Newspaper Page Text
4
January 15, 1936
THE CAMPUS MIRROR
Morphia
Anita Lain, ’36
Maybe (lo<l lmd His eye on the fast-
disappearing kerosene lamp or maybe
on the candle manufacturers—at any
rate the Christmas irregularity was
one of the most humanly disgusting
things Atlanta has undergone since the
big fire in the second decade of the
century: chaotic darkness where the
merest flicker of a light took on huge
significance—the supply of old fash
ioned candles and lamps unable to
meet the demand—treacherous trees
bending, bowing and breaking at the
very command of nature—and man—
ugh! what a feeble attempt he made
. . . Homes that had flourished with
light remained bizarre and forboding-
ly dark; under a blanket of ice, man
stretched long unused muscles and cells
to find that they had become quite
useless. Candles flickered when door
bells were rung (half of which had
been put out of commission and old
fashioned knocking proved much more
effective). Faces illuminated by
shadows appeared, and sounds of
voices were much more familiar than
physical characteristics. Trees and
wires played havoc with the city . . .
What is man, after all?
Progress has made him soft, idle,
and futile. He has bathed in the lap
of luxury (a necessity to him now) so
long that he has fooled himself into
believing in his powers. He thinks he
has conquered the world. He builds
himself a dream castle around his ob
session, based on a foundation of in
sulated wires and metal pipes. He loses
himself in this maze of hodge-podge
scientific invention and where does he
find himself?
In all probability he doesn’t find
himself. It is so easy to relax his
mind and press a button for the ful
fillment of his slightest whim, while
his Robots putter and patter and even
attempt to think for him. Then na
ture, weary of her harness, stretches,
and the smooth, oiled chains of her
bridle pop like spun glass. Fuming
animal man is! He flounders around
—finds himself a bit of battered tal
low and wick, lights it and the wind
laughs at him in his sport-—Yet he
goes on thinking that mastery is mere
ly an upward climb, and he has mis
taken a landing for the apex.
But, don't let us discourage V’ou.
What, then, you say, is the use of
progress? Why go on with something
that gets you nowhere? And then you
have your answer: progress is life. It
varies for competition—competition
calls forth alertness—alertness de
mands appreciation of even the most
minute things; and man, equipped with
a brain, must think; else how differs
lie from the other animals to whom
lie prefers to remain so superior? We
merely argue that it is a temporary
state of affairs. Of course, you may
take the negative and insist that the
deluge of ice and darkness was rather
the temporary state of affairs. It
might console your vanity but we, hav
ing none, are not looking for any con
solation. We insist that before man
reaches to pat himself on the back,
he should—most wisely, look around
for assurance that nature is not just
ready to yank his feet from beneath
him without a semblance of a warn
ing.
Pray, don’t mind us. Ho ahead with
your little progress. AVe, like you,
live in it—-enjoy it—become idle and
useless also. But still we are prideless
enough on this dawn of a New Year
to suggest that when you ring in the
new—you won’t entirely forsake the
old. It was a very poetic thought when
Tennyson wrote “Ring out the old—
Ring in the new” but our prosaic in
tuitions and inhibitions make us sajq
Ring in the new, but keep a clutch on
the old—you may have to resort to
candles again sometime. If we have
offended you, we are sorry. If we have
been guilty of rambling, we apologize.
AVe have been sorely hurt.
Ice Grips the Campus
Theodis Weston, ’38
Atlanta experienced an ice storm
that was incomparable to any in thirty
years. After the snow had fallen Fri
day night, December 27, the rain on
the following Saturday easily froze
and produced sheets of ice over the
ground and ice sheaths on every
branch and twig of the trees, in fact
on every exposed surface. The tele
phone and electric wires were all
swayed by the weight of the very or
derly fringe of icicles. Some broke
under the weight and a number of
the telephones on the campus were out
of commission.
Many homes, schools and places of
business in Atlanta were without
lights for days and were compelled to
use candles for lighting purposes, but
because Spelman has her own light
plant with underground wiring, the
Spelman lights never went out; some
thing for which all are thankful.
An unbearable scene it was—the
once beautiful trees all broken, and
others swinging to the ground because
of the weight of the ice. Although
the damage was great, it Avas exciting
to a number Avho had never seen the
like. Many found the danger excit
ing—“Have you fallen yet?” became
the question of the icy days.
(Continued on Page 7, Column 2)
National Youth Administra
tion Gets Under Way
The National Youth Administration,
which is sending several students to
Spelman College this year, has started
an interesting program on the college
campus. N. A'. A. students are sup
plied with blank questionnaires Avith
which to investigate the earning power
of the students.
Many students, when bombarded
with questionnaires seeking informa
tion on what their parents earned, how
much they themselves had worked, the
age of everyone in their family, and
similar questions, were filled Avith
righteous indignation, even though the
questionnaires Avere, it seems, kept in
confidence.
It seems a far-fetched xvay for stu
dents to earn their monthly alloAvance,
but it should be an interesting experi
ment.
At any rate, the investigators Avill
know what students have earned, even
though I do not see how it can measure
the earning poAver of students, since
many who could earn have not tried.
Mrs E. P. Johnson
(Continued from Page 1)
As Airs. Johnson greAv in years, she
watched the progress of “her schools”
with the interest and tenderness of a
parent over an only child.
Her life and its influence reached
further than the colleges and schools,
for Airs. Johnson Avas a lox r er of Sun
day School and every Sunday morn
ing found her at her post, teaching lit
tle children the Avays of Christ. AVhat-
ever need came to hand Avas interpreted
as the Lord’s call, and every day Avas
packed with good deeds. It is mem
ories of such spirits as Mrs. Johnson’s
that students live by.
school year, Airs. Johnson would spend
Avhole days at the station meeting stu
dents or seeing them off.
Doctor Toyohiko Kagawa
(Continued from Page 1)
fv years spreading his gospel of renun
ciation, neither accomplished Avhat
Christ Avas able to do in one brief year
of his ministry in which he overturned
the world.”
Buddahism does not give loA r e and
neither does Confucianism, but Chris
tianity does—this is manifested in
Jesus' teachings and life principles.
V e need that love today. Although
Ave sometimes think that Avealth is a
means to an end, yet wealth means
nothing but a struggle for life. Re
deeming love is the essence of Jesus’
principles and we need it.