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THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
THE
FREEDOM OF LIFE
BY
ANNIE PAYSON CALL
Author of "Power Through Repose,"
"As a Matter of Course," etc.
BOSTON
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
1905 »
Copyright, 1904, 1905,
By Fraxk Leslie Publishing House (Ihcorpohated).
Copyright, 1905,
By Little, Brown, and Compaity.
Published March, 1905
THx trtnvsBtrrr pbku, oAJfBKnwK, v. t. x.
I /
FREEDOM
« Y" ORD GOD of Israel,—
M Where Thou art we are free !
Call out Thy people, Lord, we pray,
From Egypt unto Thee.
Open our eyes that we may see
Our bondage in the past, —
Oh, help tis, Lord, to keep Thy law.
And make us free at last !
Lord God of Israel, —
Where Thou art we are free !
Freed from the rule of alien minds.
We turn our hearts to Thee.
The alien hand weighs heavily,
And heavy is our sin, —
Thy children cry to Thee, 0 Lord, —
Their God, — to take them in.
Lord God of Israel, —
Where Thou art we are free !
Cast donm our idols from on high.
That we may worship Thee.
In freedom ive will live Thy Love
Out from otir inmost parts ;
Upon our foreheads bind Thy Law, —
Engrave it on our hearts ! "
Amen.
CONTENTS
Introduction Po,ge ix
I. The Freedom of Life . . .
11. How TO Sleep Restfully . .
III. Resistance
IV. Hurry, Worry, and Irritability
V. Nervous Fears
VI. Self-Consciousness
VII. The Circumstances of Life . .
VIII. Other People
IX. Human Sympathy
X. Personal Independence . . .
XI. Self-Control
XII. The Religion of It . . . .
XIII. About Christmas
XIV. To Mothers
1
19
38
51
68
83
98
116
131
145
159
177
191
205
INTRODUCTION
/NTERIOR freedom rests upon the
principle of non-resistance to all the
things which seem evil or painful to
our natural love of self But non-resist-
ance alone can accomplish nothing good
unless, behind it, there is a strong love for
righteousness and truth. By refusing to
resist the ill will of others, or the stress of
circumstances, for the sake of greater use-
fulness and a clearer point of view, we
deepen our conviction of righteousness as
the fundamental law of life, and broaden
our horizon so as to appreciate varying
and opposite points of view. The only
non-resistance that brings this power is
the kind which yields mere personal and
selfish considerations for the sake of prin-
ciples. Selfish and weak yielding must
INTRODUCTION
always do harm. Unselfish yielding, on
the other hand, strengthens the will and
increases strength of purpose as the petty
obstacles of mere self-love are removed.
Concentration alone cannot long remain
wholesome, for it needs the light of grow-
ing self-knowledge to prevent its becom-
ing self-centred. Yielding alone is of no
avail, for in itself it has no constructive
power. But if we try to look at owselves
as we really are, we shall find great
strength in yielding where only our small
and private interests are concerned, and
concentrating upon living the broad prin-
ciples of righteousness which ifiust directly
or indirectly affect all those with whom we
come into contact.
THE
FREEDOM OF LIFE
I
The Freedom of Life
''"W" AM so tired I must give up work,"
I said a young woman with a very
strained and tearful face ; and it
seemed to her a desperate state, for she
was dependent upon work for her bread
and butter. If she gave up work she
gave up bread and butter, and that meant
starvation. When she was asked why
she did not keep at work and learn to do
it without getting so tired, that seemed to
her absurd, and she would have laughed
if laughing had been possible.
" I tell you the work has tired me so
that I cannot stand it, and you ask me
to go back and get rest out of it when I
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
am ready to die of fatigue. Why don't
you ask me to bum myself on a piece
of ice, or freeze myself with a red-hot
poker ? "
" But," the answer was, " it is not the
work that tires you at all, it is the way
you do it;" and, after a little soothing
talk which quieted the overexcited nerves,
she began to feel a dawning intelligence,
which showed her that, after all, there
might be life in the work which she had
come to look upon as nothing but slow
and painful death. She came to under-
stand that she might do her work as if
she were working very lazily, going from
one thing to another with a feeling as
near to entire indifference as she could
cultivate, and, at the same time, do it
well. She was shown by illustrations how
she might walk across the room and take
a book off the table as if her life depended
upon it, racing and pushing over the
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
floor, grabbing the book and clutching it
until she got back to her seat, or, how
she might move with exaggerated lazi-
ness, take the book up loosely, and drag
herself back again. This illustration rep-
resents two extremes, and one, in itself,
is as bad as the other ; but, when the
habit has been one of unnecessary strain
and effort, the lazy way, practised for a
time, will not only be very restful, but
will eventually lead to movement which
is quick as well.
