried to warn the others. But the others were occupied with their own affairs.
I have used so many similes that I must apologise for bringing in one more. The Ship of State (that old and trusted expression which is ever new and always picturesque,) of the Egyptians and the Greeks and the Romans and the Venetians and the merchant adventurers of the seventeenth century had been a sturdy craft, constructed of well-seasoned wood, and commanded by officers who knew both their crew and their vessel and who understood the limitations of the art of navigating which had been handed down to them by their ancestors.
Then came the new age of iron and steel and machinery. First one part, then another of the old ship of state was changed. Her dimensions were increased. The sails were discarded for steam. Better living quarters were established, but more people were forced to go down into the stoke-hole, and while the work was safe and fairly remunerative, they did not like it as well as their old and more dangerous job in the rigging. Finally, and almost imperceptibly, the old wooden square-rigger had been transformed into a modern ocean liner. But the captain and the mates remained the same. They were appointed or elected in the same way as a hundred years before. They were taught the same system of navigation which had served the mariners of the fifteenth century. In their cabins hung the same charts and signal flags which had done service in the days of Louis XIV and Frederick the Great. In short, they were (through no fault of their own) completely incompetent.
The sea of international politics is not very broad. When those Imperial and Colonial liners began to try and outrun each other, accidents were bound to happen. They did happen. You can still see the wreckage if you venture to pass through that part of the ocean.
And the moral of the story is a simple one. The world is in dreadful need of men who will assume the new leadership– who will have the courage of their own visions and who will recognise clearly that we are only at the beginning of the voyage, and have to learn an entirely new system of seamanship.
They will have to serve for years as mere apprentices. They will have to fight their way to the top against every possible form of opposition. When they reach the bridge, mutiny of an envious crew may cause their death. But some day, a man will arise who will bring the vessel safely to port, and he shall be the hero of the ages.
AS IT EVER SHALL BE
“The more I think of the problems of our lives, the more I am “persuaded that we ought to choose Irony and Pity for our “assessors and judges as the ancient Egyptians called upon “the Goddess Isis and the Goddess Nephtys on behalf of their “dead.
“Irony and Pity are both of good counsel; the first with her “smiles makes life agreeable; the other sanctifies it with her “tears.
“The Irony which I invoke is no cruel Deity. She mocks “neither love nor beauty. She is gentle and kindly disposed. “Her mirth disarms and it is she who teaches us to laugh at “rogues and fools, whom but for her we might be so weak as “to despise and hate.”
And with these wise words of a very great Frenchman I bid you farewell.
8 Barrow Street, New York.
Saturday, June 26, xxi.
AN ANIMATED CHRONOLOGY,
500,000 B.C.–A.D. 1922
THE END
CONCERNING THE PICTURES
CONCERNING THE PICTURES OF THIS BOOK AND A FEW WORDS ABOUT THE BIBLIOGRAPHY.
The day of the historical textbook without illustrations has gone. Pictures and photographs of famous personages and equally famous occurrences cover the pages of Breasted and Robinson and Beard. In this volume the photographs have been omitted to make room for a series of home-made drawings which represent ideas rather than events.
While the author lays no claim to great artistic excellence (being possessed of a decided leaning towards drawing as a child, he was taught to play the violin as a matter of discipline,) he prefers to make his own maps and sketches because he knows exactly what he wants to say and cannot possibly explain this meaning to his more proficient brethren in the field of art. Besides, the pictures were all drawn for children and their ideas of art are very different from those of their parents.
To all teachers the author would give this advice–let your boys and girls draw their history after their own desire just as often as you have a chance. You can show a class a photograph of a Greek temple or a mediaeval castle and the class will dutifully say, “Yes, Ma’am,” and proceed to forget all about it. But make the Greek temple or the Roman castle the centre of an event, tell the boys to make their own picture of “the building of a temple,” or “the storming of the castle,” and they will stay after school-hours to finish the job. Most children, before they are taught how to draw from plaster casts, can draw after a fashion, and often they can draw remarkably well. The product of their pencil may look a bit prehistoric. It may even resemble the work of certain native tribes from the upper Congo. But the child is quite frequently prehistoric or upper-Congoish in his or her own tastes, and expresses these primitive instincts with a most astonishing accuracy.
