Chapter III: Part 3

* * * * *

The timid are the most impressionable, and can be cured of fearthought by intelligent, persistent, counter-suggestion.

Impressibility is as powerful an aid to good or right suggestion as it is to bad or false suggestion. Differently used, an element of weakness becomes an element of strength. In a matter of mind-accomplishment no one need say "I can't," for mind is what it most earnestly wishes to be.

Limiting weaknesses there are, at present, but these are generally found in asylums. A crusade against fearthought would, within one generation, make asylums unnecessary.

Average intelligence can be cleared of fearthought. A crusade against fearthought would immeasurably raise the average of intelligence.

Let no one deprecate himself or his fellows as to his or their possibilities. The timid may become courageous; the weak may become strong; the sick may become well, and the unhappy may become happy, by the reversal of the attitude of their energy toward life's problems.

_Courage is a birthright._

* * * * *

Fearlessness of death insures the strongest love of life.

No one can know what it is to appreciate life at its best until he has ceased to have any suspicion of dread of death.

No one can realize the keenest enjoyment of life until he has grown to _feel_--_appreciate_--that this life is an important stage of an evolutionary process, in which the dawning of spiritual possibilities opens up the realm of divine existence to him, and introduces to his consciousness that _appreciation of God which gives birth to love, growth and happiness_.

When fearthought is entirely eradicated from the mind by the elimination of the basic fear--the fear of death--man begins to _feel_ the responsibility of growing his best, of ripening in natural manner, and of dropping into the lap of Mother Earth only when he has instilled into himself the richest and sweetest juices of an appreciative and altruistic life.

_Fear not Death if you would know and love life._

* * * * *

Mother-thought is the strongest of all thought.

Voluntary motherhood is the bravest of all acts common in life.

Whoever teaches a child to be fearless, builds greater than she can ever know, for fearlessness in one inspires courage in many; and as courage inspires strength and causes action, there is no end to what may grow out of the fearless influence of the frailest and physically weakest of women, and any young mother, in the quiet and seclusion of a modest home, can set in motion vibrations of strength and fearlessness that may result in the building of a great city or the invention of some world-emancipating tool of progress.

All great accomplishments can be traced back to mother-influence. Mother-muscle may be wanting, but mother-thought rules the world.

Mother-thought is always brave-thought in _one_ emergency, and therefore _can be strong in all_ emergencies.

Mother-thought rules the world.

_Mother-thought blesses life._

* * * * *

All water is pure water.

It is impurities within water that muddy it.

All men are innately good.

It is the presence of false impressions, the result of false suggestions, that makes men selfish and bad.

There is no impurity in water that cannot be removed by some means within the reach of chemistry, and there is likewise no bad suggestion impressed on a sane human mind that cannot be counteracted by some right and good suggestion.

In your judgment of men, judge the sum of their opportunities and the quality of their environing atmosphere, and not the individuals themselves. It will aid you to a more just appreciation of the possible goodness of your neighbors, and greatly help to conserve your own happiness, through the diffusion of the warm blood of charitable impulse.

_Mould conditions aright, and men will grow good to fit them._

* * * * *

The perfect man is the harmonious man.

The perfection of anything is dependent upon the perfection of all its parts.

Good society is made up of good individuals; individuals are measured by their qualities of mind and character; and mind and character are pure and good according as their constituent elements are pure and good.

Fearthought is a weak element of mind and its influence on character is blighting.

In chemistry and in mechanics we analyse and test with greatest care the material we use, to learn its value as related to our purpose. If it have any element of weakness we discard it.

Measure, and weigh well, thought about the future; if it partake of fearthought, expel it from the mind, for it is evil; if it be filled with strength, and hope, and confidence, nurse it tenderly, for it is good.

_Harmony is strength._

* * * * *

Forethought is strong thought.

Fearthought is weak thought.

Nervousness is frequently discreditable, and, therefore, not-respectable.

Nervousness is the "scapegoat" for much cowardice, ignorance and perversion, sometimes of prenatal, but generally of post-natal, origin. It is not as respectable as scrofula, for the reason that scrofula may have been inherited or contracted by the accident or evil doing of another, and can be corrected only by process of regeneration; while nervousness is an expression or reflection of fearthought which can be corrected by one's own right-thinking.

Whoever is not nervous when he is asleep _need not be_ nervous when he is awake.

Eminent physicians have recently authorized the above assertions relative to nervousness. If it is evil and unnecessary, it is, therefore, not-respectable.

_When nervous, seek within the habit-of-thought for a cause._

* * * * *

Attraction rules the universe.

The rivalry between attraction and counter-attraction is friendly.

Evolution is the result of being attracted to increase and to growth, and not the result of being _pushed_ to growth.

All plant life inclines towards the light and the sun.

Plant life that is strong enough to withstand the storms, turns its back in protest to the wind.

Pessimists snarlingly assert that attraction is the _pushing of desire_ for change, but pessimists are diseased themselves, and therefore call things by wrong names, and give the wrong construction to everything.

Appreciation and resultant Love are caused by attraction, and not by fear.

Whatever is attracted forward or upward, will remain in advance or above.

Forethought is eagerly receptive and seeks progress through attraction.

Fearthought _pushes_ to action by its own cowardice, and accomplishes nothing useful.