To take another example, you may write
holding the pen with much more force
than is needful, tightening your throat
and tongue at the same time, or you may
drag your pen along the paper and relieve
the tendency to tension in your throat and
tongue by opening your mouth slightly
and letting your jaw hang loosely. These
again are two extremes, but, if the habit
has been one of tension, a persistent prac-
3
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
tice of the extreme of looseness will lead
to a quiet mode of writing in which ten
pages can be finished with the effort it
formerly took to write one.
Sometimes the habit of needless strain
has taken such a strong hold that the
very effort to work quietly seems so un-
natural as to cause much nervous suffer-
ing. To turn the comer from a bad habit
into a true and wholesome one is often
very painful, but, the first pain worked
through, the right habit grows more
and more easy, until finally the better
way carries us along and we take it
involuntarily.
For the young woman who felt she had
come to the end of her powers, it was
work or die ; therefore, when she had
become rested enough to see and under-
stand at all, she welcomed the idea that
it was not her work that tired her, but
the way in which she did it, and she
4
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
listened eagerly to the directions that
should teach her to do it with less fatigue,
and, as an experiment, offered to go back
and try the " lazy way " for a week. At
the end of a week she reported that the
" lazy way " had rested her remarkably,
but she did not do her work so well.
Then she had to learn that she could keep
more quietly and steadily concentrated
upon her work, doing it accurately and
well, without in the least interfering with
the "lazy way." Indeed, the better con-
centrated we are, the more easily and
restfuUy we can work, for concentration
does not mean straining every nerve
and muscle toward our work, — it means
di^opping everything that interferes^ and
strained nerves and muscles constitute a
very bondage of interference.
The young woman went back to her
work for another week's experiment, and
this time returned with a smiling face,
5
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
better color, and a new and more quiet
life in her eyes. She had made the " lazy
way " work, and found a better power of
concentration at the same time. She
knew that it was only a beginning, but
she felt secure now in the certain knowl-
edge that it was not her work that had
been killing her, but the way in which she
had done it ; and she felt confident of her
power to do it restfuUy and, at the same
time, better than before. Moreover, in
addition to practising the new way of
working, she planned to get regular exer-
cise in the open air, even if it had to come
in the evening, and to eat only nourish-
ing food. She has been at work now for
several years, and, at last accounts, was
still busy, with no temptation to stop
because of overfatigue.
If any reader is conscious of suffering
now from the strain of his work and would
like to get rehef, the first thing to do is to
6
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
notice that it is less the work that tires
him than his way of doing it, and the
attitude of his mind toward it. Begin-
ning with that conviction, there comes at
first an interest in the process of dropping
strain and then a new interest in the work
itself, and a healthy concentration in doing
the merest drudgery as well as it can be
done, makes the drudgery attractive and
relieves one from the oppressive fatigue of
uninteresting monotony.
If you have to move your whole body
in your daily work, the first care should
be to move the feet and legs heavily.
Feel as if each foot weighed a ton, and
each hand also ; and while you work take
long, quiet breaths, — breaths such as you
see a man taking when he is very quietly
and soundly sleeping.
If the Work is sedentary, it is a help
before starting in the morning to drop
your head forward very loosely, slowly
7
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
and heavily, and raise it very slowly, then
take a long, quiet breath. Repeat this
several times until you begin to feel a
sense of weight in your head. If there is
not time in the morning, do it at night
and recall the feeling while you are dress-
ing or while you are going to work, and
then, during your work, stop occasionally
just to feel your head heavy and then go
on. Very soon you become sensitive to
the tension in the back of your neck and
drop it without stopping work at all.
Long, quiet breaths while you work
are always helpful. If you are work-
ing in bad air, and cannot change the air,
it is better to try to have the breaths only
quiet and gentle, and take long, full
breaths whenever you are out-of-doors
and before going to sleep at night.
Of course, a strained way of working is
only one cause of nervous fatigue ; there
are others, and even more important ones,
8
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
that need to be understood in order that
we may be freed from the bondage of
nervous strain which keeps so many of us
from our best use and happiness.
Many people are in bondage because
of doing wrong, but many more because of
doing right in the wrong way. Real free-
dom is only found through obedience to
law, and when, because of daily strain, a
man finds himself getting overtired and
irritable, the temptation is to think it
easier to go on working in the wrong way
than to make the effort to learn how
to work in the right way. At first the
effort seems only to result in extra strain,
but, if persisted in quietly, it soon be-
comes apparent that it is leading to less
and less strain, and finally to restful work.
There are laws for rest, laws for work,
and laws for play, which, if we find and
follow them, lead us to quiet, useful lines
of life, which would be impossible without
9
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
them. They are the laws of our own
being, and should carry us as naturally as
the instincts of the animals carry them,
and so enable us to do right in the right
way, and make us so sure of the manner
in which we do our work that we can
give all our attention to the work itself ;
and when we have the right habit of
working, the work itself must necessarily
gain, because we can put the best of our-
selves into it.
