CHARACTER-BUILDING THOUGHT POWER
_A thought,--good or evil,--an act, in time a habit,--so runs
life's law: what you live in your thought-world, that, sooner or
later, you will find objectified in your life._
Unconsciously we are forming habits every moment of our lives. Some are
habits of a desirable nature; some are those of a most undesirable
nature. Some, though not so bad in themselves, are exceedingly bad in
their cumulative effects, and cause us at times much loss, much pain and
anguish, while their opposites would, on the contrary, bring us much
peace and joy, as well as a continually increasing power.
Have we it within our power to determine at all times what types of
habits shall take form in our lives? In other words, is habit-forming,
character-building, a matter of mere chance, or have we it within our
own control? We have, entirely and absolutely. "I will be what I will to
be," can be said and should be said by every human soul.
After this has been bravely and determinedly said, and not only said,
but fully inwardly realized, something yet remains. Something remains
to be said regarding the great law underlying habit-forming,
character-building; for there is a simple, natural, and thoroughly
scientific method that all should know. A method whereby old,
undesirable, earth-binding habits can be broken, and new, desirable,
heaven-lifting habits can be acquired,--a method whereby life in part or
in its totality can be changed, provided one is sufficiently in earnest
to know, and, knowing it, to apply the law.
Thought is the force underlying all. And what do we mean by this? Simply
this: Your every act--every conscious act--is preceded by a thought.
Your dominating thoughts determine your dominating actions. The acts
repeated crystallize themselves into the habit. The aggregate of your
habits is your character. Whatever, then, you would have your acts, you
must look well to the character of the thought you entertain. Whatever
act you would not do,--habit you would not acquire,--you must look well
to it that you do not entertain the type of thought that will give birth
to this act, this habit.
It is a simple psychological law that any type of thought, if
entertained for a sufficient length of time, will, by and by, reach the
motor tracks of the brain, and finally burst forth into action. Murder
can be and many times is committed in this way, the same as all
undesirable things are done. On the other hand, the greatest powers are
grown, the most God-like characteristics are engendered, the most heroic
acts are performed in the same way.
The thing clearly to understand is this: That the thought is always
parent to the act. Now, we have it entirely in our own hands to
determine exactly what thoughts we entertain. In the realm of our own
minds we have absolute control, or we should have, and if at any time we
have not, then there is a method by which we can gain control, and in
the realm of the mind become thorough masters. In order to get to the
very foundation of the matter, let us look to this for a moment. For if
thought is always parent to our acts, habits, character, life, then it
is first necessary that we know fully how to control our thoughts.
Here let us refer to that law of the mind which is the same as is the
law in connection with the reflex nerve system of the body, the law
which says that whenever one does a certain thing in a certain way it is
easier to do the same thing in the same way the next time, and still
easier the next, and the next, and the next, until in time it comes to
pass that no effort is required, or no effort worth speaking of; but on
the contrary, to do the opposite would require the effort. The mind
carries with it the power that perpetuates its own type of thought, the
same as the body carries with it through the reflex nerve system the
power which perpetuates and makes continually easier its own particular
acts. Thus a simple effort to control one's thoughts, a simple setting
about it, even if at first failure is the result, and even if for a time
failure seems to be about the only result, will in time, sooner or
later, bring him to the point of easy, full, and complete control.
Each one, then, can grow the power of determining, controlling his
thought, the power of determining what types of thought he shall and
what types he shall not entertain. For let us never part in mind with
this fact, that every earnest _effort_ along any line makes the end
aimed at just a little easier for each succeeding effort, even if, as
has been said, apparent failure is the result of the earlier efforts.
This is a case where even failure is success, for the failure is not in
the effort, and every earnest effort adds an increment of power that
will eventually accomplish the end aimed at. We _can_, then, gain the
full and complete power of determining what character, what type of
thoughts we entertain.
Shall we now give attention to some two or three concrete cases? Here
is a man, the cashier of a large mercantile establishment, or cashier of
a bank. In his morning paper he reads of a man who has become suddenly
rich, has made a fortune of half a million or a million dollars in a few
hours through speculation on the stock market. Perhaps he has seen an
account of another man who has done practically the same thing lately.
