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EDITORIAL
RAGE The Atlanta Georgian
THE HOME RARER
THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN
Published Every Afternoon Except Sunday
By THE GEORGIAN COMPANY
At 20 East Alabama St.. Atlanta. Ga.
Entered as second-class matter at postofflce at Atlanta, under act March 3,1873
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1 1-1 l-H *-M"f H ^ 4 ++* H h 1 1-1-1 !■■? I 1 M 1 M 1 44W'H"H4-H"W ? 11M f-H 11 1 I H 1 I 1
Message Which the Monument
to the Martyrs of the Maine
Carries to Living America
i
A tribute from the whole people of the United States, the
monument to the men who died on the battleship Maine in
Havana Harbor, stands at one of the entrances to Central Park
in New York City where it has just been unveiled.
It is the willing acknowledgement by a generous people of
the willing sacrifice of as heroic a ship’s company as ever put to
sea under any flag. As nearly as the work of human hands can
depict human gratitude it is a fitting tribute, and The Georgian
and the other Hearst newspapers rejoice that they have been the
means of gathering togtther the offerings with which it was
erected.
The nation which the sacrifice of these gallant men made
free sent representatives to New York to join in the ceremonies
attending the unveiling. But mere important still was the pres
ence of thousands of representatives of the nation that such men
as those who died on the Maine have kept free through genera
tions and will keep free for all time to come.
Standing in a magnificent site, where millions of people will
view it, the monument is an object lesson in patriotism to the
nation. The devotion it commemorates is the every day devotion
of the American citizen, when he is called upon to give his life
for his country. It never has failed, and it never will fail.
No man can tell how soon the brave soldiers and sailers of
this country will again be called upon to respond to the call to
arms. With the splendid wealth and resources of this nation,
they ought never to he sent forth on forlorn hopes, never dis
patched to such a fate as that which awaited the brave men of
the Maine.
In his address at the unveiling Mr. Hearst said:
“It is our duty as citizens to see that such sacrifices shall
not be needless and fruitless. It is our duty as citizens to sup
ply sufficient ships and guns in order that their devotion may
have the means and munitions for our defense, and in order that
their devotion may not be either unappreciated or unavailing.”
This should be the message of the monument. When cour
age such as every American soldier and sailor possesses is ready
at the people’s call, it is the people’s duty to back that courage
up with general support, to match men with ships, and guns.
And when that is done, when the patriotism of the Congress
of the United States shall equal the patriotism of the men
already enlisted under the flag, or ready to enlist at the sound
of alarm, such a sacrifice as that which the Maine monument
commemorates will not have been in vain.
T ft
Aged
Hope
Seer Places
in the Women
Only fifteen years ago the
Grand Old Man of Science
gladdened the world with
“The Wonderful Century.’’
In science, mechanics, inven
tions, transportation and surgery, Dr. Alfred Russel Wallace told
us, the human race had made more progress in the seventy-five
years just passed than in the previous eight thousand. It was a
happy volume. It seemed the reply of science to the general
jest of its day: “Is life worth living?’’ Its author was then
seventy-five years old.
Now Dr. Wallace is ninety, and in “Social Environment and
Moral Progress" what does he tell the world? That “it is not
too much to say that our whole system of society is rotten from
top to bottom, and the Social Environment as a whole, in rela
tion to our possibilities and our claims, is the worst that the
world has ever seen!
What can have happened? An optimist at seventy-five is
not likely to turn pessimist at ninety. So sage an observer as
Dr. Wallace is not likely to turn at all without reasons that are
convincing to at least one of the greatest thinkers of the cen
tury. The last few years have proved a climax to a vast
economic and industrial revolution, the results of which appear
to Dr. Wallace's trained vision as “almost wholly evil.” Uh-
fortunately, he discerns the remedies.
Universal competition must give way to universal co
operation ; economic antagonism to economic brotherhood.
Monopoly and its inheritance, whether of capital or land, must
yield to universal inheritance by the State in trust for the whole
community. Our antagonistic social system must be changed
into one of brotherly co-operation and co-ordination for the equal
good of all.
“The Augean stable of our present social organization hav
ing been thus cleaned, the future progress of the race will be
rendered surer by the fuller development of its higher nature
acted on by a special play.’’ Here Dr. Wallace goes deep into
the meaning of the feminist movement so world-wide and press
ing to-day, for, he explains, in a state of society in which all
women shall be economically independent and socially free to
choose, numbers of the worst men among all classes who now
readily obtain wives will he almost universally rejected—the
survival of the fittest.