It is helpful to think of the instincts of
the beasts, how true and orderly they are,
on their own plane, and how they are
only perverted when the animals have
come under the influence of man. Imag-
ine Baloo, the bear in Mr. Kipling's " Jun-
gle Book," being asked how he managed
to keep so well and rested. He would
look a little surprised and say : " Why, I
follow the laws of my being. How could
I do differently ? " Now that is just the
10
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
difference between man and beast. Man
can do differently. And man has done
differently now for so many generations
that not one in ten thousand really recog-
nizes what the laws of his being are, ex-
cept in ways so gross that it seems as if
we had sunken to the necessity of being
guided by a crowbar, instead of steadily
following the delicate instinct which is
ours by right, and so voluntarily accept-
ing the guidance of the Power who made
us, which is the only possible way to
freedom.
Of course the laws of a man's being
are infinitely above the laws of a beast's.
The laws of a man's being are spiritual,
and the animal in man is meant to be the
servant of his soul. Man's true guiding
instincts are in his soul, — he can obey
them or not, as he chooses ; but the
beast's instincts are in his body, and he
has no choice but to obey. Man can, so
11
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
to speak, get up and look down on him-
self. He can be his own father and his
own mother. From his true instinct he
can say to himself, " you must do this "
or "you must not do that." He can see
and understand his tendency to disobedi-
ence, and he can force hhnself to obey.
Man can see the good and wholesome
animal instincts in himself that lead to
lasting health and strength, and he can
make them all the good servants of his
soul. He can see the tendency to over-
indulgence, and how it leads to disease
and to evil, and he can refuse to permit
that wrong tendency to rule him.
Every man has his own power of dis-
tinguishing between right and wrong,
and his own power of choosing which
way he shall follow. He is left free to
choose God's way or to choose his own.
Through past and present perversions of
natural habit he has lost the delicate
12
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
power of distinguishing the normal from
the abnormal, and needs to be educated
back to it. The benefit of this education
is an intelligent consciousness of the laws
of life, which not only adds to his own
strength of mind and body, but increases
immeasurably his power of use to others.
Many customs of to-day fix and perpet-
uate abnormal habits to such an extent
that, combined with our own selfish inher-
itances and personal perversions, they dim
the light of our minds so that many of us
are working all the time in a fog, more
or less dense, of ignorance and bondage.
When a man chooses the right and re-
fuses the wrong, in so far as he sees it, he
becomes wise from within and from with-
out, his power for distinguishing gradually
improves, the fog lifts, and he finds with-
in himself a sure and delicate instinct
which was formerly atrophied for want
of use.
13
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
The first thing to understand without
the shadow of a doubt, is that man is not
in freedom when he is following his own
selfish instincts. He is only in the appear-
ance of freedom, and the appearance of
freedom, without the reality, leads invari-
ably to the worst bondage. A man who
loves drink feels that he is free if he can
drink as much as he wants, but that leads
to degradation and delirium tremens. A
man who has an inherited tendency
toward the disobedience of any law feels
that he is free if he has the opportunity to
disobey it whenever he wants to. But
whatever the law may be, the results have
only to be carried to their logical conclu-
sion to make clear the bondage to which
the disobedience leads. All this disobedi-
ence to law leads to an inevitable, inflex-
ible, unsurmountable limit in the end,
whereas steady effort toward obedience to
law is unlimited in its development of
14
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
strength and power for use to others.
Man must understand his selfish tenden-
cies in order to subdue and control them,
until they become subject to his own un-
selfish tendencies, which are the spiritual
laws within him. Thus he gradually be-
comes free, — soul and body, — with no
desire to disobey, and with steadily in-
creasing joy in his work and life. So
much for the bondage of doing wrong,
and the freedom of doing right, which it
seems necessary to touch upon, in order
to show clearly the bondage of doing
right in the wrong way, and the freedom
of doing right in the right way.
It is right to work for our daily bread,
and for the sake of use to others, in
whatever form it may present itself The
wrong way of doing it makes unnecessary
strain, overfatigue and illness. The right
way of working gives, as we have said be-
fore, new power and joy in the work ; it
IS
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
often turns even drudgery into pleasure,
for there is a special delight in learning to
apply one's self in a true spirit to " drudg-
ery." The process of learning such true
application of one's powers often reveals
new possibilities in work.
It is right for most people to sleep
eight hours every night. The wrong way
of doing it is to go to sleep all doubled
up, and to continue to work all night in
our sleep, instead of giving up and rest-
ing entirely. The right way gives us
the fullest possible amount of rest and
refreshment.
It is right to take our three meals a
day, and all the nourishing food we need.
The wrong way of doing it, is to eat very
fast, without chewing our food carefully,
and to give our stomachs no restful oppor-
tunity of preparation to receive its food, or
to take good care of it after it is received.
The right way gives us the opportunity
i6
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
to assimilate the food entirely, so that
every bit of fuel we put into our bodies is
burnt to some good purpose, and makes
us more truly ready to receive more.