The main thing in teaching history, is that the pupil shall remember certain events “in their proper sequence.” The experiments of many years in the Children’s School of New York has convinced the author that few children will ever forget what they have drawn, while very few will ever remember what they have merely read.
It is the same with the maps. Give the child an ordinary conventional map with dots and lines and green seas and tell him to revaluate that geographic scene in his or her own terms. The mountains will be a bit out of gear and the cities will look astonishingly mediaeval. The outlines will be often very imperfect, but the general effect will be quite as truthful as that of our conventional maps, which ever since the days of good Gerardus Mercator have told a strangely erroneous story. Most important of all, it will give the child a feeling of intimacy with historical and geographic facts which cannot be obtained in any other way.
Neither the publishers nor the author claim that “The Story of Mankind” is the last word to be said upon the subject of history for children. It is an appetizer. The book tries to present the subject in such a fashion that the average child shall get a taste for History and shall ask for more.
To facilitate the work of both parents and teachers, the publishers have asked Miss Leonore St. John Power (who knows more upon this particular subject than any one else they could discover) to compile a list of readable and instructive books.
The list was made and was duly printed.
The parents who live near our big cities will experience no difficulty in ordering these volumes from their booksellers. Those who for the sake of fresh air and quiet, dwell in more remote spots, may not find it convenient to go to a book-store. In that case, Boni and Liveright will be happy to act as middle-man and obtain the books that are desired. They want it to be distinctly understood that they have not gone into the retail book business, but they are quite willing to do their share towards a better and more general historical education, and all orders will receive their immediate attention.
AN HISTORICAL READING LIST FOR CHILDREN
“Don’t stop (I say) to explain that Hebe was (for once) the “legitimate daughter of Zeus and, as such, had the privilege to draw “wine for the Gods. Don’t even stop, just yet, to explain who the “Gods were. Don’t discourse on amber, otherwise ambergris; don’t “explain that `gris’ in this connection doesn’t mean `grease’; don’t “trace it through the Arabic into Noah’s Ark; don’t prove its electrical “properties by tearing up paper into little bits and attracting them “with the mouth-piece of your pipe rubbed on your sleeve. Don’t “insist philologically that when every shepherd `tells his tale’ he is not “relating an anecdote but simply keeping `tally’ of his flock. Just go “on reading, as well as you can, and be sure that when the children “get the thrill of the story, for which you wait, they will be asking “more questions, and pertinent ones, than you are able to answer.– (“On the Art of Reading for Children,” by Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch.)
The Days Before History
“How the Present Came From the Past,” by Margaret E. Wells, Volume I.
How earliest man learned to make tools and build homes, and the stories he told about the fire-makers, the sun and the frost. A simple, illustrated account of these things for children. “The Story of Ab, by Stanley Waterloo.
A romantic tale of the time of the cave-man. (A much simplified edition of this for little children is “Ab, the Cave Man” adapted by William Lewis Nida.)
“Industrial and Social History Series,” by Katharine E. Dopp.
“The Tree Dwellers–The Age of Fear”
“The Early Cave-Men–The Age of Combat”
“The Later Cave-Men–The Age of the Chase”
“The Early Sea People–First Steps in the Conquest of the Waters”
“The Tent-Dwellers–The Early Fishing Men”
Very simple stories of the way in which man learned how to make pottery, how to weave and spin, and how to conquer land and sea.
“Ancient Man,” written and drawn and done into colour by Hendrik Willem van Loon.
The beginning of civilisations pictured and written in a new and fascinating fashion, with story maps showing exactly what happened in all parts of the world. A book for children of all ages.
The Dawn of History
“The Civilisation of the Ancient Egyptians,” by A. Bothwell Gosse.
“No country possesses so many wonders, and has such a number of works which defy description.” An excellent, profusely illustrated account of the domestic life, amusements, art, religion and occupations of these wonderful people.
“How the Present Came From the Past,” by Margaret E. Wells, Volume II.
What the Egyptians, the Babylonians, the Assyrians and the Persians contributed to civilisation. This is brief and simple and may be used as a first book on the subject.