He is not quite wise enough, however, to comprehend the fact that when
he reads of one or two cases of this kind he could find, were he to look
into the matter carefully, one or two hundred cases of men who have lost
all they had in the same way. He thinks, however, that he will be one of
the fortunate ones. He does not fully realize that there are no short
cuts to wealth honestly made. He takes a part of his savings, and as is
true in practically all cases of this kind, he loses all that he has put
in. Thinking now that he sees why he lost, and that had he more money he
would be able to get back what he has lost, and perhaps make a handsome
sum in addition, and make it quickly, the thought comes to him to use
some of the funds he has charge of. In nine cases out of ten, if not in
ten cases in every ten, the results that inevitably follow this are
known sufficiently well to make it unnecessary to follow him farther.
Where is the man's safety in the light of what we have been considering?
Simply this: the moment the thought of using for his own purpose funds
belonging to others enters his mind, if he is wise he will _instantly_
put the thought from his mind. If he is a fool he will entertain it. In
the degree in which he entertains it, it will grow upon him; it will
become the absorbing thought in his mind; it will finally become master
of his will power, and through rapidly succeeding steps, dishonor,
shame, degradation, penitentiary, remorse will be his. It is easy for
him to put the thought from his mind when it first enters; but as he
entertains it, it grows into such proportions that it becomes more and
more difficult for him to put it from his mind; and by and by it becomes
practically _impossible_ for him to do it. The light of the match, which
but a little effort of the breath would have extinguished at first, has
imparted a flame that is raging through the entire building, and now it
is almost, if not quite impossible to conquer it.
Shall we notice another concrete case? a trite case, perhaps, but one in
which we can see how habit is formed, and also how the same habit can be
unformed. Here is a young man, he may be the son of poor parents, or he
may be the son of rich parents; one in the ordinary ranks of life, or
one of high social standing, whatever that means. He is good-hearted,
one of good impulses, generally speaking,--a good fellow. He is out with
some companions, companions of the same general type. They are out for a
pleasant evening, out for a good time. They are apt at times to be
thoughtless, even careless. The suggestion is made by one of the
company, not that they get drunk, no, not at all; but merely that they
go and have something to drink together. The young man whom we first
mentioned, wanting to be genial, scarcely listens to the suggestion that
comes to his inner consciousness--that it will be better for him not to
fall in with the others in this. He does not stop long enough to realize
the fact that the greatest strength and nobility of character lies
always in taking a firm stand on the side of the right, and allow
himself to be influenced by nothing that will weaken this stand. He
goes, therefore, with his companions to the drinking place. With the
same or with other companions this is repeated now and then; and each
time it is repeated his power of saying "No" is gradually decreasing. In
this way he has grown a little liking for intoxicants, and takes them
perhaps now and then by himself. He does not dream, or in the slightest
degree realize, what way he is tending, until there comes a day when he
wakens to the consciousness of the fact that he hasn't the power nor
even the impulse to resist the taste which has gradually grown into a
minor form of craving for intoxicants. Thinking, however, that he will
be able to stop when he is really in danger of getting into the drink
habit, he goes thoughtlessly and carelessly on. We will pass over the
various intervening steps and come to the time when we find him a
confirmed drunkard. It is simply the same old story told a thousand or
even a million times over.
He finally awakens to his true condition; and through the shame, the
anguish, the degradation, and the want that comes upon him he longs for
a return of the days when he was a free man. But hope has almost gone
from his life. It would have been easier for him never to have begun,
and easier for him to have stopped before he reached his present
condition, but even in his present condition, be it the lowest and the
most helpless and hopeless that can be imagined, he has the power to get
out of it and be a free man once again. Let us see. The desire for drink
comes upon him again. If he entertain the thought, the desire, he is
lost again. His only hope, his only means of escape is this: the moment,
aye, _the very instant_ the thought comes to him, if he will put it out
of his mind he will thereby put out the little flame of the match. If he
entertain the thought the little flame will communicate itself until
almost before he is aware of it a consuming fire is raging, and then
effort is almost useless. The thought must be banished from the mind the
instant it enters; dalliance with it means failure and defeat, or a
fight that will be indescribably fiercer than it would be if the thought
is ejected at the beginning.