It is right to play and amuse ourselves
for rest and recreation. We play in the
wrong way when we use ourselves up in
the strain of playing, in the anxiety lest
we should not win in a game, or when we
play in bad air. When we play in the
right way, there is no strain, no anxiety,
only good fun and refreshment and
rest.
We might go through the narrative of
an average life in showing briefly the
wonderful difference between doing right
in the right way, and doing right in the
wrong way. It is not too much to say
that the difference in tendency is as great
as that between life and death.
It is one thing to read about orderly
living and to acknowledge that the ways
17
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
described are good and true, and quite
another to have one's eyes opened and to
act from the new knowledge, day by day,
until a normal mode of life is firmly
established. It requires quiet, steady force
of will to get one's self out of bad, and
well established in good habits. After
the first interest and relief there often has
to be steady plodding before the new way
becomes easy ; but if we do not allow
ourselves to get discouraged, we are sure
to gain our end, for we are opening our-
selves to the influence of the true laws
within us, and in finding and obeying
these we are approaching the only pos-
sible Freedom of Life.
i8
II
How to Sleep Restfully
IT would seeni that at least one might
be perfectly free in sleep. But the
habits of cleaving to mistaken ways
of living cannot be thrown off at night
and taken up again in the morning. They
go to sleep with us and they wake with us.
If, however, we learn better habits of
sleeping, that helps us in our life through
the day. And learning better habits
through the day helps us to get more rest
from our sleep. At the end of a good
day we can settle down more quickly to
get ready for sleep, and, when we wake in
the morning, find ourselves more ready to
begin the day to come.
There are three things that prevent
sleep, — overfatigue, material disturb-
19
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
ances from the outside, and mental dis-
turbances from within.
It is not uncommon to hear people say,
" I was too tired to sleep " — but it is not
generally known how great a help it is
at such times not to try to sleep, but to
go to work deliberately to get rested in
preparation for it. In nine cases out of
ten it is the unwillingness to lie awake
that keeps us awake. We wonder why
we do not sleep. We toss and turn and
wish we could sleep. We fret, and fume,
and worry, because we do not sleep. We
think of all we have to do on the follow-
ing day, and are oppressed with the
thought that we cannot do it if we do not
sleep. First, we try one experiment to
see if it will not make us sleep, and when
it fails, we try another, and perhaps an-
other. In each experiment we are watch-
ing to see if it will work. There are
many things to do, any one of which
20
HOW TO SLEEP RESTFULLY
might help us to sleep, but the watching
to see if they will work keeps ics awake.
When we are kept awake from our
fatigue, the first thing to do is to say over
and over to ourselves that we do not care
whether we sleep or not, in order to imbue
ourselves with a healthy indifference about
it. It will help toward gaining this
wholesome indifference to say " I am too
tired to sleep, and therefore, the first thing
for me to do is to get rested in order to
prepare for sleep. When my brain is well
rested, it will go to sleep ; it cannot help
it. When it is well rested, it will sleep
just as naturally as my lungs breathe, or
as my heart beats. '
In order to rest our brains we want to
lie quietly, relaxing all our muscles, and
taking even, quiet breaths. It is good
when we can take long, full breaths, but
sometimes that is too fatiguing ; and then
we must not only take moderately long
21
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
breaths, but be careful to have them
gentle, quiet, and rhythmic. To make a
plan of breathing and follow it keeps the
mind steadily concentrated on the breath-
ing, and gives the rest of the brain, which
has been working on other things, a chance
to relax and find its own freedom and
rest. It is helpful to inhale while we
count seven, exhale while we count seven,
then rest and breathe naturally while we
count seven, and to repeat the series of
three for seven times ; but to be strict
with ourselves and see that we only do it
seven times, not once more nor once less.
Then we should wait a little and try it
again, — and so keep on for a number of
times, repeating the same series ; and we
should always be sure to have the air in
our bedrooms as fresh as possible. If
the breathing is steady and rhythmical it
helps very much, and to inhale and ex-
hale over and over for half an hour has
22
HOW TO SLEEP RESTFULLY
a very pleasant, quieting effect — some-
times such exercises make us nervous at
first, and, if we are very tired, that often
happens ; but, if we keep steadily at work,
the nervousness disappears and restful
quiet follows which very often brings
restoring and refreshing sleep.
Another thing to remember — and it
is very important — is that an overtired
brain needs more than the usual nourish-
ment. If you have been awake for an
hour, and it is three hours after your last
meal, take half a cup, or a cup of hot milk.
If you are awake for another two hours
take half a cup more, and so, at intervals
of about two hours, so long as you are
awake throughout the night. Hot milk
is nourishing and a sedative. It is not
inconvenient to have milk by the side of
one's bed, and a little saucepan and spirit
lamp, so that the milk can be heated
without getting up, and the quiet simple
23
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
occupation of heating it is sometimes
restful in itself.
There are five things to remember to
help rest an overtired brain : 1. A healthy
indiiFerence to wakefulness. 2. Concen-
tration of the mind on simple things. 3.
