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THE RIGHT KNOCK
A Story
by
HELEN VAN-ANDERSON
Author of "It Is Possible," "The Story of Teddy," "The Journal of a Live
Woman," etc., etc.
"Go to your bosom;
Knock there; and ask your heart, what it doth know"
--SHAKESPEARE.
_THIRTEENTH EDITION_
Published by
_The New York Magazine of Mysteries_
22 North William Street, New York City
Copyright, 1889, by Helen Van-Anderson
All rights reserved
THE RIGHT KNOCK
Copyright, 1903, by
The New York Magazine
of Mysteries
All rights reserved
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER. PAGE.
I. MRS. HAYDEN, 9
II. THE GIRLS AT HOME, 17
III. A FIRE AND A RETROSPECT, 25
IV. BEGINNINGS, 30
V. THE OLD DOUBTS AGAIN, 36
VI. TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE, 44
VII. A NEW HOPE, 59
VIII. WHAT THE WORLD SAID, 63
IX. A STRUGGLE WITH SELF, 70
X. HINTS OF HELP, 79
XI. LEAVING HOME, 83
XII. MRS. PEARL'S LECTURE, 90
XIII. THE TRUE FOUNDATION, 95
XIV. QUESTIONINGS, 104
XV. WHAT IS NOT TRUE, 112
XVI. STUDYING AND PROVING, 125
XVII. WHAT IS TRUE, 131
XVIII. IT MUST BE SO, 141
XIX. THE SPIRITUAL BIRTH, 151
XX. TANGLES AND TALKS, 162
XXI. INSPIRATION AND THE BIBLE, 172
XXII. A CHURCH COMMITTEE, 184
XXIII. PRAYER, 192
XXIV. EVERY-DAY PRACTICE, 202
XXV. UNDERSTANDING, 211
XXVI. A NEW PROBLEM, 222
XXVII. UNDERCURRENTS, 228
XXVIII. THE POWER OF THOUGHT, 234
XXIX. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING, 243
XXX. PRACTICAL APPLICATION, 249
XXXI. CONFIDENCES, 257
XXXII. PRACTICAL APPLICATION, 262
XXXIII. GRACE, 274
XXXIV. PRACTICAL APPLICATION, 281
XXXV. PRACTICAL APPLICATION, 291
XXXVI. FOUND AT LAST, 300
XXXVII. AFTER THREE YEARS, 308
PREFACE.
Although most excellent food is to be found on the table of metaphysical
thought, there has never yet been a metaphysical story setting forth a
picture of every-day life, in its search for, and attainment of
satisfaction through the knowledge of Christ Philosophy.
Knowing the pressing need of such a book among the many inquirers and
students on this theme, and with the hope of helping to fill that need,
this story is told.
It is a book of facts, not fiction, although wearing the dress of
fiction. Every case of healing, every seemingly marvelous experience has
come under the observation of the writer and can be authenticated as a
veritable fact.
That there are hundreds, yea, thousands to-day, who leave their homes
and go to distant cities for the sake of pursuing the study of Christ
Philosophy, or receiving the benefit of its healing ministry, is proof
enough that the story of one woman's experience will be interesting and
helpful to all.
While the lessons contained in Mrs. Hayden's letters are not exhaustive,
they are valuable for their very simplicity, and are thoroughly
practical, complete instructions for the beginning and continuance of
the study of this wonderful truth.
With every lesson supplemented by personal experiences, the reader sees
not only the theory but the practice demonstrated, and in this simple
story he may find the mirror of his own inner hopes and aspirations,
with a broader view of their possible attainment than he has yet seen.
Carlyle says: "If a book come from the heart, it will contrive to reach
other hearts." "The Right Knock" is presented with no other apology than
this: it has come from the heart.
HELEN VAN-ANDERSON.
PREFACE TO THE PRESENT EDITION.
To a new and awakened public the author gives greetings and begs to say
a few more words about THE RIGHT KNOCK.