And here we must say a word regarding a certain great law that we may
call the "law of indirectness." A thought can be put out of the mind
easier and more successfully, not by dwelling upon it, not by attempting
to put it out _directly_, but by throwing the mind on to some other
object, by putting some other object of thought into the mind. This may
be, for example, the ideal of full and perfect self-mastery, or it may
be something of a nature entirely distinct from the thought which
presents itself, something to which the mind goes easily and naturally.
This will in time become the absorbing thought in the mind, and the
danger is past. This same course of action repeated, will gradually
grow the power of putting more readily out of mind the thought of drink
as it presents itself, and will gradually grow the power of putting into
the mind those objects of thought one most desires. The result will be
that as time passes the thought of drink will present itself less and
less, and when it does present itself it can be put out of the mind more
easily each succeeding time, until the time comes when it can be put out
without difficulty, and eventually the time will come when the thought
will enter the mind no more at all.
Still another case. You may be more or less of an irritable
nature--naturally, perhaps, provoked easily to anger. Some one says
something or does something that you dislike, and your first impulse is
to show resentment and possibly to give way to anger. In the degree that
you allow this resentment to display itself, that you allow yourself to
give way to anger, in that degree will it become easier to do the same
thing when any cause, even a very slight cause, presents itself. It
will, moreover, become continually harder for you to refrain from it,
until resentment, anger, and possibly even hatred and revenge become
characteristics of your nature, robbing it of its sunniness, its charm,
and its brightness for all with whom you come in contact. If, however,
the instant the impulse to resentment and anger arises, you check it
_then and there_, and throw the mind on to some other object of thought,
the power will gradually grow itself of doing this same thing more
readily, more easily, as succeeding like causes present themselves,
until by and by the time will come when there will be scarcely anything
that can irritate you, and nothing that can impel you to anger; until by
and by a matchless brightness and charm of nature and disposition will
become habitually yours, a brightness and charm you would scarcely think
possible to-day. And so we might take up case after case, characteristic
after characteristic, habit after habit. The habit of fault-finding and
its opposite are grown in identically the same way; the characteristic
of jealousy and its opposite; the characteristic of fear and its
opposite. In this same way we grow either love or hatred; in this way we
come to take a gloomy, pessimistic view of life, which objectifies
itself in a nature, a disposition of this type, or we grow that sunny,
hopeful, cheerful, buoyant nature that brings with it so much joy and
beauty and power for ourselves, as well as so much hope and inspiration
and joy for all the world.
There is nothing more true in connection with human life than that we
grow into the likeness of those things we contemplate. Literally and
scientifically and necessarily true is it that, "as a man thinketh in
his heart, so _is_ he." The "is" part is his character. His character is
the sum total of his habits. His habits have been formed by his
conscious acts; but every conscious act is, as we have found, preceded
by a thought. And so we have it--thought on the one hand, character,
life, destiny on the other. And simple it becomes when we bear in mind
that it is simply the thought of the present moment, and the next moment
when it is upon us, and then the next, and so on through all time.
One can in this way attain to whatever ideals he would attain to. Two
steps are necessary: first, as the days pass, to form one's ideals; and
second, to follow them continually whatever may arise, wherever they may
lead him. Always remember that the great and strong character is the one
who is ever ready to sacrifice the present pleasure for the future good.
He who will thus follow his highest ideals as they present themselves to
him day after day, year after year, will find that as Dante, following
his beloved from world to world, finally found her at the gates of
Paradise, so he will find himself eventually at the same gates. Life is
not, we may say, for mere passing pleasure, but for the highest
unfoldment that one can attain to, the noblest character that one can
grow, and for the greatest service that one can render to all mankind.
