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.

Sometimes it requires a mania to cure a mania. Dr. H. Holbrook Curtis,

the eminent throat-specialist of New York, who has in his care, during

grand opera season, millions of dollars' worth of voices, and who makes

special study of the mental condition of his patients, once said to

me, "The only cure that I know of for dipsomania is religio-mania."

This same assertion is frequently made in quite a different way,

but to the same effect. Dr. Curtis did not mean by religio-mania

religious _appreciation_; neither did he mean by dipsomania, temperate

use of stimulants. He referred to the intemperate emotion and the

morbid taste. The practice of drinking unduly because of the social

temptation of it may be cured by logical suggestion, but a mania may

be amenable only to a mania. There is, however, no bad habit but that

can be corrected by _some_ means, and as there is some remedy for

every separate phase of evil, it should be considered not respectable

to say, "I cannot _not_ do"; and, as measure of respectability is the

highest social desideratum in the present age, the best weapon to be

used against the toleration of evil in one's self or in others is a

general protest against it on the score of its being unnecessary and

not-respectable.

In my experiments I have used all sorts of means of suggestion with

which to reach perverse habits of evil thought. As stated elsewhere,

offensive comparisons and ridicule are more frequently effective

than reason or logic, and, as such, are often necessary, in the same

way that offensive medicines are sometimes effective in removing

indigestible matter from the stomach,--for example, ipecac.

I had a friend who was in the habit of saying "I can't" to almost

everything. The habit-of-opposition was so strong that it was the

first to assert itself on every occasion. The attitude of opposition

was strengthened by the perverse idea that brutal frankness is an

expression of honesty, and hence reference to his honesty or dishonesty

was a tender point of etiquette with my friend. To touch this tender

spot, and administer the strong suggestion--medicine--necessary in the

case, I hit upon this expedient:

Whenever my friend said "I can't" to a proposition which it did not

fit, I immediately ejaculated "Liar!" At first there was some danger

attending my experiment, but I took the precaution to be out of reach,

and the fact that my intention was good assured me ultimate pardon.

At first my offensive criticism was frequently necessary, but it became

less and less so, till at last the cure is so complete that the once

favorite expression, "I can't," is as disagreeable to my friend, as

must have been the dead fly in the glass of the drunkard previously

mentioned, that was the means of curing him of a deeply rooted habit.

A MILLION TO ONE ON THE UNEXPECTED.

One evening, at a meeting of the "Ganglionics," in the city of New

Orleans, I asked the president of the club, Dr. William Benjamin Smith,

the question, "Why is it that the unexpected generally happens?" His

reply, which induced the caption to this chapter, was, "Because the

expected is only one thing, while the unexpected may be a million

things."

This is really, as well as figuratively, true, and, being true, what

idiots are we to waste our time and paralyze our energies, by thinking

fearthought into the future, on a million-to-one chance of its hitting

the mark.

There is one bull's-eye that we are sure to hit if we aim at it

constantly and long enough. Death is the one universal bull's-eye that

figures in every life. At the same time that we are sure of hitting it,

we know by the experience of others that we do not realize death when

it actually comes, for Nature kindly administers an anæsthetic just

before death, and sometimes long before. Then why should we fear even

death?

Persons who have been at the open door of the unexplored state called

death say that a delightful feeling of rest comes over the emigrant,

and that entry into the next state is like being in a beautiful dream.

If this be so, there is also nothing disagreeable in death--only in the

fearthought about it--and hence the one only bull's-eye we have been

sure of hitting--the cause of fear of death--does not exist, except in

our hopes or our fears.

Many persons who are in the habit of apprehending cause for fearthought

about the future, and who spend much of their time in worry, would not

like to be put down in the category of false prophets, and yet their

apprehension must be false in the ratio of chances of a million to one.

Thought about chance, as related to forethought, and from the

point-of-view of the speculator or gambler, suggests the absurdity of

wasting any good coin--calm and happiness--by "laying it on"--betting

on--fear. The chances against having "coppered" the right fear are

not only _not even_, but are ten to one against--an hundred to one

against--or more--never less. Even if you should win by correctly

guessing a fear, you would get back again none of the happiness that

you had sacrificed--would not even get your "stake" back.

As a matter of actual experience, the following incident is a good

example: A young man employed in a publishing house, where the

proprietor was afflicted with the fuss-and-fret-habit, contracted the

disease, and unconsciously became a victim to its toils. Robust good

health began to give way to languor that induced dyspepsia and other

contingent disorders, until suicide stared the young man in the face

and haunted his dreams.

One day some one whispered a suspicion in the young employee's ear

that was directed at worry and anger as the causes of his ill-health

and unhappiness and the thought led his systematic habits-of-business

to suggest "keeping tab" on at least one of the suspects, to see if

it were the liar and thief, as charged. Each day, when worry made its

predictions, record of them was carefully kept, and at the end of the

month the reports were checked up by results. _Only three per cent. of

the predictions were even remotely realized!_

The old proprietor of the business, through whom the contagious

poison started, is dead, and the happy young menticulturist owns the

business, which has become very successful by influence of the sunny

optimism of its new owner, which attracts trade unconsciously to it.

LOVE CANNOT BE QUALIFIED.

The merit of loving is in the act, and should not--cannot--be qualified

by the merit or demerit of the object under consideration.

There may be more effort required, perhaps, in loving something that

seems to us unlovely, but no more virtue in so doing, as loving, like

virtue, is its own reward.

God-love does not discriminate. It is, therefore, ungodly to

discriminate. In the performance of the Man-Nature partnership-function

of "divine selection" in the harmonizing of things that are

antagonistic to each other and to Man--selecting for survival those

things that are not deterrent to the harmonious growth and happiness

of Man--if selection is to be made, it should be done in the spirit of

calm justice, and not in the spirit of hate, for, as love blesses the

lover, so does hate react upon the hater.

We cannot afford _not to love_.

There are animals and insects that seem to us to be undesirable and

prejudicial to the harmony we are seeking to secure, that may serve

most excellent purposes in relation to existing conditions. They are

frequently a warning against unfavorable conditions, in the same way

that pain is a warning against diseased conditions in the body. In the

same way, crime is a warning against social or political conditions

which invite or compel crime, and remedy should be sought in change of

the conditions in preference to the punishment of the crime. I believe

that a change of our point-of-view--our attitude towards causes and

effects--would find punishment generally unnecessary, and, as such,

brutal.

There is, then, a double reason why we should hate nothing. In the

first place, it is probable that we are hating the wrong thing, and

thereby are unjust, and we are certainly doing injury to ourselves by

nursing the feeling of hatred.

Disapproval--calm disapproval--is a better judge in the exercise of

"divine selection" than angry antagonism. Pity, as well as love, is a

divine attribute, but hate is an attribute of the devil. Pity suggests

change of conditions producing inharmonious results. Hate suggests

punishment of the victim of the inharmony.

Happiness as Found in Forethought Minus Fearthought · 第 6 / 9 段