_Altruism is a powerful magnet; good men are "as true as steel."_

* * * * *

Consideration is practical altruism.

Consideration for others is evidenced by desiring to do for them what is most desired by them, or, what is best for them. It _assumes_ no superiority.

Consideration is "catching," and the easiest way to accomplish one's own desires, in connection with others, is to suggest consideration by consideration.

No one ever "lost a trick, or missed a meal," by being considerate; and simple, unaffected consideration has often been the means of adding great possessions to its own richness.

"After you," will unravel a crowd quicker than any pushing to be first.

Fearthought, and the selfishness growing out of it, are the origin of all lack of consideration for others; and contact with others, and the every-day amenities of life furnish constant opportunity for attacking one of the strongest expressions of the disease of fearthought by practice of altruistic consideration.

_The first requisite of gentility is consideration._

* * * * *

Happy Day!

"Good morrow," "good day," "good morning," and "good evening," were originally intended to have the same significance as our opening salutation, but now they have generally become stale and mean no more than "how are y--" "how d'y" and other perfunctory greetings that are ridiculous when rendered with an inflection that resembles a grunt.

Elsewhere it is related how "happy day" is used in some families to greet the morning.

What humanity is suffering from is a restriction of affections, and an effusion of fears.

People are afraid of being frank and therefore cultivate the sulks, suffer and become ill from the repression.

If you cannot greet the morning and likewise every living thing and every inanimate thing that there is with "Happy Day," you had better take medicine for the trouble, for you are really ill.

_Happy Day!_

* * * * *

Forethought is Optimism.

All good men are optimists.

The contrastive definitions of "optimism," and "pessimism" and "content," as given by Rev. Dr. Newel Dwight Hillis in an address on optimism, which the author had the pleasure of hearing, are in themselves an epitome of good suggestion relative to the profitable attitude toward the past, the present and the future.

Said Dr. Hillis, "The pessimist cries, 'all is ill, and nothing can be well'; the idle dreamer assumes that 'all is well,' but the optimist declares that 'all has not been ill, and all has not been well--all is not ill, and all is not well--but all _can be_ and therefore _shall be_ well.'"

Appreciation of ever-present blessings--the sun, the birds, the perfume of the flowers, the mist, the constant changes in the aspect of nature, the love of friends, the hurdles that are met and cleared at a bound, and even the obstructions that Providence places in the _wrong road_, make them all seem to chant in chorus,--"No matter what has been; no matter what is; all _can be_ and _shall be_ well."

_Optimism is life._

* * * * *

Fearthought inspires Pessimism.

Pessimism is a false prophet.

It would certainly seem to be in the interest of freedom if the utterances of evil foreboding and pessimistic prophesy were frowned upon, if pessimists were avoided as lepers are avoided, and if their effect on growth and development were to measure the merit or demerit of thoughts or teachings, as well as of actions.

Society's duty toward the individual is wisely to prevent him from doing harm, either to himself or to others. All experience teaches that pessimism is generally lying prophesy. To prohibit false prophesy, that can only injure both the maker and the hearer of it, would seem, then, to be not only the right, but the duty, of society. To prohibit bad suggestion as well as bad action, when action is known to be but materialized or realized suggestion, would seem to be a duty of society.

_Pessimism is poison._

* * * * *

"Perfect Love Casteth out Fear."

But:

Perfect Love cannot exist until Fear is _first cast out_.

* * * * *

Forethought is essential to cultivation and happiness.

But:

_Fearthought in forethought_ prevents cultivation and kills happiness.

* * * * *

Fear is Habit-of-Fearthought only, and is self-imposed, or imported.

It is, therefore:

Unnecessary.

* * * * *

Fearthought, being unnecessary, is a weak, or a cowardly, self-infliction.

It is, therefore:

Not-Respectable.

* * * * *

Fearthought, the arch-enemy of mankind, can be eliminated from the Habit-of-Thought--can be entirely eradicated.

But:

NOT BY REPRESSION.

* * * * *

Man, equipped with _divine selection_, is the only cultivator in Nature. Nature does all growing herself, and assigns all cultivating to Man.

But:

He cultivates only through removing deterrents to growth.

* * * * *

Man's value, as assistant in evolution, consists in his ability to create harmonic conditions favorable to growth through the exercise of _divine selection_.

But:

He secures perfect harmony only by first harmonizing himself.

* * * * *

Happiness is "the aim and the end of existence."

But:

Happiness can rest only in Harmony, Appreciation, Love and Altruism.

* * * * *

Happiness is "The Greatest Thing in the World."

But:--_If sought aright_,

IT IS EASIER THAN NOT!

SUGGESTIONS IN MENTICULTURE.

STOP IMPORTING; OR ERADICATION VERSUS REPRESSION.

The attitude of Man towards his weaknesses is commonly that of repression. He assumes that fearthought, and fear, and anger, and worry, and all of the evil passions are inherent things that may be repressed but not eradicated; modified but not eliminated; kept under partial control but not gotten rid of; and cut down below the surface, so as not to be exposed to the world, but not rooted out entirely.

