TRIES A RETIRED LIFE; IS ALSO AN INVESTIGATOR OF NEW THOUGHT, CHRISTIAN
SCIENCE, HYPNOTIC SUGGESTION, ETC.
Having now decided upon a retired life in earnest, I had nothing to do but
to look after my health and enjoy myself as best I could. I would settle
down and have a good time after a genteel fashion and, as the poet says:
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may." I would cultivate the little niceties
and amenities that go to embellish and round out one's life and character.
I would add a few touches to enhance my personal charms. I would manicure
my nails; iron out my "crow feet"; bleach out my freckles; keep my hair
softened up with hirsute remedies, and my mustache waxed out at the proper
angle. Whenever I appeared in society I did not mean to take a back seat
or be a wall-flower, realizing that bachelors of my age and standing were
very popular in a social way. However, I did not intend to get entangled
in the meshes of love again, remembering the Genevieve-Eleanor-Josephine
affairs. No wedding bells for me!
Yes, I would take life easy and I was always thinking, "next week I shall
go to work enjoying myself." But time slipped along and somehow I could
not get started in on the road to happiness. As I had nothing else to do I
could not understand why I should not be supremely happy. But I found it
hard work doing nothing; I could not enjoy myself at it.
Again I began to grow introspective and melancholy, and soon had a return
of all my symptoms of old. They all came trooping in to pay me a visit for
the sake of auld lang syne. How should I treat them? To get rid of
unwelcome visitors often requires study and tact. I had tried about all
the "health and hygiene" rules that had ever been invented. But while this
was true, I take a certain degree of pride in saying that among all the
absurd measures to which I have resorted, I never made a practice of
taking dopes and cure-alls. There are depths to which a self-respecting
neurasthenic will not stoop. One of these is taking patent medicines and
nostrums. Whenever an individual has descended so low that he imbibes
these things, he has gotten out of our class and has become a common,
every-day fiend. No, the neurasthenic is no commonplace fellow. He may
undergo a useless operation for appendicitis, but he will not swill down
dirty dopes. His office is high-toned and esthetic. Perhaps that is the
main reason why he is so often reluctant to give it up and be cured. He
may display morbid fears and fancies that border on lunacy, and he may do
some freakish and atrocious things, but for all that he is usually a man
of good points and perhaps superior attainments. Our cult is respectable
and made up of gentlemen who seldom defile their mouths or stomachs with
tobacco, cigarettes, impure words or patent medicine.
But I could not refrain from doing something for my health's sake. After
taking a little mental survey of the past, I saw at once that all of
nature's methods had, at one time and another, been called into my
service. It seemed to be an unconscious rule of action on my part never to
do the same thing twice if it could be avoided. Now I resolved to invade
the realm of the speculative and unseen by dipping into New Thought. The
subject seemed to be fascinating, although one in which there was still
something to be learned. The psychic research people claimed to have
telepathy and thought transference about on a paying basis. I thought that
if I could get some strong "health waves" permeating my system it would do
me good. The thing to do was to get my psychic machinery attuned to that
of some good healthy, clean-minded individuals who were skilled in this
line of business. I attended the meetings of a Theosophy Mutual Admiration
Society and tried to get some of their wholesome thoughts worked into my
system. It seemed to act nicely and the results were gratifying, but I was
of the opinion that perhaps Christian Science was better adapted to my
needs. It would be a stunner to be able to address a little speech about
like this to myself:--
"The joke is on you, old chap; you don't feel any of those symptoms you
have complained of all these years. Why? Well, because you haven't anybody
and haven't anything to feel with. Mind is all there is to you
and--and--and I'm afraid there is not enough of it to give you much
trouble."
I liked Christian Science pretty well, although the name seemed to me
somewhat of a misnomer. The main part of it consisted in trying to make me
believe that nothing is or ever was. Just a great big, overgrown
imagination. However, I cannot refrain from perpetrating that old gag
about their taking real money for what they did for me.
I soon dropped science and was treated by hypnotic suggestion. I would
seat myself in an easy-chair midst seductive surroundings and the great
metaphysician would then say: "Put your objective senses in abeyance with
complete mental oblivion, and enter a state of profound passivity." This
interpreted into plain United States would mean: "Forget your troubles and
go to sleep." When I was in a suggestible mood the doctor would address a
little speech to what he called my subconscious mind, after which he sent
me on my way rejoicing. About this time a friend advised me to consult a
vibrationist, which I did.
This man told me that the trouble in my case was in my polarization; not
enough positive for the negative elements. However, he assured me that I
could be cured by sleeping with my head to the northwest and wearing his
insulated soles inside my shoes. I postponed taking this treatment until
after I had heard from an astrologist to whom I had written. The latter
agreed to tell me all I cared to know about myself and my ailments, which
he would deduce from the date of my birth. His graphic description of the
diseases to which I was liable gave me a favorable impression of his
astute wisdom. So I wrote to about a dozen other astrologists for
horoscopes of my life in order to see whether all their findings were the
same. Some of them tallied almost verbatim with the first one received,
while others were diametrically opposite. From this I inferred that these
star-gazers gained their information in at least two ways: from their
imaginations and from a book.