In this, however, we will find the highest pleasure, for in this the
only real pleasure lies. He who would find it by any short cuts, or by
entering upon any other paths, will inevitably find that his last state
is always worse than his first; and if he proceed upon paths other than
these he will find that he will never find real and lasting pleasure at
all. The question is not, What are the conditions in our lives? but, How
do we meet the conditions that we find there? And whatever the
conditions are, it is unwise and profitless to look upon them, even if
they are conditions that we would have otherwise, in the attitude of
complaint, for complaint will bring depression, and depression will
weaken and possibly even kill the spirit that would engender the power
that would enable us to bring into our lives an entirely new set of
conditions.
In order to be concrete, even at the risk of being personal, I will say
that in my own experience there have come at various times into my life
circumstances and conditions that I gladly would have run from at the
time--conditions that caused at the time humiliation and shame and
anguish of spirit. But invariably, as sufficient time has passed, I have
been able to look back and see clearly the part which every experience
of the type just mentioned had to play in my life. I have seen the
lessons it was essential for me to learn; and the result is that now I
would not drop a single one of these experiences from my life,
humiliating and hard to bear as they were at the time; no, not for the
world. And here is also a lesson I have learned: whatever conditions are
in my life to-day that are not the easiest and most agreeable, and
whatever conditions of this type all coming time may bring, I will take
them just as they come, without complaint, without depression, and meet
them in the wisest possible way; knowing that they are the best possible
conditions that could be in my life at the time, or otherwise they would
not be there; realizing the fact that, although I may not at the time
see why they are in my life, although I may not see just what part they
have to play, the time will come, and when it comes I will see it all,
and thank God for every condition just as it came.
Each one is so apt to think that his own conditions, his own trials or
troubles or sorrows, or his own struggles, as the case may be, are
greater than those of the great mass of mankind, or possibly greater
than those of anyone else in the world. He forgets that each one has his
own peculiar trials or troubles or borrows to bear, or struggles in
habits to overcome, and that his is but the common lot of all the human
race. We are apt to make the mistake in this--in that we see and feel
keenly our own trials, or adverse conditions, or characteristics to be
overcome, while those of others we do not see so clearly, and hence we
are apt to think that they are not at all equal to our own. Each has his
own problems to work out. Each must work out his own problems. Each must
grow the insight that will enable him to see what the causes are that
have brought the unfavorable conditions into his life; each must grow
the strength that will enable him to face these conditions, and to set
into operation forces that will bring about a different set of
conditions. We may be of aid to one another by way of suggestion, by way
of bringing to one another a knowledge of certain higher laws and
forces,--laws and forces that will make it easier to do that which we
would do. The doing, however, must be done by each one for himself.
And so the way to get out of any conditions we have gotten into, either
knowingly or inadvertently, either intentionally or unintentionally, is
to take time to look the conditions squarely in the face, and to find
the law whereby they have come about. And when we have discovered the
law, the thing to do is not to rebel against it, not to resist it, but
to go with it by working in harmony with it. If we work in harmony with
it, it will work for our highest good, and will take us wheresoever we
desire. If we oppose it, if we resist it, if we fail to work in harmony
with it, it will eventually break us to pieces. The law is immutable in
its workings. Go with it, and it brings all things our way; resist it,
and it brings suffering, pain, loss, and desolation.
But a few days ago I was talking with a lady, a most estimable lady
living on a little New England farm of some five or six acres. Her
husband died a few years ago, a good-hearted, industrious man, but one
who spent practically all of his earnings in drink. When he died the
little farm was unpaid for, and the wife found herself without any
visible means of support, with a family of several to care for. Instead
of being discouraged with what many would have called her hard lot,
instead of rebelling against the circumstances in which she found
herself, she faced the matter bravely, firmly believing that there were
ways by which she could manage, though she could not see them clearly at
the time. She took up her burden where she found it, and went bravely
forward. For several years she has been taking care of summer boarders
who come to that part of the country, getting up regularly, she told me,
at from half-past three to four o'clock in the morning, and working
until ten o'clock each night. In the winter-time, when this means of
revenue is cut off, she has gone out to do nursing in the country round
about. In this way the little farm is now almost paid for; her children
have been kept in school, and they are now able to aid her to a greater
or less extent. Through it all she has entertained no fears nor
forebodings; she has shown no rebellion of any kind. She has not kicked
against the circumstances which brought about the conditions in which
she found herself, but she has put herself into harmony with the law
that would bring her into another set of conditions. And through it all,
she told me, she had been continually grateful that she has been able to
work, and that whatever her own circumstances have been, she has never
yet failed to find some one whose circumstances were still a little
worse than hers, and for whom it was not possible for her to render some
little service.