By some persons it is even thought to be an accomplishment of great merit to acknowledge strong roots of carnal weakness and to then succeed in hiding any outward expression of them. In others, equally well-meaning, the aggressive and consumptive passions are nursed and exhibited as evidences of unusual sensitiveness and virility appertaining to fineness, goodness and greatness. It is not long since it was the custom of clergymen in some denominations to assume unworthiness for themselves in order to glorify the redeeming power of the Saviour, notwithstanding all of Christ's teachings inculcated that true forgiveness consisted in the simple process of _ceasing to have_--ceasing to admit, or import. When, in former times, priesthood was degraded to a business--an occupation for a living, or for convenience or power--it was natural that the difficulty of the service rendered the laity by the priests should be exaggerated so as to command the highest respect, the greatest power and the largest compensation. Sin was made to seem powerful and ever-present in order that the service rendered in keeping it in check might seem important and everlasting. Under such circumstances, and especially when the one great unpardonable sin against the church was that of doubting the teachings of these teachers, how almost impossible must it have been for the laity to rise superior to evil, when those whose profession it was to combat it, found it so potent an enemy, and who, thereby, filled the atmosphere of thought with dense clouds of evil suggestion.

It is fortunate for the present generation that such shadows of suggestion do not hopelessly oppress it. There are many churches now where appreciation, and love, and purity, and the delights of unselfishness are offered as the attractions towards religion, and where the teachers in them stand for examples of pure thinking, pure living, and spontaneous altruism, practiced as a result of natural impulses that are both agreeable and profitable, and not to save from hell or to fit for a remote heaven. But the shadow of the old method, that so long hid the Christ-method of true thinking and living, still has an influence in giving strength to evil to afflict the weaker sons of our civilization. This shadow, however, cannot long remain. The light of the present awakening is too strong--too electric and too penetrating--to permit it to remain.

It is even looked upon now as a curiosity--a relic of antiquity--to hear the old fears given expression from the pulpit, but root eradication of them is not yet insisted upon as the first and most important teaching, as it should be. It is a common thing now, also, to hear altruistic teaching and optimistic preaching from the pulpits of all denominations, and to hear from the teachers and preachers the assurance that "it is easier than not and more profitable in every way to be unselfish and not to tolerate evil," the new good suggestion of which, is the inspiring assertion that, "_it is easier than not_."

It would be a rare thing now to find a religious teacher of intelligence who would not agree with the assertion that, when a person is angry, he cannot be, at the moment, a Christian, for being angry is as unchristian as profanity. The same condemnation applies to worry, which is especially commanded against, and which, in the light of the observed promises of God as expressed by the preponderance of the prevalence of good, is not less than blasphemous in its exhibition of lack of confidence in, and appreciation of, the Giver of All Good.

A most helpful thought in connection with the easy subjugation of the _animalesque_ expressions of fearthought is, that they are not inherent things, and that they are imported whenever suffered. The tendency to import is inherent, and the _tendency_ to entertain evil is the shadow of past error in the race which is called race-habit-of-thought, and it is that which has to be replaced by right-habit-of-thought before one is entirely free, but tendency is easily overcome when its parents are discredited and made not-respectable thereby.

The spiritual awakening of the present era that is reclaiming Christianity from the supernatural, or unnatural, and applying it to everyday affairs, may be called practical or business Christianity. A business man who has an occupation wherein it is possible for him to be altruistic, after reading the theory that is the contention of _Menticulture_, wrote a commentary in which he said: "On these precepts not only 'hang all of the law and the prophets,' but, also, common business sense and _all of the profits_."

As an illustration of the difference between eradication (or filtration) and repression (or gradual dilution or reform) I will cite a common example: Suppose a vessel to be filled with muddy water which we wish to make clear, so that it will perfectly reflect the ether above, which we call the sky; the easy and effective method is first to pass the water through a filter and thereafter to protect it from contamination. On the contrary, the difficult, expensive, endless and, therefore ineffective method is to pour unlimited clear water into the vessel, in order to gradually replace the muddy water with the excess of pure water.

While it is true that "perfect love casteth out fear," it also is true that there can be no perfect love until there is first perfect freedom from fear, so that the right way to approach the problem of creating the harmonious condition in the human mind wherein growth ripens in happiness, is to take the mind when it is returned to us at the moment of awaking from sleep, when it has been purified by contact with Spiritual Cerebration, and protect it from that time forth through each day, by refusing _to import_ suspicion, anger or worry into it, a process that is _easier than not_, and pleasanter and more profitable than any.

Each day, the tendency to import, which is the only part of the process of eradication that is in any way real, will become less strong, and, with even the weakest attempts to discourage it; but if you are sufficiently in earnest to say, "Begone, you tempter," and thereby slam the door in his face, you will accomplish freedom at once.

The self-infliction of fearthought is a shoveling-in process--all that you have to do to become free from it is to stop shoveling. It is easier to stop importing fearthought, and anger, and worry, and suspicion, than it is to import them; therefore,

_Stop importing!_

THE IMPOTENCE OF PAIN.

During the Japanese-Chinese war, two Japanese students were arrested in Shanghai on the charge of espionage, and were taken to Ningpo and tortured to death.

The method of torture was the most cruel known, and included a slow crushing of the most sensitive parts of their anatomy.

