It is a long road from the savage to the scientist--from a den to a mansion--from leaves to clothes--from a flickering rush to the arc-light--from a hammer of stone to the modern mill--a long distance from the pipe of Pan to the violin--to the orchestra--from a floating log to the steamship--from a sickle to a reaper--from a flail to a threshing machine---from a crooked stick to a plow--from a spinning wheel to a spinning jenny--from a hand loom to a Jacquard--a Jacquard that weaves fair forms and wondrous flowers beyond Arachne's utmost dream--from a few hieroglyphics on the skins of beasts--on bricks of clay--to a printing press, to a library--a long distance from the messenger, traveling on foot, to the electric spark--from knives and tools of stone to those of steel--a long distance from sand to telescopes--from echo to the phonograph, the phonograph that buries in indented lines and dots the sounds of living speech, and then gives back to life the very words and voices of the dead--a long way from the trumpet to the telephone, the telephone that transports speech as swift as thought and drops the words, perfect as minted coins, in listening ears--a long way from a fallen tree to the suspension bridge--from the dried sinews of beasts to the cables of steel--from the oar to the propeller--from the sling to the rifle--from the catapult to the cannon--a long distance from revenge to law--from the club to the Legislature--from slavery to freedom--from appearance to fact--from fear to reason. And yet the distance has been traveled by the human race. Countless obstructions have been overcome--numberless enemies have been conquered--thousands and thousands of victories have been won for the right, and millions have lived, labored and died for their fellow-men. For the blessings we enjoy--for the happiness that is ours, we ought to be grateful. Our hearts should blossom with thankfulness. Whom, what, should we thank? Let us be honest--generous. Should we thank the church? Christianity has controlled Christendom for at least fifteen hundred years. During these centuries what have the orthodox churches accomplished, for the good of man? In this life man needs raiment and roof, food and fuel. He must be protected from heat and cold, from snow and storm. He must take thought for the morrow. In the summer of youth he must prepare for the winter of age. He must know something of the causes of disease--of the conditions of health. If possible he must conquer pain, increase happiness and lengthen life. He must supply the wants of the body--and feed the hunger of the mind. What good has the church done? Has it taught men to cultivate the earth? to build homes? to weave cloth to cure or prevent disease? to build ships, to navigate the seas? to conquer pain, or to lengthen life?