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—_—_— Nilk W : . : AR o N» , i R
S eaving by Machinery, Developed b , ; s '
HE pictures on this page, telling their
story of progress and human in
genuity, emphasize the value of
THE PICTURE as an educator.
The moment you look at this
drawing you know what it means,
no further statement, no words re
quired. Your mind sees the barefooted Arab, painfully
handling with his fingers the delicate silk. It is spun
by the silk worm a 8 a warm wrapping for its cocoon,
and taken by man from the silk worms, boiled alive in
the process, to make glistening gowns for women that
evolution produced on earth thousands of years after
the silk worms began their spinning.
‘s & :
You see also the improved method of using the silk
worm'’s product. You see gigantic machinery, controlled
by men, attentivep, well dressed, well fed, well paid,
watching the gigantic machines doing in an hour more
than the Arab could do in a whole life time.
You see huge wheels, thousands of spools, and,
lodking closely, you see a faint indication of the threads
that run from the banks of spools to the huge wheels.
No words are needed as you study these two
pictures and realize the marvelous mechanical tasks
overcome by man'’s scientific genius.
. %
As you admire man’s ingenuity in making strong
cloth of the delicate silk fibre, do not forget the silk
worm’s marvelous work.
It lives its life as a queer wormy caterpillar,
{evouring great quantities of the leaves of the mulberry
tree. It gets fat and big. Then something in the tiny
brain says, ‘‘A great change is coming, get ready.’
¢ * ¢
It knows nothing about what the change is to be—
-18 little as we know about the change that brought us
into this world;-as little as we know about the change
.shat is waiting for us when we go out again.
But the silk worm knows that SOMETHING is
PICTURES OF PROGRESS
These Two Scenes Tell More About
Progress Than Many Printed Pages Could
Tell. s
First Man Used His Hands and Teeth
in Animal Fashion. Then His Brain
Taught Him to Make Tools to Be Used by
going to happen, and gets anxious, like Mary Wilkins's
old maid preparing a nice silk dress in which to be
buried.
- 8
The silk worm begins spinning the cocoon, a sort of
coffin, into which the worm retires to wait and see what
will happen next.
This cocoon is wound around with the silk fibre.
Tiny threads, scarcely visible to the eye in the sunlight,
are each one so powerful that the finest steel wire of
equal weight would snap under half the weight that the
gilk worm’s thread will sustain.
Having spun out of itself silk wrapping for the co
coon into which it will retire, not knowing whether the
cocoon is a permanent coffin, or, as it turns out to be, a
beautiful ascension robe from which a butterfly is des.
tined to emerge, the silk worm goes to sleep and leaves
the rest to fate.
P 5 8
Man having watched the whole process—as some
mysterious power perhaps watches us— gathers the
cocoons, having previously provided green food for the
worms. They had no idea of the ‘‘origin and destiny
of worms.”” They would have laughed heartily like
any two-legged atheist if any one had suggested that a
superior being was providing the food for them, and
would boil them in their cocoons later to get the silk.
The cocoons are put in hot water, the living thing
inside is killed—never to be a butterfly angel.
’ Under the influence of the heat, the wonderful silk
fiber that the silk worm created as a resting place for
itself is unwound on the big machine that you see in
ATLANTA, GA., SUNDAY, APRIL 21, 1918.
His Hands. Now the Brain Makes Ma
chine Slaves of Steel, Run by Steam or Elec
tric Power, That Set Men Free. Cbmp;zre
These Two Pictures of Silk - weaving
Methods and Ask Y ourself What the Prog
ress of the Future Will Be.
this picture, and by man’s ingenuity made into silk
cloth, the cloth into short dresses that hang down above
silk stockings, also made of the poor silk worm’s prod
uct—and the band plays and the lady dances, shining
from head to foot, clothed in the strippings of the silk
worm'’s temporary coffin. 3
A & 8
This is a world of big things ruling little things,
each wondering what is going to happen next.
The silk worm retires into it cocoon, little think
ing that it is to be hoiled as it lies inside, and stripped
of the thread that it made so slowly, to dress a lady
that cannot spin silk for herself.
When a human being retires into the coffin, and is
put down in the grave, or inserted in the crematory, he
has no positive knowledge as to what is going to hap
pen, but wisely secures peace of mind through the belief
that everything is going to be all right, and that a per
fect heaven awaits that which is to come out of the
coffin cocoon.
» )
Consider the silk worm'’s ignorance. It lies first
in a tiny egg, laid by the silk-worm mother, fastened
to a leaf. If it could think in that egg it could say,
““This is perfect. I always was an egg, I am always
going to be an egg.”’
The egg hatches, and your silk worm is a crawl
ing, wriggling worm with many legs and a big appe
tite. If it could think it would say, ‘“The only im
portant business is eating green leaves and getting
fat.”
And again, locked up in a comatose condition in the
cocoon, it would say, ‘‘Perpetual peace is the real
thing. This is ideal. No crawling around, no eating,
no digesting, no spinning silk, no trouble. Just rest.’’
How surprised the egg, crawling worm and sleep
ing inhabitant of the cocoon would be if some one said,
‘‘This isn’t real life at all. By and by you will burst
out a butterfly with wings, fly through the air, enjoy
the sunlight, fall in love with another butterfly and
really live for the first time.”’
5 5
Since so many surprises follow each other in the
life of a simple silk worm egg, may there not be in
teresting surprises coming to us human beings? Are
we now in the egg, the crawling worm, the cocoon or
butterfly stage? We don’t know.
Some religions teach that the ultimate end of man
will be a sort of imitation of a butterfly with wings,
flying around in eternal sunlight without eating, marry
ing or giving in marriage, but singing a great deal and
very happy.
Millions of Asiatics, eager for the blessed peace
that Budda promises in ‘‘Nirvana,"’ think that they
will find happiness in unconsciousness, in complete rest,
a sort of a perpetual cocoon existence—*‘a calm or sin
less state, reached by a dying out or extinction of sin.”’
As for us, in the language of cynical old Voltaire,
let us not deny anything, but keep our minds open and
observe.
2 8 8
For the present observe the value of pictures as
here illustrated, in the work of education, and be ne
longer surprised when you read that millions of human
beings every day go to see the pictures that move. For
pictures, plus motion, PLUS THE GOOD PURPOSE
AND THE EDUCATIONAL OR MORAL FORCE
THAT SHOULD UNDERLY EVERY PICTURE,
are the normal mental food of the human race in its
present stage of development. The mind of man ab
sorbs the meaning of a moving picture as readily and
gladly as the young silk worm digests mulberry leaves.
To each the food mental and physical to which he
is adapted,