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HOME RARER EDITORIAL. RAGE The Atlanta Georgian the THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN Published Every Afternoon Except .Sunday H> THE GEOlUJlAN COMPANY At 20 East Alabama St., AtlantH, (>a. Entered as second-cl hsh matter at post office at Atlanta, under act of March 3.1873 Subscription Price Delivered by carrier. 10 cents a week. By mail, $5.00 a year. Payable in Advance. < H 1 I 1 1 I I t :-H-l-H t H l-l- l I i ! I-I'l-l- H-l-H-l-H -l 'l 'NH-I-H 1 I [ [ | | OUR ANTEDILUVIAN ANCESTORS! Message Which the Monument to the Martyrs of the Maine Carries to Living America ta Aged hope Seer Places in the Women Copyright, IMS, lutemattonjil New* Service. 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 HearsKfciewspapers rejoice that they have been the means of gathering together 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 more 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 sailors 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 be 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. * :: Rev. John E. White Writes on The New Hypocrite tt « Let Us Remember, He Says, That the Hypocrite is the Public Bluffer, Whether Ht 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 *. i I 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 lias 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.” Un 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 ohanged 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 be almost universally rejected—the survival of the fittest. "The divine nature in us," declares this codiscoverer with Darw.'n 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 lock 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 man. Courage, work and achievement are the ingredients of .the needed public nostrum to-day just as they were when St. lGeor_ nit to slay the dragon—a dragon no more a fable 'to us to-day than our social ulcers will he to the comparatively supermen and superwomen of the not far distant future. “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? l 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 gives her an indefinite sense of inward pleasure. She is not fond of yel low, either, but all shades o^blue, green or violet are delightful to her. She likes to have them .about 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 dee|# blue, mi that the\ extend nearly from one end of the spec trum to the other. If I were com pel led to make an absolute choice 1 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 on*- form or another, lies at th* basis of all physical exist ence. 'Hie nervous system is a vi bratory engine of almost unimag inable sensitiveness. It governs the body and all the ‘manifesto - tions of the mind through the brain. Every different color is a different vibntion affecting the nerves. If you have a horror of red. like the lady of whom 1 have spoken, it is because your ner vous system is not attuned to vibration* of light having wave lengths so great as one forty- thousands of an inch. Your brain is something like a wireless re ceiver, keyed to short -waves, which is confused by the impact of waves of relatively great lengtn. The blue waves please you, and are agreeable to \our sense because their vibratory length does not exceed about one fifty-five-t housands of an inch, and such oscillations are congen ial to you. Rut neither the red waves nor tlie 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, would be the same in both cases. Since the sensations which w 7 e (all 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 hnd some of the lower animals, and the well-known Finsen rays (which are simply the A vav es 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. ■>HK 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 elected 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 tlie idea of hypocrisy is identi fied with religion. The Pharisee is related historically to unctious 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-* c rites. They may impose upon her. and so they haw done, and so they do, and so they .will, but the soul of the church will al ways repudiate them. The Play-Actors. i 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 word, 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 the new order of hypocrites who disport themselves in 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 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 faster on the eye than the long ones and the consequence is that they pro duce an impression which we call blue, while the others produce an impression which we call red. Dolors resemble musical notes. I\cu hundred and twenty-eight million-million light waves strik ing the eye per second produce the (.(dor red: sixty-four waves of sound striking the ear per second produce the note C-l; 634 million- million light waves striking the eye p<v second produce the color blue; 2. t> waves of sound striking the ear per second produce the note C-3. And so each so-called ' dor. and each so-called musical* note, is nothing but a special kind of impression on »he brain made by violations of a special fre quence. if .U'U can hurry up the vibra- HOME npHE 1 Se By ELLA WHEELER WILCOX Copyright. 1913, by American-Journal-Examiner. % \HE greatest words are always solitaires, Set singly in one syllable; like birth, Life. love. hope, peace. I sing the worth Of that dear word toward which^the whole world fares— I sing of home. To make a home, w-e 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 t hey 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 the time of need. Here in your home. 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. Ifer 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 yon could see them way up to the knee, too! No, I know 7 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 7 , hasn’t she guessed, who invented a dress like that and w*hy they wore it? What in the world is happening to us, anyhow! 1 sat in church last summer and saw a good priest send half a dozen girls right aw 7 ay 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 what 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 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* everythin* 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. Tt’s covering them up that’s bad.” I wonder if she was right after ail? ('an it be that w 7 e are going to trousers, knick erbockers and men’s hats at lust? 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 when 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 s ° much competition, nuyn’t she ? <church and the honesty of the world to strike hands. What an interesting spectacle it w r ould 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 that 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 cora- ittee 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 gullibility 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 acts his part against a background of religious scenery or not. \ ■ Breaking Down of Barriers By WINIFRED BLACK. <1 \ ,{