The young patriots displayed such heroism under the torture that the incident gave rise to considerable discussion as to the relative sensitiveness of the Mongolian and the Caucasian races to pain. The consensus of the opinion that I saw expressed, which was, by the way, Caucasian opinion only, was that the Oriental was less sensitive, and therefore was not entitled to as much credit for withstanding pain as the self-adjudged, more-sensitive Westerner.

The truth of the matter is, that there is a limit to actual pain within the power of any one to endure, if the element of fearthought-of-more-pain is eliminated, so that the absorbing heroism of the patriot--almost courting torture for the honor of his cause--puts the element of fearthought out of the case, and leaves only the actual sensation to be suffered. Pain is undoubtedly intended as a warning of disordered conditions, and not as a punishment, and, having performed its mission, is relieved by a kind paralysis before the shock is too severe for human endurance.

This is the beneficent provision of the natural law, but when it comes to the exercise of unnatural fearthought, there is no limit to the torture a victim may impose upon himself, and, on a basis of a very little real pain, build up most terrible suffering.

The author has tested the truth of this assertion personally.

Being condemned to submit to a dental operation of unusual severity, the opportunity to experiment was gladly availed of, even at the expense of comfort.

One special aggravation of the operation was the prying open of the mouth, in order to build up from the root one of the teeth located farthest back in the mouth. The mouth was not large enough to suit the facile convenience of the dentist, and hence he made use of all the skill and power he possessed to enlarge the cavity, and having stretched it to the utmost, firm wedges held it open, without possibility of protest, for three hours on a stretch; and on these instruments and conditions of torture I had ample opportunity to experiment; so sufficient--for all practical purposes--that I do not feel it necessary to repeat the experiment, even in the interest of scientific investigation.

The experiment proved, however, my contention, that even the greatest possible pain is of itself not very severe, and that it requires but a slight diversion to make one forget it, for the time being, entirely. I was able, at any moment of the combined irritation, to concentrate my mind upon some subject or object, and to lose the sense of pain out of my consciousness altogether--and at will.

Major General O. O. Howard, U. S. A. (retired) has recently corroborated, to the author, out of his own experience, the possibility of forgetting pain through slight diversion. He lost an arm during the Civil War, and in the process of recovery some of the nerve-ends were not properly cicatrized, so that ever since the wound healed the General has not been free from the sensation of pain, whenever his mind has reverted to it, and yet he is able at any time to forget it by change of thought.

In like manner, fear-of-trouble is the major part of all the so-called trouble that is experienced. As intimated in the "definitions," under the caption of "Trouble," there are few real conditions that are very uncomfortable, if apprehension of still more uncomfortable conditions is not imported to exaggerate the existing discomfort. Fear of freezing to death or of drowning may be made very terrible, for instance, whereas the end in freezing and in drowning is known to be so comfortable, and even blissful, that those who are on the point of passing out of life by those means dislike to be called back to life again.

The heroism of mothers in the event of child-birth is too well known to call for reference, but there is the greatest difference in the ease or in the discomfort of the condition attending the process, which is largely influenced by the feeling of welcome or the attitude of aversion with which the new-comer is greeted by the mother.

The point-of-view has much to do with the sting of pain. Whoever has suffered that severest of all spankings, the water spanking incident to a clumsy dive, or a wrongly-calculated somersault into the water from a wharf, or from a natatorium springboard, will remember that the pain of it is not half so hard to bear as the form of parental correction called by the same name, that in itself is not nearly so severe.

Sensitiveness to pain is largely due to the fear of pain, and a reversal of the accustomed attitude towards fear will have an immediate effect upon the severity of pain by mitigating much of its sting. Christian scientists, mental scientists, spiritual scientists, faith curists, and all others who practice mental therapeutics in physical diseases, escape much suffering in this way, and the happy result of this attitude towards pain serves to strengthen their faith.

Whatever the cause of the relief, it is good, for it teaches, in a most practical way, the potency of thought in overcoming, or, dismissing, real pain as well as all imaginary evil, and also the possibility of eliminating fearthought from the mental equipment, by showing how impotent to harm are the realities that inspire it, when it is prevented from exaggerating them.

UNHAPPY UNLESS MISERABLE.

There are some persons, in fact, a great many persons, who are not happy unless they have real or fancied cause for complaint. Martyrdom is the recreation of such people and they are liable to be more greedy for recreation than those whose recreation is of a joyous sort.

It is certainly a misplaced kindness to impose unwelcome attentions on any one. In the category of nuisances unwelcome attentions are perhaps the most disagreeable, and to cram joy down the maw of one who has no taste for it, is as rude, and even vulgar, as insisting that he shall eat something that is nauseating to him.

It is true that persons who gloat over misery; who love to mope about in grave-yards; and are forever telling grewsome tales for the supposed delectation of their victims, are not as agreeable to others as they seem to be to themselves, and their presence at festivals and other ostensibly joyous occasions may be looked on as discordant, and, as such, out of place.