Most heartily she appreciates the fact, and most grateful is she for it,
that the little home is now almost paid for, and soon no more of her
earnings will have to go out in that channel. The dear little home, she
said, would be all the more precious to her by virtue of the fact that
it was finally hers through her own efforts. The strength and nobility
of character that have come to her during these years, the sweetness of
disposition, the sympathy and care for others, her faith in the final
triumph of all that is honest and true and pure and good, are qualities
that thousands and hundreds of thousands of women, yes, of both men and
women, who are apparently in better circumstances in life can justly
envy. And should the little farm home be taken away to-morrow, she has
gained something that a farm of a thousand acres could not buy. By going
about her work in the way she has gone about it the burden of it all has
been lightened, and her work has been made truly enjoyable.
Let us take a moment to see how these same conditions would have been
met by a person of less wisdom, one not so far-sighted as this dear,
good woman has been. For a time possibly her spirit would have been
crushed. Fears and forebodings of all kinds would probably have taken
hold of her, and she would have felt that nothing that she could do
would be of any avail. Or, she might have rebelled against the agencies,
against the law which brought about the conditions in which she found
herself, and she might have become embittered against the world, and
gradually also against the various people with whom she came in contact.
Or again, she might have thought that her efforts would be unable to
meet the circumstances, and that it was the duty of some one to lift her
out of her difficulties. In this way no progress at all would have been
made towards the accomplishment of the desired results, and continually
she would have felt more keenly the circumstances in which she found
herself, because there was nothing else to occupy her mind. In this way
the little farm would not have become hers, she would not have been able
to do anything for others, and her nature would have become embittered
against everything and everybody.
True it is, then, not, What are the conditions in one's life? but, How
does he meet the conditions that he finds there? This will determine
all. And if at any time we are apt to think that our own lot is about
the hardest there is, and if we are able at any time to persuade
ourselves that we can find no one whose lot is just a little harder than
ours, let us then study for a little while the character Pompilia, in
Browning's poem,[D] and after studying it, thank God that the conditions
in our life are so favorable; and then set about with a trusting and
intrepid spirit to actualize the conditions that we most desire.
* * * * *
Thought is at the bottom of all progress or retrogression, of all
success or failure, of all that is desirable or undesirable in human
life. The type of thought we entertain both creates and draws conditions
that crystallize about it, conditions exactly the same in nature as is
the thought that gives them form. Thoughts are forces, and each creates
of its kind, whether we realize it or not. The great law of the drawing
power of the mind, which says that like creates like, and that like
attracts like, is continually working in every human life, for it is one
of the great immutable laws of the universe. For one to take time to see
clearly the things he would attain to, and then to hold that ideal
steadily and continually before his mind, never allowing faith--his
positive thought-forces--to give way to or to be neutralized by doubts
and fears, and then to set about doing each day what his hands find to
do, never complaining, but spending the time that he would otherwise
spend in complaint in focusing his thought-forces upon the ideal that
his mind has built, will sooner or later bring about the full
materialization of that for which he sets out.
There are those who, when they begin to grasp the fact that there is
what we may term a "science of thought," who, when they begin to realize
that through the instrumentality of our interior, spiritual
thought-forces we have the power of gradually moulding the every-day
conditions of life as we would have them, in their early enthusiasm are
not able to see results as quickly as they expect, and are apt to think,
therefore, that after all there is not very much in that which has but
newly come to their knowledge. They must remember, however, that in
endeavoring to overcome an old or to grow a new habit, everything cannot
be done _all at once_.