“Stories of Egyptian Gods and Heroes,” by F. H. Brooksbank.
The beliefs of the Egyptians, the legend of Isis and Osiris, the builders of the Pyramids and the Temples, the Riddle of the Sphinx, all add to the fascination of this romantic picture of Egypt.
“Wonder Tales of the Ancient World,” by Rev. James Baikie.
Tales of the Wizards, Tales of Travel and Adventure, and Legends of the Gods all gathered from ancient Egyptian literature.
“Ancient Assyria,” by Rev. James Baikie.
Which tells of a city 2800 years ago with a street lined with beautiful enamelled reliefs, and with libraries of clay.
“The Bible for Young People,” arranged from the King James version, with twenty-four full page illustrations from old masters.
“Old, Old Tales From the Old, Old Book,” by Nora Archibald Smith.
“Written in the East these characters live forever in the West– they pervade the world.” A good rendering of the Old Testament. “The Jewish Fairy Book,” translated and adapted by Gerald Friedlander.
Stories of great nobility and beauty from the Talmud and the old Jewish chap-books.
“Eastern Stories and Legends,” by Marie L. Shedlock.
“The soldiers of Alexander who had settled in the East, wandering merchants of many nations and climes, crusading knights and hermits brought these Buddha Stories from the East to the West.”
Stories of Greece and Rome
“The Story of the Golden Age,” by James Baldwin.
Some of the most beautiful of the old Greek myths woven into the story of the Odyssey make this book a good introduction to the glories of the Golden Age.
“A Wonder Book and Tanglewood Tales,” by Nathaniel Hawthorne, with pictures by Maxfield Parrish.
“The Adventures of Odysseus and the Tale of Troy,” by Padraic Colum, presented by Willy Pogany.
An attractive, poetically rendered account of “the world’s greatest story.”
“The Story of Rome,” by Mary Macgregor, with twenty plates in colour.
Attractively illustrated and simply presented story of Rome from the earliest times to the death of Augustus.
“Plutarch’s Lives for Boys and Girls,” retold by W. H. Weston. “The Lays of Ancient Rome,” by Lord Macaulay.
“The early history of Rome is indeed far more poetical than anything else in Latin Literature.”
“Children of the Dawn,” by Elsie Finnemore Buckley.
Old Greek tales of love, adventure, heroism, skill, achievement, or defeat exceptionally well told. Especially recommended for girls.
“The Heroes; or, Greek Fairy Tales for My Children,” by Charles Kingsley.
“The Story of Greece,” by Mary Macgregor, with nineteen plates in colour by Walter Crane.
Attractively illustrated and simply presented–a good book to begin on.
Christianity
“The Story of Jesus,” pictures from paintings by Giotto, Fra Angelico, Duccio, Ghirlandais, and Barnja-da-Siena. Descriptive text from the New Testament, selected and arranged by Ethel Natalie Dana.
A beautiful book and a beautiful way to present the Christ Story. “A Child’s Book of Saints,” by William Canton.
Sympathetically told and charmingly written stories of men and women whose faith brought about strange miracles, and whose goodness to man and beast set the world wondering. “The Seven Champions of Christendom,” edited by F. J. H. Darton.
How the knights of old–St. George of England, St. Denis of France, St. James of Spain, and others–fought with enchanters and evil spirits to preserve the Kingdom of God. Fine old romances interestingly told for children.
“Stories From the Christian East,” by Stephen Gaselee.
Unusual stories which have been translated from the Coptic, the Greek, the Latin and the Ethiopic.
“Jerusalem and the Crusades,” by Estelle Blyth, with eight plates in colour.
Historical stories telling how children and priests, hermits and knights all strove to keep the Cross in the East.
Stories of Legend and Chivalry
“Stories of Norse Heroes From the Eddas and Sagas,” retold by E. M. Wilmot-Buxton.
These are tales which the Northmen tell concerning the wisdom of All-Father Odin, and how all things began and how they ended. A good book for all children, and for story-tellers. “The Story of Siegfried,” by James Baldwin.
A good introduction to this Northern hero whose strange and daring deeds fill the pages of the old sagas. “The Story of King Arthur and His Knights,” written and illustrated by Howard Pyle.
