The malignant
molecules seemed to search out their victims. They crept through the
crevices of the subterranean shelters. They hunted for the pinholes in
the face masks. They lay in wait for days in the trenches for the
soldiers' return as a cat watches at the hole of a mouse. The cannon
ball could be seen and heard. The poison gas was invisible and
inaudible, and sometimes even the chemical sense which nature has given
man for his protection, the sense of smell, failed to give warning of
the approach of the foe.
The smaller the matter that man can deal with the more he can get out of
it. So long as man was dependent for power upon wind and water his
working capacity was very limited. But as soon as he passed over the
border line from physics into chemistry and learned how to use the
molecule, his efficiency in work and warfare was multiplied manifold.
The molecular bombardment of the piston by steam or the gases of
combustion runs his engines and propels his cars. The first man who
wanted to kill another from a safe distance threw the stone by his arm's
strength.
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