“The divine nature in us," declares this codiscoverer with
Darwin of the doctrine of natural selections, “cannot be lost."
Competition IS already grudgingly giving way to combi
nation and co-operation; economic antagonism IS exposing its
own folly; monopoly in all its forms, IS being powerfully at
tacked; pride of caste was never deemed more empty. A be
ginning has been made There have been other voices than
that of the wonderful nonogenarian crying in the wilderness—
modern voices, such, for instance, as the hum of the presses of
this and its allied newspapers, talking to the millions day in
and day out, year after year, across a continent and an ocean.
Conan Doyle has said nothing more inspiring than that,
if we look carefully behind the forbidding mists of nature,
even at their grayest, we shall usually be able to find a kindly
intention. The many shocking evils Dr. Wallace enumerates
have assumed formidable shape so rapidly that their rapid
destruction has been made necessary by their very enormity.
Here is a field of weeds big enough to provide a task for every
nan.
Courage, work and achievement are the ingredients of
the needed public nostrum to-day just as they were when St.
George went out to slay the dragon—a dragon no more a fable
to us to-day than our social ulcers will be to the comparatively
supeioen and superwomen of the not .\,r distant iuture.
‘‘That’s a good joke on Skinclothes!”
“What is it?”
“Aw, you know, he’s a crank about kindness to animals! Well, sir, every time he goes in bathing
that pet brontosaurus of his grabs him and pulls him out! It thinks it’s saving his life!”
How Would You Like to Take Color Baths?
it Is Possible Something of the Kind May Be Developed
By GARRETT P. SERVISS.
I KNOW a lady who cannot en
dure the color red. She says
it hurts her eyes to look at it.
More than that, she declares that
It almost turns her sick If she Is
compelled to see It for a consid
erable time.
But blue delights her. and drives
her an indefinite sense of inward
pleasure. She is not fond of yel
low, either, but all shades of blue,
green or violet are delightful to
her. She likes to have them
nbout her, and avers that they
stimulate her nervous system and
make her mentally brighter and
more cheerful.
Gives Sense of Pleasure.
All of us have similar, though
less pronounced, preferences or
prejudices about colors, some
times without being fully aware
of the fact, because we have nev
er analyzed our feelings about
them. I, myself, like nearly all
colors, but my favorites are a
bright red. a rich yellow and a
deep blue, so that they extend
nearly from one end of the spec
trum to the other. If I were com
pelled to make an absolute choice
I should probably select some
shade of blue.
Now, there is reason for think
ing that this question of color
preference possesses an impor
tance far greater than shows on
the surface. It may deeply af
fect our physical and mental
well-being.
Some think that it is merely a
matter of artistic temperament or
training, but it strikes deeper
than that. It is a matter of sen
sitiveness to vibration, and re
cent discoveries show that vibra
tion, in one form or another, lies
at the basis of all physical exist
ence.
The nervous system is a vi
bratory engine of almost unimag
inable sensitiveness. It governs
the body and all the manifesta
tions of the mind through the
brain. Every different color is a
different vibntion affecting the
nc.-ves If you have a horror of
r« d 11 ae the lady of whom I have
i on, it is because your ner
vous s\r.tem is not attuned to
vibrations of light having wave
lengths so great as one forty-
th is inds of an inch. Your brain
is something like a wireless re
ceiver, k« \ d to short waves,
w h is confused by the impact
of wavo of relatively great
length. The blue waves please
you. .LLui —MS
sense because their vibratory
length does not exceed about one
fifty-five-thousands of an inch,
and such oscillations are congen
ial to you.
But neither the red waves nor
% the blue ones have any color in
tions of either light or sound so
that the same waves strike more
frequently you will change the
color, or the note, as the case may
be. If the light waves which
cause pain to the lady who de
tests the “color" red, could be
made to enter her eye at the rate
of 634 million-million per second
instead of only 428 million-million
she would be delighted by seeing
her favorite “color” blue—and yet
the waves, as waves, w'ould be the
same in both cases.
Since the sensations which we
call colors are thus proved to be
simply the effect of particular fre
quencies of vibration affecting the
nerves, it seems evident that there
must be a physiology (vital
science), of color, the study of
which might prove of great bene
fit to humanity. It has already
been proved that certain light
waves have a wonderful effect
upon living things, such as plants
and some of the lower animals,
and the well-known Finsen rays
(which are simply the waves of
ultra-violet light), are capable of
eradicating some diseases of the
human skin. There have been
experiments which seemed to in
dicate that “baths” of blue light
may have a stimulating effect
upon the nervous system of some
persons.