Relaxation of the body. 4. Gentle rhyth-
mic breathing of fresh air. 5. Regular
nourishment. If we do not lose courage,
but keep on steadily night after night,
with a healthy persistence in remembering
and practising these five things, we shall
often find that what might have been a
very long period of sleeplessness may be
materially shortened and that the sleep
which follows the practice of the exercises
is better, sounder, and more refreshing,
than the sleep that came before. In many
cases a long or short period of insomnia
can be absolutely prevented by just these
simple means.
Here is perhaps the place to say that all
24
HOW TO SLEEP RESTFULLY
narcotics are in such cases, absolutely
pernicious.
They may bring sleep at the time, but
eventually they lose their effect, and leave
the nervous system in a state of strain
which cannot be helped by anything but
time, through much suffering that might
have been avoided.
When we are not necessarily overtired
but perhaps only a little tired from the
day's work, it is not uncommon to be kept
awake by a flapping curtain or a swinging
door, by unusual noises in the streets, or
by people talking. How often we hear it
said, "It did seem hard when I went to
bed tired last night that I should have
been kept awake by a noise like that —
and now this morning I am more tired
than when I went to bed."
The head nurse in a large hospital said
once in distress : " I wish the nurses
could be taught to step lightly over my
2;
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
head, so that they would not keep me
awake at night." It would have been a
surprise to her if she had been told that
her head could be taught to yield to the
steps of the nurses, so that their walking
would not keep her awake.
It is resistance that keeps us awake in
all such cases. The curtain flaps, and we
resist it ; the door swings to over and over
again, and we resist it, and keep ourselves
awake by wondering why it does not
stop ; we hear noises in the street that we
are unused to, especially if we are accus-
tomed to sleeping in the stillness of the
country, and we toss and turn and wish
we were in a quiet place. All the trouble
comes from our own resistance to the
noise, and resistance is nothing but unwil-
lingness to submit to our conditions.
If we are willing that the curtain should
go on flapping, the door go on slamming,
or the noise in the street continue steadily
26
HOW TO SLEEP RESTFULLY
On, our brains yield to the conditions
and so sleep naturally, because the noise
goes through us, so to speak, and does
not run hard against our unwillingness to
hear it.
There are three facts which may help
to remove the resistance which naturally
arises at any unusual sound when we are
tired and want to get rest.
One is that in almost every sound there
is a certain rhythm. If we yield to the
sound enough to become sensitive to its
rhythm, that, in itself, is soothing, and
what before was keeping us awake now
helps us to go to sleep. This pleasant
effect of finding the rhythm in sound is
especially helpful if one is inclined to lie
awake while travelling in sleeping cars.
The rhythm of sound and motion in sleep-
ing cars and steamers is, in itself, soothing.
If you have the habit of feeling as if you
could never get refreshing sleep in a sleep-
27
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
ing car, first be sure that you have as
much fresh air as possible, and then make
up your mind that you will spend the
whole night, if necessary, in noticing the
rhythm of the motion and sound of the cars.
If you keep your mind steadily on it,
you will probably be asleep in less than
an hour, and, when the car stops, you will
wake only enough to settle comfortably
into the sense of motion when it starts
again. It is pleasant to notice the gentle-
ness with which a good engineer starts his
train at night. Of course there is a differ-
ence in engineers, and some are much
more gentle in starting their engines than
others, but the delicacy with which the
engine is started by the most expert is de-
hghtful to feel, and gives us many a lesson
on the use of gentle beginnings, with other
things besides locomotive engines, and es-
pecially in our dealings with each other.
The second fact with regard to yield-
28
HOW TO SLEEP RESTFULLY
ing, instead of resisting, in order to get to
sleep is that listening alone, apart from
rhythm, tends to make one sleepy, and
this leads us at once to the third fact, that
getting to sleep is nothing but a healthy
form of concentration.
If true concentration is dropping every-
thing that interferes with fixing our atten-
tion upon some wholesome object, it
means merely bringing the brain into a
normal state which induces sleep when
sleep is needed. First we drop everything
that interferes with the one simple sub-
ject, and then we drop that, and are
unconscious.
Of course it may take some time to
make ourselves willing to submit to an
unusual noise if we have the habit of
feeling that we must necessarily be dis-
turbed by it, and, if we can stop the noise,
it is better to stop it than to give ourselves
unnecessary tasks in non-resistance.
29
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
Then again, if we are overtired, our
brains are sometimes so sensitive that
the effect of any noise is hke that of
being struck in a sore spot, and then it
is much more difficult to bear it, and we
can only make the suffering a little less
by yielding and being willing that it
should go on. 1 cannot go to sleep while
some one is knocking my lame arm, nor
can I go to sleep while a noise is hit-
ting my tired brain ; but in such cases
we can give up expecting to go to sleep,
and get a great deal of rest by using
our wills steadily not to resist ; and some-
times, even then, sleep will come upon us
unexpectedly.