This, and the companion volumes, “The Story of the Champions of the Round Table,” “The Story of Sir Launcelot and His Companions,” “The Story of the Grail and the Passing of Arthur,” form an incomparable collection for children.
“The Boy’s King Arthur,” edited by Sidney Lanier, illustrated by N. C. Wyeth.
A very good rendering of Malory’s King Arthur, made especially attractive by the coloured illustrations. “Irish Fairy Tales,” by James Stephens, illustrated by Arthur Rackham.
Beautifully pictured and poetically told legends of Ireland’s epic hero Fionn. A book for the boy or girl who loves the old romances, and a book for story-telling or reading aloud. “Stories of Charlemagne and the Twelve Peers of France,” by A. J. Church.
Stories from the old French and English chronicles showing the romantic glamour surrounding the great Charlemagne and his crusading knights.
“The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood,” written and illustrated by Howard Pyle.
Both in picture and in story this book holds first place in the hearts of children.
“A Book of Ballad Stories,” by Mary Macleod.
Good prose versions of some of the famous old ballads sung by the minstrels of England and Scotland.
“The Story of Roland,” by James Baldwin.
“There is, in short, no country in Europe, and no language, in which the exploits of Charlemagne and Roland have not at some time been recounted and sung.” This book will serve as a good introduction to a fine heroic character.
“The Boy’s Froissart,” being Sir John Froissart’s Chronicles of Adventure, Battle, and Custom in England, France, Spain.
“Froissart sets the boy’s mind upon manhood and the man’s mind upon boyhood.” An invaluable background for the future study of history.
“The Boy’s Percy,” being old ballads of War, Adventure and Love from Percy’s Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, edited by Sidney Lanier.
“He who walks in the way these following ballads point, will be manful in necessary fight, loyal in love, generous to the poor, tender in the household, prudent in living, merry upon occasion, and honest in all things.”
“Tales of the Canterbury Pilgrims,” retold from Chaucer and others by E. J H. Darton.
“Sometimes a pilgrimage seemed nothing but an excuse for a lively and pleasant holiday, and the travellers often made themselves very merry on the road, with their jests and songs, and their flutes and fiddles and bagpipes.” A good prose version much enjoyed by boys and girls.
“Joan of Arc,” written and illustrated by M. Boutet de Monvel.
A very fine interpretation of the life of this great heroine. A book to be owned by every boy and girl.
“When Knights Were Bold,” by Eva March Tappan.
Telling of the training of a knight, of the daily life in a castle, of pilgrimages and crusades, of merchant guilds, of schools and literature, in short, a full picture of life in the days of chivalry. A good book to supplement the romantic stories of the time.
Adventurers in New Worlds
“A Book of Discovery,” by M. B. Synge, fully illustrated from authentic sources and with maps.
A thoroughly fascinating book about the world’s exploration from the earliest times to the discovery of the South Pole. A book to be owned by older boys and girls who like true tales of adventure. “A Short History of Discovery From the Earliest Times to the Founding of the Colonies on the American Continent,” written and done into colour by Hendrik Willem van Loon.
“Dear Children: History is the most fascinating and entertaining and instructive of arts.” A book to delight children of all ages. “The Story of Marco Polo,” by Noah Brooks. “Olaf the Glorious,” by Robert Leighton.
An historical story of the Viking age. “The Conquerors of Mexico,” retold from Prescott’s “Conquest of Mexico,” by Henry Gilbert.
“The Conquerors of Peru,” retold from Prescott’s “Conquest of Peru,” by Henry Gilbert.
“Vikings of the Pacific,” by A. C. Laut.
Adventures of Bering the Dane; the outlaw hunters of Russia; Benyowsky, the Polish pirate; Cook and Vancouver; Drake, and other soldiers of fortune on the West Coast of America. “The Argonauts of Faith,” by Basil Mathews.
The Adventures of the “Mayflower” Pilgrims. “Pathfinders of the West,” by A. C. Laut.
The thrilling story of the adventures of the men who discovered the great Northwest.
“Beyond the Old Frontier,” by George Bird Grinnell.
Adventures of Indian Fighters, Hunters, and Fur-Traders on the Pacific Coast.