In the degree that we attempt to use the thought-forces do we
continually become able to use them more effectively. Progress is slow
at first, more rapid as we proceed. Power grows by using, or, in other
words, using brings a continually increasing power. This is governed by
law the same as are all things in our lives, and all things in the
universe about us. Every act and advancement made by the musician is in
full accordance with law. No one commencing the study of music can, for
example, sit down to the piano and play the piece of a master at the
first effort. He must not conclude, however, nor does he conclude, that
the piece of the master _cannot be_ played by him, or, for that matter,
by any one. He begins to practise the piece. The law of the mind that we
have already noticed comes to his aid, whereby his mind follows the
music more readily, more rapidly, and more surely each succeeding time,
and there also comes into operation and to his aid the law underlying
the action of the reflex nerve system of the body, which we have also
noticed, whereby his fingers coordinate their movements with the
movements of his mind, more readily, more rapidly, and more accurately
each succeeding time; until by and by the time comes when that which he
stumbles through at first, that in which there is no harmony, nothing
but discord, finally reveals itself as the music of the master, the
music that thrills and moves masses of men and women. So it is in the
use of the thought-forces. It is the reiteration, the constant
reiteration of the thought that grows the power of continually stronger
thought-focusing, and that finally brings manifestation.
* * * * *
All life is from within out. This is something that cannot be reiterated
too often. The springs of life are all from within. This being true, it
would be well for us to give more time to the inner life than we are
accustomed to give to it, especially in this Western world.
There is nothing that will bring us such abundant returns as to take a
little time in the quiet each day of our lives. We need this to get the
kinks out of our minds and hence out of our lives. We need this to form
better the higher ideals of life. We need this in order to see clearly
in mind the things upon which we would concentrate and focus the
thought-forces. We need this in order to make continually anew and to
keep our conscious connection with the Infinite. We need this in order
that the rush and hurry of our every-day life does not keep us away from
the conscious realization of the fact that the spirit of Infinite life
and power that is back of all, working in and through all, the life of
all, is the life of our life, and the source of our power; and that
outside of this we have no life and we have no power. To realize this
fact fully, and to live in it consciously at all times, is to find the
kingdom of God, which is essentially an inner kingdom, and can never be
anything else. The kingdom of heaven is to be found only within, and
this is done once for all, and in a manner in which it cannot otherwise
be done, when we come into the conscious, living realization of the fact
that in our real selves we are essentially one with the Divine life, and
open ourselves continually so that this Divine life can speak to and
manifest through us. In this way we come into the condition where we are
continually walking with God. In this way the consciousness of God
becomes a living reality in our lives; and in the degree in which it
becomes a reality does it bring us into the realization of continually
increasing wisdom, insight, and power. _This consciousness of God in the
soul of man is the essence, indeed the sum and substance of all
religion._ This identifies religion with every act and every moment of
every-day life. That which does not identify itself with every moment of
every day and with every act of life is religion in name only and not in
reality. This consciousness of God in the soul of man is the one thing
uniformly taught by all the prophets, by all the inspired ones, by all
the seers and mystics in the world's history, whatever the time,
wherever the country, whatever the religion, whatever minor differences
we may find in their lives and teachings. In regard to this they all
agree; indeed, this is the essence of their teaching, as it has also
been the secret of their power and the secret of their lasting
influence.
It is the attitude of the child that is necessary before we can enter
into the kingdom of heaven. As it was said, "Except ye become as little
children, ye cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven." For we then
realize that of ourselves we can do nothing, but that it is only as we
realize that it is the Divine life and power working within us, and it
is only as we open ourselves that it may work through us, that we are or
can do anything. It is thus that the simple life, which is essentially
the life of the greatest enjoyment and the greatest attainment, is
entered upon.