In these times of license, which are sometime mistaken for times of unusual liberty, it is not for anyone to define what is altogether bad, nor to confine good, nor good taste, within too narrow limits; neither is it generous to prescribe anything that shall be universally eaten or worn; and, above all liberties, the liberty to wear a smile or a frown should prevail; but it is within the province of organized society to put its stamp of approval or disapproval on the time and place for appropriate use of them. Certain costumes are suitable in certain places and not suitable in others. For example, the bathing suit and the night-robe have uses that are appropriate for their special purposes, but they would not be tolerated on the street by the police, and it would be no greater curtailment of liberty to order that frowns shall be worn only in dark places and not be permitted to cloud the sunlight, than that undue levity should be tabooed on occasions considered to be serious. If such prescription were to be imposed, it would be necessary, of course, to furnish dark places at appropriate, or, rather, convenient intervals, for the use of the miserably inclined, in the same way that spittoons are provided for the use of those who must expectorate sputum.

Liberty is so precious a thing that it must be protected as the holiest of our possessions, and even if it lap over into the debatable ground sometimes called license, it should yet be protected, and therefore the permission to wear frowns in appropriate places and to enjoy being miserable in the privacy of one's own chamber should be respected; on the street, or anywhere in public, however, they should not be tolerated, for they are harmful generally, and particularly injurious to children.

As individuals, those of us who accept God's promises as truths, who prefer to live in the sunlight rather than in a cave, who glorify Appreciation as the first and best suggestion in the language, who believe that growth is the object of life, that its fallow field is harmony, and that its fruit is happiness, and also those of us who, by comparison of conditions have learned to believe that our pessimistic friends can be happier than they are, and can become better companions and citizens by a change of attitude towards life, although we may not pass laws of restriction against the frown-habit or against the misery-habit, can use the gentle method of counter-suggestion to good effect, and even go so far as to laugh at and otherwise ridicule the misery-habit, if by thus doing we may possibly correct that which logic has failed to cure.

From long observation it has become evident that the misery-habit feeds on sympathy. Children, who are the best examples of honest expression that we have, whereby to see ourselves in an unartificial light, will not continue a mad or a surly crying spell if they are sure it is not producing a sympathetic effect. If they think they are not heard they will at once cease crying. In the same way, grown persons who practice the misery-habit in public take a rest when they are unobserved. They try to hide it, but they are frequently caught in the act of unbuttoning their pouts, and thereby allowing their faces a rest, as soon as they have thought themselves out of sight. We must believe, if this observation be correct, that the object of pessimism, or, the misery-habit, is generally to secure, by dishonest means, selfish attentions that are not earned, and for which no value is given. There are cases no doubt where the misery-habit has been acquired by contact with respected ones who have been the cause of perverse suggestions too strong to be resisted, and for such there can only be pity, and in the cure of whom gentle and loving suggestion should be used, but to the perverse and the chronic practicers of the misery-habit, no toleration is good, for it is on that, and unmerited sympathy, that they live and thrive. On such, all of the misery possible to be scraped up from the discords of life should be dumped, and they should be condemned to herd together, and if it were possible, they should be isolated, as lepers are isolated, from healthy society.

Sometimes the victim of the misery-habit practices the habit only within the family. This is especially severe on the family, and is much more difficult to treat. The family is at once the seat of the greatest liberty, and the home and breeding-ground of the greatest tyranny. The family is supposed to be under the holy protection of the divine principle of love, but if that principle is not a possession of the family, there is no protection whatever from most inhuman practices, but instead a license to the cultivation of most discordant passions. It is in the family that mollygrubs are grown and tolerated. It is in the family that one cannot get rid of them by running away, for the family, like the poor, you have with you always. And who would have it otherwise? The whole tendency of civilization is to appreciate the family more and more, and to cultivate respect for the family model as the basis of good government. But it is the very security of the natural, and therefore indissoluble, bonds that gives the selfishly inclined opportunity to practice the misery-habit without fear of being thrown out, left behind, cremated or otherwise gotten rid of, as dead and disagreeable matter is usually treated, in civilized communities.

The symptoms of the misery-habit, or martyr-habit, are easy to detect, for while they may be cultivated and laboriously practiced in private, they are intended to be seen, and are displayed at times when they are calculated to be most conspicuous. The victim of the martyr-habit is usually an industrious person. He, or possibly she, will perform any amount of necessary, and even unnecessary, manual labor, in order to exhibit martyr-like fatigue; is always hanging behind in order to be slighted; condemns attentions honestly intended as perfunctory politeness; interprets praise as being patronage; finds any part of a chicken served him at the family table the worst piece, and at the same time assures the carver that he has been unduly partial or over-generous--but, with a tone of voice or an expression of countenance that belies the utterance. A common phrase of the afflicted martyrite is, "Don't mind me," and hysterics is the favorite amusement, while pain and trouble are the chief stock in trade. And is there a remedy? Yes.

If Christianity were to be measured by the optimism of the Master, if the gauge of optimism prescribed by the Master were to be used to measure professing Christians for the name; if cause and effect were to be placed in their true relation to each other, and the ills we cultivate were to be classed as self-imposed causes and not effects; and if the unnecessary and unprofitable were to be ranked as not-respectable; the misery-habit or martyr-habit would cease to be fashionable, mollygrubs would disappear, and the principal breeding-ground of pessimism--the family--would be purified, as becoming to its holy office.

THOU SHALT NOT STRIKE A WOMAN.

