Newspaper Page Text
Editorial Page .
Society and Drama Sports and Picture In This Section In This Section .1w_ om 421now Grio. 3a...ml ss"e gin." ." a. .uf. ..s. .sm.. This admirable cartoon by McCay is suggested by Maeterlinck's article in the July number of o t's Magazine. Mr. Masterlinck calls his article "Your Past Sub ous Self." He is a believer in "the persistency of the personality of the soul after death." If you are inter ested in the persistency of YOUR personality after death, you will want to read what Maeterlinck says in Hearst's Magaine about "the unknown gigantic guest" that dwells within each of us. This picture and editorial dial with what we actu. ally KNOW, namely, that locked up inside of us we actually have something from EACH ONE of the millions - of ancestors standing back of us in past generations, as this gigantic figure stands behind the little man in Mr. McCay's cartoon. When you were a baby some one said: ."I can see the mother in that child." Or something was said about seeing father, grandfather or great-grandfather. Each of us hs TWO parents, FOUE grandparents, NIGHT great grandparents, SIXTEEN geat-great-grandparents, etc. Go back twenty generations, say three hundred years, and you can trace with absolute mrthematical certainty TWO MIT-ON NINETY-SEVEN T HOUSAND ONE HUN DRED AND FIFTY OF YOUrf OWN ANCESTORS IN A DI0ECT LINE. In the last twenty generations, therefore, more then two miHion human beings, male and female, have con tributed something to that which you oill "Myself." Mr. L. B. Lomersan, an expert, has prepared figures showing how many ancestors each of us would have theoretically, going back one hundred generations. And one hundred generations are not many. We could go back a thousand generations and still be within the limit of history's faint outline. To write the number of direct ancestors that you ought to have representing you in one hundred genera tions you need thirty-one figures, as follows: 2,835,301,200,456,45880993400,10,750. You will say, "That is impossible." The population of the earth is now only Alfthen hundred millions and that is maak greater than wa the populatima one hundred generations ago. Quite true. But while multiplying our ancestors 4.6.16, etc., glyes us fantastio figures as we go bask, we also realise that going back to a single couple ad allow. lng for constant increase we should get other Agures eeuafy pumiing. But at least it IS A FACT that twenty generations ago every one of us had MORN than two millen actual living anoestors. Zt wpsebanfar mmht dsswhen. aaeiart AT STANDS You Are- the LITTLE Man in This Picture, or if You're a Woman, let Your Mind Change the Picture to a Huge Woman and a Little Woman, Then YOU Are the Little Woman. In Your Body, Your Brain, Your Character, You Can Find All That Is in the Giant, Whose Arm Stretches Out Behind You, and the scientists, our ancestors were microscopic creatures floating in salt water, then the number was more than sufficient to answer the purpose of progressive arithmetic. The giant in this picture is locked up today in your brain, in your blood, in the many billions of cells,'each living, breathing, eating, drinking, that make up your body; in the fifteen hundred million blood corpuscles that travel night and day through your veins and arteries. There are, undoubtedly, sleeping in your brain millions of ancestral characteristics, thoughts, possibili ties, passions and powers of which you are totally un conscious. You know that beautiful m'usic, sinking deep into your mind, wakens thoughts, emotions, enthusiasm and love of goodness that sometimes amase you. This means that the beauty of harmony, penetrating the brain, brings Into life all the goodness and nobility of soul Inherited through hundreds of centuries. You know that Shaler, the learned Zarvard pro fessor, in his book on the "Mob," tells how easily, with proper provocation, a gathering of. virtuous clergymen might be transformed into a lynching mob. Provocation would bring to life, in the brains of those good men, savag, ancestors beyond their controL. Watoh aman at aprise fhtor adogafght. 3is fa.., .as he-looks on, Is every bit as bruta as the faces of the fighting men or dogs. Be. the same man beside the bed of his sick child, all the ferocity is gone, only tender pity lines in his ex pr-on. Look at the giant back of you, spleadidly shown by. MsOay in his ortoon. Remember that this giant Is TIN REAL YOU, the thing you must rule to control yourself. Realise fully the power stored up In your brain and handed down by your ancestors through thousands of satuis BEHIND Y All That Is Written in the Great Book of Your Ancestors' Past Lives. For This Great Figure kepresentrAll Your Ancestors. What You Call "Myself" Is a Composite Made Up of Millions of Ancestors. And Everyone Has Contributed Something to the Per sonality That Works Now Through YOUR Mind to Influence the World in a Big or Little Way. EVERY experience of EVERY one of those anoestors has its effect on you today. The barbarian is shown in cruelty called forth by the prize fight. The gentleness of mothers is shown in tender- sym pathy aroused by the sight of a sick child. Miserliness reflects the ancient fear of hunger and want. Immoral tendencies, aroused by evil associations, and eliminated by contemplation of noble character, express days and habits long gone by. Millions of ancestors, and their millions of lives, thoughts and actions, are locked up in our brains. Some are good, some evil, not one is ALL good or ALL evil. There Is the complex man, well represented by the American citizen; complex becanse the giant ancestor back of him has lived in many lands, under many laws, through many conditions. The man of Italian blood has within him the crowds that watched the gladiators in the arens. The Baxon contains' ancestors whose delight was bear-baiting and fighting. The Scaedinavian has in the back of his head anolent lines of pirates that used the top of the human skull as a cup from which to drink the blood of eneuies. No wonder strange things are done in strange ways among us. If you, with your eyes shut, choosing at random, were to open some cage in the menageti., you need not be surprised If a hyena came out, nor surpuised If a gentle gaselle slipped through the gate, or a chattering monkey. Sudden situations in lifle open in our brains and thoughts the onge In which our anuats ansters are deaad Now many of those ancestors come to the surface in your dreams, creating thoughts that you would not tolerate or harbor in waking hours? Now many impulses come to you when awake, im pulses that must instantly be checked by the po*er of the will? What a difference between the average American, French, Italian, English, German, Danish type, every one a complicated mixture, and the savage whose ancestors have lived for generations in the same place, under the same conditions! The difference is based on the fact that back of the modem complicated man there stands an ancestry that has BEEN and DONE and LIVED through everything. In the savage, whose thought, or lack of thought, can be fairly well calculated In advance, there lives an ancestry monotonous and uniform. The main thought in your mind as you look at this picture is that you, as you stand, an an extraordinary human menagerie, with millis of different brains, characters, impulses, weaknesses and strength locked up inside of you. You are the keeper of a great human menagerie, and you ARE THE MZNAGERIE. The problem is to be really the KIUPER, not the plaything, of that menagerie. The showman brings out and displays ithat animals he chooses. The librarian has ten thousand books. He brings forward those that are most useful, withholding those that might be harmfuL. Not altogether, but to a great extent, we can do the same with the ancestral menagerie inside of us. We can recognise the good and the evil and encourage the one and hold dow the other If we will. Road again the well-known lines by Henley: Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit frm pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my uncon querrble souL It matters not how strait the gate Row charged with punishmjrents the scroll, 1gam the master of mu fate, l am the captain of my soul. Very good lines. But remember that any man who Is really the CAPTAIN OF HIS SOUL Is the captain of a DIG anw. Mr. Ko~ay's cartoon shows the size of the crew, very much reduced, in the figure standing behind the little man. If you oa be the captain of THAT crew, the real bors and ruler of the millions that live looked up in you brain, yeu are a good captain. It Is worth trying.