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by Lothrop Stoddard (Author)
What a paradox modern life is! On the one hand, we see a sudden extension of human knowledge and power so stupendous as to stagger the imagination. Within the past century, the slow, slow tempo of material progress by which, through countless ages, man climbed painfully from savagery to civilization, has been violently shattered, and we have literally leaped into a new self-made world. The hidden powers of nature have yielded themselves wholesale, as though at the wave of a magician's wand. Our dwelling place, the earth, shrinks to the measure of human hands. Cosmic wonders, from the fiery whorls of outer nebula to the pulsing heart of the minute atom, come within our ken. Most significant of all, even the mysterious depths of our own selves are being plumbed, and the hope of ancient sages, "Know Thyself!" seems on the way to realization.
Such is the brilliant side of our age. But there is another-and a darker-side. This new world, which we have suddenly entered, resplendent though it be, proves likewise in many respects a troublesome and perplexing abode. Unprepared by previous experience, swayed by ideas and habits brought with us from other times, and confused by the very magnitude of our new powers and the ill-digested mass of our new knowledge, we are like pioneers in a strange land, perplexedly feeling our way amid unfamiliar scenes.