If a real science could be built
up about this subject it might be
possible to find the vibration fre
quencies that were most congen
ial to different individuals, and
thus to develop a valuable system
of color bathing that would be a
boon to humanity.
GARRETT P. SERVISS.
themselves. The color is simply
a particular impression in the
brain, made by a particular num
ber of vibrations per second strik
ing upon the optic nerve. All the
light waves move forward at the
same speed, and if they all had
the same length there would be
only one color.
They Have No Color.
But the short ones strike fi-ster
on the eye than the long ones and
the consequence is that they pro
duce an impression which call
blue, while the others produce an
impression which we call rod.
Colors resemble musical notes.
Four hundred and twenty-eight
million-million light waves strik
ing the eye per second produce
the color red; sixty-four waves of
sound striking the ear per second
produce the note C-l; 634 million-
million light waves striking the
eye pec second produce the color
blue; 2?6 waves of sound striking
the ear per second produce the
note C-3. And so each so-eallen
color, and each so-called musical
note, is nothing but a special kind
of impression on »he brain made
by vibrations of a special fre
quency.
% vou ran hum* *ur» t>»<» vihm
HOME
By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX
Copyright, 1913, by American-Journal-Examiner.
T HE greatest words are always solitaires,
Set singly in one syllable; like birth,
Life, love, hope, peace. • I sing the w’orth
Of that dear word toward which the whole world fares^
I sing of home.
To make a home, we should take all of love,
And much of labor, patience, and keen joy,
Then mix the elements of earth’s alloy
With finer things drawn from the realms above,
The spirit-home.
There should be music, melody and song;
Beauty in every spot; an open door
And generous sharing of the pleasure store
With fellow pilgrims as they pass along,
Seeking for home.
Make ample room for silent friends—the books—
That give so much and only ask for space.
Nor let Utility crowd out the vase
Which has no use save gracing by its looks
The precious home.
To narrow' bounds, let mirrors lend their aid
And multiply each gracious touch of art.
And let the casual stranger feel the part—
The great creative part—that love has played
Within the home.
Here bring your best in thought and word and deed,
Your sweetest acts, your highest self-control;
Nor save them for some later hour and goal.
Here is the place, and now tbe time of need.
Here in your home.
Rev. John E. White
Writes on
The New Hypocrite
Let Us Remember, He Says,
That the Hypocrite is the
Public Bluffer, Whether He
Acts His Part Against a Back
ground of Religious Scenery
or Not.
WRITTEN FOR THE GEORGIAN
By REV. DR. JOHN E. WHITE
Pastor Second Baptist Church
rpHE hypocrite has had his
share of the world’s con
tempt. In history and in
literature he has been pilloried
and despised. The standard of
sincerity Is erected in human na
ture so stubbornly that no
amount of defiance of habit and
custom can dislocate it.
The hypocrite has come to
stand as the symbol of something
universally despicable.
In the minds of most people
the Idea of hypocrisy Is identi
fied with religion. The Pharisee
is related historically to unctlous
piety.
It is a tribute to the religious
conscience that the common
thought has been so directed and
the church will be the last to
lower her creed of conduct in
order to accommodate its hypo
crites.
They may impose upon her,
and so they have done, and so
they do, and so they will, but
the soul of the church will al
ways repudiate them.
The Play-Actors.
The time has come to recog
nize that the woe of the hypocrite
is wider than the church and that
we have to deal to-day with a
new' order of hypocrites.
The word hypocrite originally
meant simply a play-actor.
Among the Greeks who coined
the w'ord, it referred to those
who assumed the role on the
stage and played a part.
The mean significance of the
word was merely the extension of
its original idea to actual life
and conduct.
The man who pretended to be
what he was not—the play-actor
—the bluffer of public opinion
was a hypocrite.
A faithful application of the
truth to the facts will pronounce
that religion must take a back
seat as the pre-eminent realm of
hypocrite compared with th^ new
order of hypocrites who disport
themselves 1n society, In politics
and in business.
It would be a very healthy thing
if the social conscience could be
brought to disdain these play
actors outside the church as
frankly as the church disavows
the hypocrites within it. Here is
the point for the honesty of the
chuTch and the honesty of the
world to strike hands.
What an interesting spectacle
it would be for society, politics
and business to go around and
hang the hypocrite’s placard on
the backs of the bluffers who
parade pretentions and espouse
virtues with a selfish purpose to
pass for better than they are.