With regard to the use of the will, per-
haps the most dangerous pitfall to be
avoided is the use of drugs. It is not
too much to say that they never should
be used at all for cases of pure sleepless-
ness, for with time their power to bring
30
HOW TO SLEEP RESTFULLY
sleep gradually becomes exhausted, and
then the patient finds himself worse off
than before, for the reactionary effect of
the drugs leaves him with exhausted
nerves and a weakened will. All the
strengthening, moral effect which can be
gained from overcoming sleeplessness in
wholesome ways is lost by a recourse to
drugs, and character is weakened instead
of strengthened.
When one has been in the habit of
sleeping in the city, where the noise of
the street is incessant, a change to the
perfect silence of the country will often
keep sleep off quite as persistently as
noise. So with a man who has been in
the habit of sleeping under other abnor-
mal conditions, the change to normal con-
ditions will sometimes keep him awake
until he has adjusted himself to them, and
it is not uncommon for people to be so
abnormal that they resist rhythm itself,
31
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
such as is heard in the roUing of the sea,
or the rushing of a river.
The re-adjustment from abnormal to
normal conditions of sleeping may be
made surely if we set about it with a will,
for we have all nature on our side. Si-
lence is orderly for the night's rest, and
rhythm only emphasizes and enhances the
silence, when it is the rhythm of nature.
The habit of resistance cannot be
changed in a single day — it must take
time ; but if the meaning, the help, and
the normal power of non-resistance is
clearly understood, and the effort to gain
it is persistent, not only the power to
sleep, but a new sense of freedom may be
acquired which is quite beyond the con-
ception of those who are in the daily
habit of resistance.
When we he down at night and be-
come conscious that our arms and our
legs and our whole bodies are resting
32
HOW TO SLEEP RESTFULLY
heavily upon the bed, we are letting go
all the resistance which has been left
stored in our muscles from the activities
of the day.
A cat, when she lies down, lets go all
resistance at once, because she moves
with the least possible effort ; but there
are very few men who do that, and so
men go to their rest with more or less re-
sistance stored in their bodies, and they
must go through a conscious process of
dropping it before they can settle to sleep
as a normal child does, without having to
think about how it is done. The con-
scious process, however, brings a quiet,
conscious joy in the rest, which opens the
mind to soothing influences, and brings a
more profound refreshment than is given
even to the child — and with the refresh-
ment new power for work.
One word more about outside disturb-
ances before we turn to those interior
3 33
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
ones which are by far the most common
preventatives of refreshing sleep. The
reader will say : " How can I be willing
that the noise should go on when I am
not wilHng ? " The answer is, " If you
can see clearly that if you were willing,
the noises would not interfere with your
sleep, then you can find the ability within
you to make yourself willing."
It is wonderful to realize the power we
gain by compelling and controlling our
desires or aversions through the intelli-
gent use of the will, and it is easier to
compel ourselves to do right against temp-
tation than to force ourselves to do wrong
against a true conviction. Indeed it is
most difficult, if not impossible, to force
ourselves to do wrong against a strong
sense of right. Behind all our desires,
aversions, and inclinations each one of us
possesses a capacity for a higher will, the
exercise of which, on the side of order and
34
HOW TO SLEEP RESTFULLY
righteousness, brings into being the great-
est power in human life. The power of
character is always in harmony with the
laws of truth and order, and although we
must sometimes make a great effort of
the will to do right against our inclina-
tions the ease of such effort increases as
the power of character increases, and
strength of will grows steadily by use, be-
cause it receives its life from the eternal
will and is finding its way to harmony
with that.
It is the lower, selfish will that often
keeps us awake by causing interior dis-
turbances.
An actor may have a difficult part to
play, and feel that a great deal depends
upon his success. He stays awake with
anxiety, and this anxiety is nothing but re-
sistance to the possibility of failure. The
first thing for him to do is to teach him-
self to be willing to fail. If he becomes
35
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
willing to fail, then all his anxiety will go,
and he will be able to sleep and get the
rest and new life which he needs in order
to play the part well. If he is willing
to fail, then all the nervous force which
before was being wasted in anxiety is set
free for use in the exercise of his art.
Looking forward to what is going to
happen on the next day, or within a few
days, may cause so much anxiety as to
keep us awake ; but if we have a good,
clear sense of the futility of resistance,
whether our expected success or failure
depends on ourselves or on others, we can
compel ourselves to a quiet willingness
which will make our brains quiet and re-
ceptive to restful sleep, and so enable us
to wake with new power for whatever
task or pleasure may lie before us.
Of course we are often kept awake by
the sense of having done wrong. In such
cases the first thing to do is to make a free
36
HOW TO SLEEP RESTFULLY
acknowledgment to ourselves of the wrong
we have done, and then to make up our
minds to do the right thing at once.
That, if the wrong done is not too serious,
will put us to sleep ; and if the next day
we go about our work remembering the
lesson we have learned, we probably will
have little trouble in sleeping.