“A History of Travel in America,” by Seymour Dunbar, illustrated from old woodcuts and engravings. 4 volumes.
An interesting book for children who wish to understand the problems and difficulties their grandfathers had in the conquest of the West. This is a standard book upon the subject of early travel, but is so readable as to be of interest to older children.
“The Golden Book of the Dutch Navigators,” by Hendrik Willem van Loon. Fully illustrated from old prints.
The World’s Progress in Invention–Art–Music.
“Gabriel and the Hour Book,” by Evaleen Stein.
How a boy learned from the monks how to grind and mix the colours for illuminating the beautiful hand-printed books of the time and how he himself made books that are now treasured in the museums of France and England.
“Historic Inventions,” by Rupert S. Holland.
Stories of the invention of printing, the steam-engine, the spinning- jenny, the safety-lamp, the sewing machine, electric light, and other wonders of mechanism.
“A History of Everyday Things in England,” written and illustrated by Marjorie and C. V. B. Quennell. 2 Volumes.
A most fascinating book, profusely illustrated in black and white and in colour, giving a vivid picture of life in England from 1066-1799. It tells of wars and of home-life, of amusements and occupations, of art and literature, of science and invention. A book to be owned by every boy and girl.
“First Steps in the Enjoyment of Pictures,” by Maude I. G. Oliver.
A book designed to help children in their appreciation of art by giving them technical knowledge of the media, the draughtsmanship, the composition and the technique of well-known American pictures. “Knights of Art,” by Amy Steedman.
Stories of Italian Painters. Attractively illustrated in colour from old masters.
“Masters of Music,” by Anna Alice Chapin. “Story Lives of Men of Science,” by F. J. Rowbotham. “All About Treasures of the Earth,” by Frederick A. Talbot.
A book that tells many interesting things about coal, salt, iron, rare metals and precious stones.
“The Boys’ Book of New Inventions,” by Harry E. Maule.
An account of the machines and mechancial{sic} processes that are making the history of our time more dramatic than that of any other age since the world began.
“Masters of Space,” by Walter Kellogg Towers.
Stories of the wonders of telegraphing through the air and beneath the sea with signals, and of speaking across continents. “All About Railways,” by F. S. Hartnell. “The Man-of-War, What She Has Done and What She Is Doing,” by Commander E. Hamilton Currey.
True stories about galleys and pirate ships, about the Spanish Main and famous frigates, and about slave-hunting expeditions in the days of old.
The Democracy of To-Day.
“The Land of Fair Play,” by Geoffrey Parsons.
“This book aims to make clear the great, unseen services that America renders each of us, and the active devotion each of us must yield in return for America to endure.” An excellent book on our government for boys and girls.
“The American Idea as Expounded by American Statesmen,” compiled by Joseph B. Gilder.
A good collection, including The Declaration of Independence, The Constitution of the United States, the Monroe Doctrine, and the famous speeches of Washington, Lincoln, Webster and Roosevelt. “The Making of an American,” by Jacob A. Riis.
The true story of a Danish boy who became one of America’s finest citizens.
“The Promised Land,” by Mary Antin.
A true story about a little immigrant. “Before we came, the New World knew not the Old; but since we have begun to come, the Young World has taken the Old by the hand, and the two are learning to march side by side, seeking a common destiny.”
Illustrated Histories in French.
(The colourful and graphic pictures make these histories beloved by all children whether they read the text or not.) “Voyages et Glorieuses Decouvertes des Grands Navigateurs et Explorateurs Francais, illustre par Edy Segrand.”
“Collection d’Albums Historiques.” Louis XI, texte de Georges Montorgueil, aquarelles de Job. Francois I, texte de G. Gustave Toudouze, aquarelles de Job. Henri IV, texte de Georges Montorgueil, aquarelles de H. Yogel. Richelieu, texte de Th. Cahu, aquarelles de Maurice Leloir. Le Roy Soleil, texte de Gustave Toudouze, aquarelles de Mauriae Leloir.
Bonaparte, texte de Georges Montorgueil, aquarelles de Job. `Fabliaux et Contes du Moyen-Age”; illustrations de A. Robida
INDEX {Not included}