If a queer sort of human being, dressed in a costume we had never seen before, and hailing from some island we had never heard of, were to land on our shores and ask our protection and the privilege of teaching the religion of his people; if he were to learn our language sufficiently to convey his ideas to us; if he were to have printed the formulas of his religion, and, among them, his deity's commandments to men; if the first of these commandments were to read, "Thou shalt not strike a woman," what would we say to such a commandment? and what would we think of a people who found it necessary to have such a formula?

Our question would naturally be, "Do the people of your country _ever_ strike women?"

In our particular state of chivalric civilization, striking women is one of the things so entirely out of the question that we do not consider it even a possibility, except in cases of insanity or of drunkenness, where the brute of the moment is not responsible for his action.

The very fact of its being an impossible, and therefore unmentionable, crime is the strongest suggestion against it.

If "Thou shalt not strike a woman" were listed in the category of commandments, and were constantly repeated as something hard to resist, and hence commanded against, I believe the crime would become common in circles where it is not thought of as possible now.

The best thing to do with a condemned thing is to cover it up, seal it up, and relegate it to the custody of the awful, unwritten law of unanimous disapproval.

It is said that when the Jesuit fathers went to Japan at the end of the sixteenth century they were warmly welcomed, and not only were permitted but invited to teach their religion.

One of the first things they did was to have the ten commandments of the old Mosaic law printed in Japanese, in the form of what we call a tract, and distributed among the people.

Reading was then, as now, a common accomplishment with the Japanese, and they were interested in the tract. They did not quite understand its purport, however, and one of their number was delegated to ask for an explanation.

Japan is the land, above all others, where poetry and flowers and idealism and art and other refinements are cherished and appreciated. Poetry, in Japan, is sometimes so idealistic that it is somewhat vague to any but the poet. It is the custom, therefore, to consider that anything not quite comprehensible must be poetry; and not understanding the tract of the fathers, the Japanese naturally thought it to be a specimen of Portuguese poetry.

Approaching one of the fathers, the spokesman of the people bowed with accustomed politeness and said: "I trust you will pardon the wretched ignorance and dullness of my humble self, but the great interest of my companions, as well of myself, in your poem, impels us to ask you to interpret to us the great depth of its beauteous crystalline sweetness, in order that we may enjoy it as it is worthy of being enjoyed."

The father was shocked to hear his sacred commandments classed as worldly poetry, and, drawing himself up to the full impressiveness of holy indignation, replied, "That is not poetry; that is what our God commands that we _must not_ do."

"Sayo de go zarimasu, gomen na sai," answered the spokesman in the polite idiom of his country; "but--_do the people of your country ever do these things?_"

Whether the Japanese are, or were three hundred years ago, as exempt from evil as the enquiry about the ten commandments would imply, matters not. The rebuke was well merited and taught a great, good lesson. We are the sum of our impressions, and the suggestions we receive from experience are the source of our impressions. Some suggestions are so respected that they make deep impressions, notably the suggestions given us by our parents at our most impressionable age; but all suggestions have some weight, and to such purpose that a thing we know to be untrue becomes a reality to us by constant repetition, as attested by the common expression, "He has told that story so many times that he has come to believe it himself."

There is scarcely any difference of opinion about the justice of the ten commandments; but the constant repetition of "_you must not_" is like shaking a red rag before a wild bull, to many self-assertive children; whereas, if the things to be commanded against were understood to be _impossible_, and therefore _unmentionable_, the commandments would come to fit crimes that had become as much out of date to us now as is the crime of striking women.

We have constant evidence of the fact that beliefs, or, rather, habits-of-belief, follow persistent assertion, and that character is largely molded by existing formulas as well as other influences of our environment.

Without desire to criticise the formulas of any creeds, except in the way of counter-suggestion, I would ask, "What would be the probable effect of teaching the constant repetition of the eleventh commandment in place of the older ten?--'A new commandment I give unto you, that you love one another.'" It is impossible to love and to hate at the same time. It is impossible to obey the eleventh commandment and disobey any of the ten at the same time. Is it not better practice of suggestion, in order to form habit-of-thought, to repeat the eleventh commandment eleven times, than to repeat each of the ten once and the eleventh only once?

It is true that the easy way to attain good is to _cease to have evil_, but, it is a poor way to cease to have evil to nurse it in the memory as a thing _difficult not to have_.

If there is to be repetition of anything, it is better that it should be of such suggestions as "Appreciation" and "Love."

The mind is as amenable to the force of habit as are any of the physical members of the body. The soul is much more amenable to suggestion than either, for it is much more impressionable. If you were teaching a child to play the piano, would you have him run all the scales, or, rather, combinations of notes that do not form scales, that are to be avoided in music, in order to teach him the habit of _not_ playing them? Would it be good teaching to have him habituate his fingers to the sequence of false scales as well as to the sequence of true scales? May not the constant repetition of the commandments that refer to lewd practices suggest thoughts about lewdness that never would come to young minds by other means, and therefore taint pure thought, in brutal fashion, by vile suggestion?

THE POINT-OF-VIEW.

Suppose two men of equal physical strength were to start in a thousand-mile bicycle race. Suppose one of the men were to greet the passing of each mile-post in this wise: "Only nine hundred and ninety-nine miles more; only nine hundred and ninety miles more," or whatever the distance covered might be at the time. Suppose the other were to greet the same mile-posts otherwise, as "only one mile;" or, "hang it, only ten miles." Which racer would win?