If Macbeth had had the truth and cour-
age to tell Lady Macbeth that both he
and she were wicked plotters and mur-
derers, and that he intended, for his part,
to stop being a scoundrel, and, if he had
persisted in caiTying out his good inten-
tions, he would never have *' murdered
sleep."
37
Ill
Resistance
A MAN once grasped a very hot
poker with his hand, and although
he cried out with pain, held on to
the poker. His friend called out to him
to drop it, whereupon the man indignantly
cried out the more.
*' Drop it ? How can you expect me to
think of dropping it with pain like this?
I tell you when a man is suffering, as
I am, he can think of nothing but the
pain."
And the more indignant he was, the
tighter he held on to the poker, and the
more he cried out with pain.
This story in itself is ridiculous, but it
is startlingly true as an illustration of what
people are doing every day.
38
RESISTANCE
There is an instinct in us to drop every
hot poker at once ; and probably we should
be able to drop any other form of unneces-
sary disagreeable sensation as soon as pos-
sible, if we had not lost that wholesome
instinct through want of use. As it is, we
must learn to re-acquire the lost faculty
by the deliberate use of our intelligence
and will.
It is as if we had lost our freedom and
needed to be shown the way back to it,
step by step. The process is slow but
very interesting, if we are in earnest ; and
when, after wandering in the bypaths, we
finally strike the true road, we find our
lost faculty waiting for us, and all that we
have learned in reaching it is so much
added power.
But at present we are dealing in the
main with a world which has no suspicion
of such instincts or faculties as these, and
is suffering along in blind helplessness.
39
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
A man will drop a hot poker as soon as he
feels it burn, but he will tighten his muscles
and hold on to a cold in his head so per-
sistently that he only gets rid of it at all
because nature is stronger than he is, and
carries it off in spite of him.
How common it is to see a woman
entirely wrapped up, with a handkerchief
held to her nose, — the whole body as tense
as it can be, — wondering "Why does it
take so long to get rid of this cold?" To
get free from a severe cold there should
be open and clear circulation throughout
the whole body. The more the circulation
is impeded, the longer the cold will last.
To begin with, the cold itself impedes the
circulation ; and if, in addition, we offer
resistance to the very idea of having a
cold, we tighten our nerves and our bodies
and thereby impede our circulation still
further. It is curious that the more we
resist a cold the more we hold on to it,
40
RESISTANCE
but it is a very evident fact ; and so is its
logical corollary, that the less we resist it
the sooner it leaves us.
It would seem absurd to people who do
not understand, to say : —
"I have caught cold, I must relax and
let it go through me."
But the literal truth is that when we
relax, we open the channels of circulation
in our bodies, and so allow the cold to be
carried off. In addition to the relaxing,
long, quiet breaths help the circulation
still more, and so help the cold to go off
sooner.
In the same way people resist pain and
hold on to it ; when they are attacked with
severe pain, they at once devote their en-
tire attention to the sensation of pain, in-
stead of devoting it to the best means of
getting relief. They double themselves
up tight, and hold on to the place that
hurts. Then all the nervous force tends
41
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
toward the sore place and the tension re-
tards the circulation and makes it difficult
for nature to cure the pain, as she would
spontaneously if she were only allowed to
have her own way.
I once knew a little girl who, whenever
she hit one elbow, would at once deliber-
ately rub the other. She said that she had
discovered that it took her mind away
from the elbow that hurt, and so stopped
its hurting sooner. The use of a counter-
irritant is not uncommon with good physi-
cians, but the counter-irritant only does
what is much more effectually accom-
plished when the patient uses his will and
intelligence to remove the original irritant
by ceasing to resist it.
A man who was troubled with spas-
modic contraction of the throat once
went to a doctor in alarni and distress.
The doctor told him that, in any case,
nothing worse than fainting could happen
42
RESISTANCE
to him, and that, if he fainted away, his
throat would be relieved, because the faint-
ing would relax the muscles of the throat,
and the only trouble with it was contrac-
tion. Singularly, it did not seem to occur
to the doctor that the man might be
taught to relax his throat by the use of
his own will, instead of having to faint
away in order that nature might do it for
him. Nature would be just as ready to
help us if we were intelligent, as when she
has to knock us down, in order that she
may do for us what we do not know
enough to do for ourselves.
There is no illness that could not be
much helped by quiet relaxing on the
part of the patient, so as to allow nature
and remedial agencies to do their work
more easily.
That which keeps relief away in the case
of the cold, of pain, and of many illnesses,
is the contraction of the nerves and
43
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
muscles of the body, which impedes the
curative power of its healing forces. The
contraction of the nerves and muscles of
the body is caused by resistance in the
mind, and resistance in the mind is un-
willingness : unwillingness to endure the
distress of the cold, the pain, or the illness,
whatever it may be ; and the more unwill-
ing we are to suffer from illness, the more
we are hindering nature from bringing
about a cure.