Some Illustrations.
The charge is frequently made
and often admitted thait political
platforms are chiefly intended to
get on in order to get In: that is
to say, a company of astute
politicians set forth a proclama
tion of principles which are
loudly professed, but which real
ly represent no sincerity of hon
est Intention.
First, let us rob the church of
its Word and call them what
they are—"Hypocrites.”
What would happen in Atlanta,
for illustration, if a serious com-
lttee of citizens should go around
to ascertain the precise specific
gravity of the sincerity of that
loud clamor against scattering
the social evil over the city which
for eight months has been pa
raded?
Such a committee Is, of course,
unnecessary, but for the sake of
a smile as long as a street just
imagine the vast vacancy of
sincerity such an Investigation
would uncover.
The new order of hypocrites
does honestly believe In one
truth—the gullability of the pub
lic.
There Is a bit of honesty, of
course, in any man who cham
pions a virtue.
He Feels Virtuous.
He himself feels a little virtuous
because he patronizes the virtue,
but if this were the acquittal of
hypocrites there would be none.
It is to be feared, however,
that, hypocrisy would lose all its
distinction if you take it out of
the field of religion and apply
it faithfully In all directions.
But there is the category and the
truth is in it—“The New Hypo
crite.”
Suppose we let it stick and re
member that the hypocrite is the
play-actor, the public bluffer,
whether he acta his part against
a background of religious scenery
or not.
Breaking Down of Barriers
By WINIFRED BLACK.
I MET her on the street to-day,
the little girl I’ve known since
she wore short skirty coats
and her hair in a braid down her
chubby back.
Her eyes are as blue as ever,
her cheeks are like the dawn, and
her soft yellow hair looks like
cornsilk. but, whatever is the
matter with that girl’s mother
and her aunts and her grand
mother and her sisters, and hasn't
she a father any more, and what
has happened to her brother?
Won’t She Listen?
Seems to me she had a cousin
about her age once. He used to
live next door to her and drag her
to school on his little sled and pull
her hair and make faces at her,
and fight any boy who dared look
at her—what’s become of cousin
—isn’t there a soul on earth who
really cares a penny about poor
little Miss Pretty Face any more?
Or won’t she listen to them
when they try to tell her what she
looks like, these days? Let’s see
what was it she wore—a frock of
bright yellow’, with no waist
on at all; satin slippers with gilt
heels, silk stockings, embroidered
in yellow flowers. Oh, yes, you
could see them, you couldn’t help
seeing those stockings—a block
away—and you could see them
way' up to the knee, too! No,
I know it isn’t decent to talk
about it, but it’s true, and there
was no petticoat under the thin
silk, and the hat was down over
one eye; poor, pretty, good little
goose, looking like what she is not
at all. and I suppose she would be
furious if strange men followed
her and said things she ought not
to hear. What does she expect?
Doesn’t she know, hasn’t she
guessed, who invented a dress like
that and why they wore it?
What in the world is happening
to us. anvhou! I sat in church
last summer and saw a good
priest send half a dozen girls
right away from the altar rail.
“I will give no communion to
Jezebel,” said the priest, and home
went the girls to put on more
clothes. Poor, old father—I won
der w’hat he would do if one of
these yellow and green birds of
paradise should swagger or slink
up to the altar rail this year?
Isn’t there any limit, girls, hon
estly now, isn’t there? Where are
you going to stop?
"Show girls,” said a theatrical
manager to me the other day,
“show girls, why what's the use,
nobody Is going to pay money to
sit In the front row r any more.
He can get all the same views
right on Main Street for nothing.”
Is there no imagination left
anywhere? Must we stop dreaming
entirely and know everything
good and bad, ugly and pretty?
And yet, maybe, it’s all right;
perhaps this very breaking down
of all the customary barriers of
modesty and reserve is the very
thing to make no such barrier
necessary.
Dr. Mary Walker always said:
“There’s nothing immodest about
ankles. It's covering them up
that’s bad.” I wonder if she was
right after all? Can it be that
we are going to trousers, knick
erbockers and men’s hats at last?
Not such a bad idea, perhaps.
If She Had Heard!
Who knows, but in the mean
time—somehow I do hate to re
member the things I overheard
the men say w'hen my little friend
came along the other day, blue
eyes, yellow hair, June-morning
face—and the dress of a bold
eyed' Jezebel.
Poor Jezebel, I wonder what
she is doing these days? She
must feel rather out of it. with
so much competition, mustn’t
she?