After all these years of work along the lines laid out in the book and
with a wide knowledge of prevailing systems of mental training, the
author is happy to be able to say with unbounded confidence that there
is nothing to excel this system for beginners, for those desiring to lay
a lasting foundation. The emphasis laid upon the necessity for
persistent, regular and systematic practice of word speaking by audible
repetition, is great, but none too great. For the faithful student this
never fails to bring results, never fails to put him in the way of
understanding and demonstration. With regular practice and constant
application in the daily life, with good judgment as to the details of
practice, length of time at one exercise, etc., the pupil is assured in
one way or another certain convincing experiences which develop
individuality and, with that, his God-like gifts. Thousands have proven
this.
The unnumbered letters of gratitude, the kind words, the warm
hand-clasps, the many testimonials of sick beds forsaken, depressed
spirits revived, vices discontinued, of physical and moral strength
regained, prove that the work of the Spirit is not to be measured by
puny human standards of judgment, prove that simple things--the things
from which we expect the least, in which we put the least ambition or
worldly desire may be those which will yield the "hundred fold" of real
blessing.
The test of any spiritual truth lies in its demonstration and in the
inspiration and faithfulness with which it can be lived. Be true to the
truth and you will demonstrate it. Live the Christ life and the works
will follow; yet seek truth for its own sake, not for its power.
A word about Christian Science. Sometimes persons aver of THE RIGHT
KNOCK that it teaches Christian Science pure and simple. With all due
respect and a recognition of the grand and marvelous work done by Mrs.
Eddy, the author feels called upon to say, in justice to Mrs. Eddy as
well as herself, that this is not true.
There are undoubtedly many similar statements, yet there are many
differences which the careful reader will discover. Please note, for
example, that not matter itself, but matter as the real substance or
power, is denied. Not sickness of the body, but sickness of the Spirit,
is a falsity, etc., etc.
In brief, the author of THE RIGHT KNOCK believes there is a name, place
and condition for _everything_, and that the discrimination of the plane
on which a thing or condition exists, is the key to placing it in the
right relation to the whole.
In conclusion, the author would say most earnestly, study one writer or
teacher at one time, just as you would study music of one instructor at
one time. It is not the many books but _the Book within_ which is to
reveal all things.
God speed you.
HELEN VAN-ANDERSON.
THE RIGHT KNOCK is now in its THIRTEENTH edition, a fact which speaks
for the _great helpfulness_ of the book, and proclaims without further
comment its _world wide Scope_.
THE RIGHT KNOCK.
CHAPTER I.
"When you have resolved to be great, abide by yourself, and do not
weakly try to reconcile yourself with the world."--_Emerson._
There was a brilliant light in all the windows at Terrace Hill. Even the
verandahs were gorgeous with the gayest Chinese lanterns, and every bush
and tree in the lawn did duty as chandelier. Flowers, too, festooned
every arch and embowered every corner, while rare vases fulfilled their
esteemed privilege of holding and showing fragrant blossoms.
Everybody declared the decorations superb, and agreed that no one but
Mrs. Hayden could display such exquisite taste and such perfect judgment
in selection and arrangement. Animated groups of gayly attired guests
sauntered up and down the rose-bowered walks, or promenaded the
verandahs, while sounds of music and merriment from the house proclaimed
the joy that reigned throughout.
"Oh, how beautifully Mrs. Hayden entertains!" remarked Kate Turner to
her friend Grace Hall, as they stopped beside a marble fountain to
survey the scene. "I wonder what place such a woman would take in
society without her wealth," she continued.
"Probably wouldn't have _any_ place, I am sorry to say, because there
are thousands of women just as capable and bright as Mrs. Hayden, yet
because they have no social position, or rather no money to buy
themselves one, they are unrecognized and alone," said Grace, with a
tinge of bitterness in her tone.
"I could never fancy Mrs. Hayden alone or unrecognized, although I only
know her as a society lady, and that mostly through Mrs. Nottingham."