In effect, one of the men would be going down hill and the other would be going up hill, and just that difference of approach would win the race for the person who was rolling down from one thousand miles to one mile, from the person who was struggling along the upward course from one mile to a thousand miles.

Suppose two men were to each feel a pain in the joint of his big toe. Suppose one of the attacked ones were to greet the pain as follows: "Well! I suppose that means the gout, and I am to be afflicted for the balance of my life with that horrible disease. What have I done to deserve such a fate? I suppose some of my ancestors are responsible for this, but I will have to suffer for it all the same." Suppose the other victim were to greet the same symptom in himself differently, as follows: "Hello, old fellow, what does all this mean?--too much rich food, too much rich wine, too much of everything that is good to the taste and bad for the stomach. Well, I might have expected it. Am ever so much obliged to you, Mr. Pain, for having warned me so promptly; I'll take the hint and correct the error before the trouble gets seated. Keep me well posted, Mr. Pain. If the disorder does not disappear, please keep on prodding me so that I will know if I am doing the right thing or the wrong thing towards it." Which of these men would recover more quickly, and which of them would suffer more discomfort?

There are always different points-of-view and different attitudes towards every problem of life. The different points-of-view are always in competition, and, other conditions being equal, winning or losing is a question of attitude. The attitude that is directed by appreciation, gratitude, hope, trust, or any of the attributes of Forethought, will always win, as against the attitude that is handicapped by any shade of Fearthought.

Life may be filled with disappointments or with successes merely by the choice of point-of-view, the pessimistic point-of-view leading from disappointment to disappointment, and the optimistic point of view leading to a succession of successes. As a man thinks, so does he act, and so does the world help him to act.

Evolution never places obstacles in the _right_ road. A seeming obstacle may be but a hurdle, the clearing of which may win a prize in the life race. Some one has said that the supreme obstacle in life is surmounted by aid of the progressively difficult smaller obstacles that are overcome with increasing ease, and which, if their beneficent uses are known, become only hurdles instead of obstructions.

"Set 'em up again; they are all down but nine," said, in the spirit of hopeful determination, has won games for many contestants.

It is the point-of-view that determines whether an obstacle is a hurdle or an obstruction, or whether the obstruction, if it be such, is in the _wrong_ road or not. If a traveler on life's road starts with an optimistic point-of-view he will enjoy obstacles as hurdles, or he will greet obstructions with pleasure, as being Providentially placed in the _wrong_ road. In any case he will be happy about it, and his happiness will be the best possible stimulant in aiding him to clear hurdles or to seek new paths to pleasant places.

The optimistic and pessimistic points-of-view are the means by which the concordant and discordant notes in life are sounded. The merit or demerit of things lies less within the things themselves, as far as the observer is concerned, than in his ability to accept them complacently, if inevitable, and to mould or to shape them to profitable and agreeable uses, rather than to suffer them as unprofitable and disagreeable. For example, it is profitable to look upon all persons and upon all experiences as teachers, but to reserve the superiority of choosing to be guided by them or warned by them according as the quality of the teaching is good or bad.

There are proverbs in all languages that teach the preference of the optimistic point-of-view, but they will avail little as long as fearthought is tolerated as a necessary and respectable thing. Experience endorses the proverbs and discredits the necessity and respectability of fearthought.

The Japanese have a proverb, born of the optimistic point-of-view, that is very useful to them, inasmuch as the light wood-construction of their houses invites frequent fires and sweeping losses in consequence. After a fire it is fashionable in Japan for sufferers to greet each other in sympathy with the truism, always accompanied by a smile, "Not much trouble to move," and then they all pitch in to assist as much as possible to rehabilitate each other through kind attentions that really make the fires but hot-bed nurseries of altruistic sympathy, in which there is more joy than in the greatest accumulation of possessions.

After the war--the recent sectional dispute, whose theater of destruction was in the Southern States of America--many of the families of the ante-bellum slave aristocracy were mainly reduced in possessions, and deprived of some of the means of ostentation, and in rare instances, of the necessary means of comfort; but they had been defeated in their Cause, and many of them settled into a state of depression that was more cruel to them than all the reverses of the war. Nature continued to be as kind, the seasons smiled on the crops with unvarying regularity, and the physical scars of war were soon healed and overgrown, but the disappointed ones heeded not the return of material prosperity. They focused their point-of-view upon the past, and refused to see the smiles and the warmth of the present and the promise of the future.

Property aristocracy always creates a false pride, in which the point-of-view is distorted.

It will undoubtedly be the same with the name-proud Greeks as it was with the property-proud Southrons, and bespeaks little for the respectability of a pride that afflicts its victims more seriously than the destruction of property.

It is a meritorious pride that rises superior to defeat, and after saying "Thy Will Be Done" adds, "Teach Thou Me Appreciation," and begins the pursuit of peace anew with the point of view directed by optimism and not by pessimism.

