The Story of Mankind

 

By Hendrik Van Loon, Ph.D.

 

FOREWORD

 

For Hansje and Willem:

 

WHEN I was twelve or thirteen years old, an uncle of mine who gave me my love

for books and pictures promised to take me upon a memorable expedition. I was to

go with him to the top of the tower of Old Saint Lawrence in Rotterdam.

 

And so, one fine day, a sexton with a key as large as that of Saint Peter opened

a mysterious door. "Ring the bell," he said, "when you come back and want to get

out," and with a great grinding of rusty old hinges he separated us from the

noise of the busy street and locked us into a world of new and strange

experiences.

 

For the first time in my life I was confronted by the phenomenon of audible

silence. When we had climbed the first flight of stairs, I added another

discovery to my limited knowledge of natural phenomena--that of tangible

darkness. A match showed us where the upward road continued.

 

We went to the next floor and then to the next and the next until I had lost

count and then there came still another floor, and suddenly we had plenty of