"There is no telling what a person really is till they have gone through
a trial of some kind, or had something disagreeable to bear. _Then_ one
of two things happens: you will see either a saint or a sinner, and I am
not sure which Mrs. Hayden would be. She hasn't yet seen a flame from
the fire of adversity, I'm sure. See how wonderfully she is blessed with
this beautiful home, a good husband and three nice children."
"Oh! it must be lovely to have everything you want," sighed Kate, under
her breath.
Poor Kate! She was alone in the world, making the best of life with her
talent for music and through a mutual friend had been introduced to Mrs.
Hayden, who, after hearing her play, immediately engaged her for Mabel,
and always invited her to the parties, more as a musical attraction,
than out of any real regard, for Mrs. Hayden had an abundance of friends
without troubling herself to cultivate in any warm fashion, the
friendship of a poor little music teacher, thought Kate, somewhat
bitterly.
"But after all, Kate, life would need more than luxuries to make it _my_
ideal of happiness. I should want every human being to be agreeably
employed; every woman, no matter how much or how little she might have,
should be occupied with something that she could put her heart into and
speak to the world through her work, whether it be painting pictures or
darning stockings."
"Now Gracious, you are riding your hobby and you ought to see you can't
ride with all these fine people in your path. Come down at once or I'll
desert you! Let's go in and hear that waltz," and Kate laughingly pulled
the hobby-rider into the path that led to the conservatory where they
could listen to the music.
"What a beautiful home Mrs. Hayden has!" said Mrs. Ferris to her
neighbor with the severe collar and plain hair, as they examined the
exquisite frescoing on the parlor ceiling.
"Yes, but she ought to look into poor homes once in a while. She don't
use her money in the right way. Just think of the good she might do for
our church, if she would contribute to the charity fund, or take some
poor families to look after."
The fat neck folded itself over the severe collar and the face settled
into rigid lines of judgment. Mrs. Dyke was a practical woman and talked
in a practical way. Being a wonderful church worker she naturally
considered it everybody's duty to give when they did not work for the
cause of religion. She belonged to the First Methodist Church on High
St., and talked about "our church" as though there were no other.
Mrs. Ferris was at a loss. She had said something that had not brought
forth a pleasant result. She merely wished to be sociable, and what more
convenient topic than these beautiful surroundings? She was a meek
little woman, who always wanted to say something agreeable or soothing,
and she felt quite frightened at the mistake she had made. She wished
somebody would come to the rescue, but there was no immediate prospect,
and she scarcely knew how to proceed again, but ventured to ask if there
were many poor people who needed attention now.
"Yes, indeed there are no less than fifteen families in the mission
quarter nearest Mrs. Hayden who would consider it a privilege to pick up
the crumbs from her table, and I am afraid she'll have to give an
account _some_ time when the reckoning day comes, for those who have not
'given cups of cold water, or visited the sick languishing in prison.'"
The air almost trembled with a suggestion of something. Little Mrs.
Ferris looked longingly towards the door and just then spied her husband
who was seeking her. After she was gone, Mrs. Dyke looked grimly about,
and not finding any one to listen, she relapsed into a meditative
silence. People always wondered what made Mrs. Dyke so popular that she
received an invitation to every aristocratic party, but it was according
to the old adage, "Where there is a will there is a way."
This was a _gala_ night for Hampton. Such large social parties were
always an event, and no one refused an invitation to Mrs. Hayden's, for
it always meant beautiful rooms, carpets, pictures and _bric-a-brac_,
superb refreshments, and a splendid time generally. Mrs. Hayden was a
favorite with the world because she fed the world with sugar plums, and
after smacking its lips it was always ready for more. And she usually
had one to drop in. To-night it was a remarkably sweet one. This was a
general affair, and every big body and big body's cousins and friends
were there. To be sure they discussed their hostess as freely as though
they were not big bodies, but with rare exceptions the discussion was
complimentary in the extreme. Mrs. Hayden, what she said, what she did,
what she wore, what she served as refreshments the last time, what were
the probabilities next, her children, her husband, what they all did and
said and how they acted, etc., were always interesting themes.
