Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1924-04-15
HarmOnieS of Our Hidden Self
BY DR.. Frank Crane

W HO can tell the hormonies Of the spirit,
| wv or understand the unconscious re-
sponses of the soul? 1t may be face
or flower, a night-cry or the scream Of a
distant locomotive that sets the Jingle of
| forgotten emotions going or fills you, you
know not why, with acute pain, as if for an
unknown sin, or with emptiness and longing,
| as if for an unknown love-
The soul of man is very wide and wonder
| full There are Mammoth Caves in it that have
never been explored. There are black, still
flowing rivers that have never been fathom-
| ed There are glistening Himalayas that
| have never been scaled There are poles
| where conscious thought has never penetrat-
| ed and there are wild, fever troplc paupas.
And in all these regions that lie outside
! tho hounds where our ordinary sensations
| cluster there are strange creatures, our hid
den selyes-selSes we hardly know or not
| at all
In the caves are unacknowledged fears,
| thin-winged timidities, that iutter in u.s. but
scamper like bats when we turn on the llght.
! In the souls cellar eyeless doubts, dumo
and brainess prejudices, stupid Fasoldts ana
! Fafners of belief In our inner DISMAL
| Swamps we hide our possible crimes, our
| beast-selves, hfdeOus selves of lust ana greco,
| of hate and blood-thirst.
If YOU turn over an old log which has lain
| long in the woods, you will discover many
white, boodless insects, who have been Nv
| Ing there in the cool darkness. If you were
to take the lid from soul, what curious
| things you would see.
1t is when we honestly look into ourselves
that we learn what mistake 1t Is TO call
| some men good and others bad. These are
not terms to be applied to persons put TO
parts of persons. Dr. Jekyll was good, and
! Mr. HYDE was bad, only they were the same
! man Nothing so blinds our judgment as
| the habit of assuming that each person has
! a character"
"Give a dog bad name and hang him.
| We send one man to the penitentiary for life,
/ and sentence another man for life to the
| episcopacy, under the delusion that the one
| is permanently bad and the other incurably
! good. SO we batten down the I'D forever
! upon the wretched sefshness of my lord
| bishop and upon the holiness and noblenesS
! of Convict Number Thirteen. Both continue
to exist but as white, Gravity, suppressed
! things.
| Because there are so many selves in this
self. there come many moods Today my
| heart seems full of roses and sunrlses. ea-
terday it was rue and willows.
| What was it in you that was set a-trem-
bling when you heard the tread-tread and
| looking out of the window saw the soldiers
marching? What forgotten tragedy stirred
! in it's tomb? Or was it the heartbreak OF
| some ancestor that echoed in your blood?
| Mother seems sad today. There IS a rea-
son. All is we'll with the household. The
| sun is shining. Spring is in the air. why
| does she withdraw to her room and SIT pen
! sive? Let her alone. There is a little grave
| in her heart, and today the lilies are JleH-
| ing upon it.
If we knew how vast is the soul We would
! respect more one anOther's moods.
| If we knew the infinite chords of the hui
man hearts wild harp we would be less
| startled its outlandsh melodies.
If we knew all our suppressed selves we
should never judge our neighbOr.
| If we knew the inside history of the other
| man We should never envy him.
! Charity, humility, and grandeur OF spiri;
| come from the knowledge of ourselves.
/ Copyright, 1920