In the Orient the people as a class take far more time in the quiet, in
the silence, than we take. Some of them carry this possibly to as great
an extreme as we carry the opposite, with the result that they do not
actualize and objectify in the outer life the things they dream in the
inner life. We give so much time to the activities of the outer life
that we do not take sufficient time in the quiet to form in the inner,
spiritual thought-life the ideals and the conditions that we would have
actualized and manifested in the outer life. The result is that we take
life in a kind of haphazard way, taking it as it comes, thinking not
very much about it until, perhaps, pushed by some bitter experiences,
instead of moulding it, through the agency of the inner forces, exactly
as we would have it. We need to strike the happy balance between the
custom in this respect of the Eastern and Western worlds, and go to the
extreme of neither the one nor the other. This alone will give the ideal
life; and it is the ideal life only that is the thoroughly satisfactory
life. In the Orient there are many who are day after day sitting in the
quiet, meditating, contemplating, idealizing, with their eyes focused on
their stomach in spiritual revery, while through lack of outer
activities, in their stomachs they are actually starving. In this
Western world, men and women, in the rush and activity of our accustomed
life, are running hither and thither, with no centre, no foundation upon
which to stand, nothing to which they can anchor their lives, because
they do not take sufficient time to come into the realization of what
the centre, of what the reality of their lives is.
If the Oriental would do his contemplating, and then get up and do his
work, he would be in a better condition; he would be living a more
normal and satisfactory life. If we in the Occident would take more time
from the rush and activity of life for contemplation, for meditation,
for idealization, for becoming acquainted with our real selves, and then
go about our work manifesting the powers of our real selves, we would be
far better off, because we would be living a more natural, a more normal
life. To find one's centre, to become centred in the Infinite, is the
first great essential of every satisfactory life; and then to go out,
thinking, speaking, working, loving, living, from this centre.
* * * * *
In the highest character-building, such as we have been considering,
there are those who feel they are handicapped by what we term
_heredity_. In a sense they are right; in another sense they are totally
wrong. It is along the same lines as the thought which many before us
had inculcated in them through the couplet in the New England Primer:
"In Adam's fall, we sinned all." Now, in the first place, it is rather
hard to understand the justice of this if it is true. In the second
place, it is rather hard to understand why it is true. And in the third
place there is no truth in it at all. We are now dealing with the real,
essential self, and, however old Adam is, God is eternal. This means
you; it means me; it means every human soul. When we fully realize this
fact we see that heredity is a reed that is easily broken. The life of
every one is in his own hands and he can make it in character, in
attainment, in power, in divine self-realization, and hence in
influence, exactly what he wills to make it. All things that he most
fondly dreams of are his, or may become so if he is truly in earnest;
and as he rises more and more to his ideal, and grows in the strength
and influence of his character, he becomes an example and an inspiration
to all with whom he comes in contact; so that through him the weak and
faltering are encouraged and strengthened; so that those of low ideals
and of a low type of life instinctively and inevitably have their ideals
raised, and the ideals of no one can be raised without its showing forth
in his outer life. As he advances in his grasp upon and understanding of
the power and potency of the thought-forces, he finds that many times
through the process of mental suggestion he can be of tremendous aid to
one who is weak and struggling, by sending to him now and then, and by
continually holding him in the highest thought, in the thought of the
highest strength, wisdom, and love.
The one who takes sufficient time in the quiet mentally to form his
ideals, sufficient time to make and to keep continually his conscious
connection with the Infinite, with the Divine life and forces, is the
one who is best adapted to the strenuous life. He it is who can go out
and deal with sagacity and power with whatever issues may arise in the
affairs of every-day life. He it is who is building not for the years,
but for the centuries; not for time, but for the eternities. And he can
go out knowing not whither he goes, knowing that the Divine life within
him will never fail him, but will lead him on until he beholds the
Father face to face.
He is building for the centuries because only that which is the
highest, the truest, the noblest, and best will abide the test of the
centuries. He is building for eternity because when the transition
we call death takes place, life, character, self-mastery, divine
self-realization,--the only things that the soul when stripped of
everything else takes with it,--he has in abundance. In life, or when
the time of the transition to another form of life comes, he is never
afraid, never fearful, because he knows and realizes that behind him,
within him, beyond him, is the Infinite wisdom and love; and in this he
is eternally centred, and from it he can never be separated. With
Whittier he sings:
"I know not where His islands lift
Their fronded palms in air;
I only know I cannot drift
Beyond His love and care."
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote D: "The Ring and the Book," by Robert Browning.]