Sometimes, to be sure, there were adverse remarks like Mrs. Dyke's, but
few made them.
Yes, Mrs. Hayden was decidedly popular, and although no one was ever
heard to tell of any particularly grand or noble deed she had done, she
was supposed to be doing good all the time. There were those who, in
earlier years, would have pointed her out as an enthusiastic
philanthropist, eagerly helping whatever project needed her most, but
gradually she had dropped it all, no one knew why, and now her principal
work was to shine in society, at least this was the general verdict of
the adverse few who judged from the superficial standpoint of the world.
Of her inner life they knew nothing as the world knows nothing of any
one's inner life. There may be depths or shallows in any character never
dreamed of by the most intimate friend, much less by the babbling world.
Mrs. Hayden moved about among her guests with a stately grace. She had
always a pleasant faculty of adjusting the broken links of conversation,
supplying a _repartee_ or asking a question, introducing strange
gentlemen and reviving timid _debutantes_ with a pretty compliment or a
gracious smile.
"My dear, I wish you would play something," she whispered to Miss Turner
as she passed her, "I think the group in the drawing room need a little
change;" and no wonder, for there was Mrs. Dyke in a hot dispute with a
Unitarian over Robert Elsmere, while her pastor sat near, occasionally
adding something to Mrs. Dyke's emphatic remarks.
"It's a most blasphemous piece of presumption to present such a picture
as that of the church. As if it were in its last stages of decay,
indeed! It was well such a weak-minded idiot as Robert Elsmere died at
the beginning of his career. I could never forgive the author if she
hadn't killed him," she was saying in an angry voice.
"We can take it simply as a symbol of the decay of his religion, and
that is comforting," added the minister, complacently.
"I am not at all in sympathy with the holy Catherine, with her prejudice
and bigotry. If it wasn't such a true picture of the many Catherines we
find in real life, I should be quite disgusted, but I do love to see
real people in novels, then I know so much better how to deal with
them," said a pretty young lady who aspired to be called intellectual
because she liked to study character.
"Indeed, Catherine had a deep religious nature, which might be worthy of
emulation in many respects, and she is certainly a high ideal of wifely
love," Mrs. Hayden interposed at this critical juncture.
"Well, I didn't read the book for Catherine, but for the sake of knowing
Robert and what he did to make such a stir in the world. I'm opposed to
novels, as a rule, and read as little of one as I can," said Mrs. Dyke,
smoothing her lap and looking at the minister. Mrs. Hayden motioned to
Kate to play, and presently the rooms were filled with harmony.
Kate Turner was a natural musician, and to-night she fairly excelled
herself. The little passage at arms just recorded had inspired her with
emotions that could only be expressed in music, and she played some time
to the continued delight of her listeners. She finished at last with a
song that stirred every heart, and even Mrs. Dyke was visibly softened.
"Verily 'music hath charms to soothe a savage breast,'" murmured the
intellectual young lady, who was sorry that discussion of Robert Elsmere
had been interrupted. She rather enjoyed Mrs. Dyke, for she was an
immensely interesting "character."
This reception, like all others, came to an end at last. Everybody
expressed themselves as highly delighted with their entertainment, and
one by one reluctantly took their departure; the gay lanterns on the
lawn and among the shrubbery went out, the lights inside the splendid
mansion were finally extinguished, and only the quiet starlight
illumined Terrace Hill.
Mrs. Hayden, from her high bay window, looked out over the sleeping
city, then at the North Star that beamed so brightly above her--that
unerring beacon-light that guides so many lost mariners into port. Some
deep thought must have moved her, some hidden impulse stirred her mind.
She sighed. There was no visible reason for it. Then she turned and went
down the stairs to the nursery. Her two babies were sleeping sweetly.
Mabel was asleep in her room, and all was quiet. The hush seemed
oppressive after so much gay confusion. Now she was in another element.
Now she was the mother, then she was a fashionable woman. She hastened
back to her room, once more gazed without and then thoughtfully
retired.