I have seen whole families, suffering from self-imposed humiliation and depression, leap into new life, new growth, and new happiness at a change of the point-of-view. The Southerners are, above all other Americans, chivalrous and loyally American in their natures. They are also generally religious, and cling to the teachings of their parents. In focusing their point-of-view upon the past, and, nursing the sting of defeat, they have thought that they were conserving filial regard, chivalry and religion, and they have held to the distorted point-of-view with loyal purpose. A change of the point-of-view, rising superior to disappointment, more nearly satisfied filial pride, while Christian optimism and gratitude more nearly became the profession of religion than the fault-finding dictated by the antiquated point-of-view. Finding fault with the happenings of the past is as much blasphemy as any other disapproval of the Almighty, and yet blasphemy is regarded as the wickedest of sins in religious estimation; and, at the same time, loading up with a burden of depression and self-humiliation is the most unprofitable form of self-abuse known to economics.

It is better to have an intelligent and optimistic command of the point-of-view and hold title to nothing, than to have possessions valued at millions, and not count this as the richest possession of them all. If anything seem to be wrong with you, first examine the point-of-view. If you do this conscientiously, you will probably find the fault therein and seek a remedy by _changing the point-of-view_.

DON'T BE A SEWER.

A sewer is a channel for the conveyance of disagreeable matter.

Any person who receives and carries mean report or suspicion of his neighbor is therefore a human sewer.

A good sewer is a good thing. It receives disagreeable matter and carries it along, hidden from sight and away from the other senses, to some remote place, and discharges it there.

A leaky sewer is an abomination.

Human sewers usually leak. They take delight in letting out the disagreeable matter they are carrying, at every street corner, in every parlor, and in the midst of the multitude, wherever they may chance to be. The characteristic of the human sewer is that it is a leaky sewer. By its leaks it is known.

Human sewers themselves generally create much of their sewage.

I once had a friend, an otherwise good fellow, who had acquired the habit of collecting and distributing social sewage. He was not amenable to logical suggestion against the habit. He held the idea that a spade should be called a spade, and that if disagreeable things existed, honesty required that they should be discussed. One day, when my friend was carrying an unusually heavy load of sewage, and was distributing it freely, this thought came into my mind, and I gave it utterance. "You remind me of a sewer," said I.

There might have been a serious impairment of our friendship as the result of my utterance, for my friend is full of so-called "spirit," had I not immediately followed my offensive remark by an apology, and a brotherly explanation somewhat in the vein as above.

The good effect of the comparison on my friend is my excuse for introducing it here. What logic and persuasion had not been able to accomplish, offensive comparison accomplished.

My friend is too self-respecting to allow himself to be in any way related to a leaky sewer, and has reformed beautifully. A short time since, in speaking of the incident, he acknowledged its effectiveness by saying, "Every time I think of anything mean I fancy I can smell it."

CALL SUSPICION A LIAR.

It is an excellent rule to follow to call Suspicion a liar five times before basing judgment upon its testimony.

If you will take the trouble to investigate the average accuracy of your suspicions, you will note that they are wrong in so many cases that they are not a safe guide, and are generally unjust accusers.

While the person who harbors the suspicion is the worst sufferer in the end, when the accusations have been proved to be groundless, there is always a possibility of injustice, that, falling on servants or others holding inferior positions, is exceedingly cruel.

How often, in the household or in the hotel apartment, is a carelessly mislaid ring the cause of great unhappiness to both mistress and maid, because of the ready mischief of Fearthought and its attendant imp, Suspicion.

It is an axiom of the detective service, that untrained suspicion generally takes the wrong scent, and that it usually saves time to look in some other direction for the culprit, than in that pointed out by the accuser.

The elimination of the seeds of Fearthought from the mind, the possibility of which is the contention of my theory, will carry with it suspicion, and relieve one of endless chance of doing and suffering injustice, but if emancipation should, unfortunately, not have been accomplished, it is an excellent rule to follow, to meet Suspicion with suspicion, and call it "liar"! five times, before making accusation on its testimony.

I CAN'T _NOT_ DO IT.

A person more frequently lies when he says "I can't" than when he says "I can." There are, to be sure, more things that one cannot do than there are that he can do, because the ability of the strongest and most skillful is comparatively limited; but the person who is in the habit of saying "I can't" usually says it about the wrong thing or at the wrong time.

Whenever a person says that he cannot do a thing that God has made it possible for him to do, and which he knows to be possible, he is not only a liar, but also a blasphemer.

If one is asked to climb a tree or lift a very heavy weight, there may be reason for saying "I can't," because of lack of ability, strength or practice. For the same reason, difficult "runs" on a piano, perilous feats of balancing or turning in gymnastics, and even a great many simple things that are easy to the accustomed, may be impossible to the unaccustomed without certain practice, and with reference to them it is reasonable to say, "I can't."

If, however, one is asked _not_ to climb a tree, or _not_ to lift a weight, or _not_ to perform a "run" on a piano, there is no excuse for saying, "I cannot _not_ do it," for it is as illogical as it is ungrammatical, and as false as any other lie.

Applied to mental accomplishment, it is even more illogical and false, because thought is more pliable than muscle.

Not being evil is simply _not being evil_, and whoever says, "I cannot _not_ be bad," is a liar. When he is asleep he proves the lie.

There are habits-of-desire which seem attractive to perverted taste, that may need a strong counter-suggestion to correct, but there is no habit-of-desire but what can easily be corrected by the right counter-suggestion. For instance, drinking whisky habitually is recognized to be a bad habit of perverted desire, but one habitual drunkard I know of abjured whisky for life on account of having discovered a dead fly in his glass.