One of the greatest difficulties in life is
illness when the hands are full of work,
and of business requiring attention. In
many cases the strain and anxiety, which
causes resistance to the illness, is even
more severe, and makes more trouble than
the illness itself.
Suppose, for instance, that a man is
taken down with the measles, when he
feels that he ought to be at his office, and
that his absence may result in serious loss
44
RESISTANCE
to himself and others. If he begins by
letting go, in his body and in his mind,
and realizing that the illness is beyond
his own power, it will soon occur to him
that he might as well turn his illness to
account by getting a good rest out of it.
In this frame of mind his chances of early
recovery will be increased, and he may
even get up from his illness with so much
new life and with his mind so much re-
freshed as to make up, in part, for his
temporary absence from business. But,
on the other hand, if he resists, worries,
complains and gets irritable, he irritates
his nervous system and, by so doing is
likely to bring on any one of the disagree-
able troubles that are known to follow
measles ; and thus he may keep himself
housed for weeks, perhaps months, instead
of days.
Another advantage in dropping all re-
sistance to illness, is that the relaxation
45
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
encourages a restful attitude of mind,
which enables us to take the right amount
of time for recovery, and so prevents
either a possible relapse, or our feeling
only half well for a long time, when we
might have felt wholly well from the
time we first began to take up our life
again. Indeed the advantages of non-
resistance in such cases are innumerable,
and there are no advantages whatever in
resistance and unwillingness.
Clear as these things must be to any
intelligent person whose attention is turned
in the right direction, it seems most singu-
lar that not in one case in a thousand are
they dehberately practised. People seem
to have lost their common sense with re-
gard to them, because for generations the
desire for having our own way has held us
in bondage, and confused our standard of
freedom ; more than that, it has befogged
our sense of natural law, and the result is
46
RESISTANCE
that we painfully fight to make water run
up hill when, if we were to give one quiet
look, we should see that better things
could be accomplished, and our own sense
of freedom become keener, by being con-
tent to let the water quietly run down and
find its own level.
It is not normal to be ill and to be kept
from our everyday use, but it is still less
normal for a healthy, intelligent mind to
keep its body ill longer than is necessary
by resisting the fact of illness. Every
disease, though it is abnormal in itself,
may frequently be kept within bounds by
a certain normal course of conduct, and,
if our suffering from the disease itself is
unavoidable, by far our wisest course is to
stand aside, so to 'speak, and let it take its
own course, using all necessary remedies -
and precautions in order that the attack
may be as mild as possible.
Many readers, although they see the
47
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
common sense of such non-resistance,
will find it difficult to practise it, be-
cause of their inheritances and personal
habits.
The man who held the hot poker only
needed to drop it with his fingers ; the
man who is taken ill only needs to
be willing with his mind and to relax
with his nerves in order to hasten his
recovery.
A very useful practice is to talk to
ourselves so quietly and earnestly as to
convince our brains of the true helpful-
ness of being willing, and of the impedi-
ment of our unwillingness. Tell the truth
to yourself over and over, quietly and
without emotion, and steadily and firmly
contradict every temptation to think that
it is impossible not to resist. If men
could once be convinced of the very real
and wonderful power they have of teach-
ing their own brains, and exacting obe-
48
RESISTANCE
dience from them, the resulting new life
and ability for use would make the world
much happier and stronger.
This power of separating the clear,
quiet common sense in ourselves from the
turbulent, wilful rebellion and resistance,
and so quieting our selfish natures and
compelling them to normal behavior, is
truly latent in us all. It may be difficult
at first to use it, especially in cases of
strong, perverted natures and fixed habits,
because in such cases our resistances are
harder and more interior, but if we keep
steadily on, aiming in the right direction,
— if we persist in the practice of keeping
ourselves separate from our unproductive
turbulences, and of teaching our brains
what we know to be the truth, we shall
finally find ourselves walking on level
ground, instead of climbing painfully up
hill. Then we shall be only grateful
for all the hard work which was the
4 49
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
means of bringing us into the clear air
of freedom.
There could not be a better opportunity
to begin our training in non-resistance
than that which illness affords.
50
IV
Hurry, Wor?'y, and Irritability
PROBABLY most people have had
the experience of hurrying to a
train with the feeling that some-
thing held them back, but not many have
observed that their muscles, under such
conditions, actually do pull them back.
If any one wants to prove the correct-
ness of this observation let him watch
himself, especially if it is necessary for him
to go downstairs to get to the station,
while he is walking down the steps. The
drawing back or contracting of the mus-
cles, as if they were intelligently trying to
prevent us from reaching the train on
time, is most remarkable. Of course all
that impeding contraction comes from
resistance, and it seems at first sight very
51
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
strange that we should resist the accom-
plishment of the very thing we want to
do. Why should I resist the idea of
catching a train, when at the same time
I am most anxious to do so ? Why
should my muscles reflect that resistance
by contracting, so that they directly im-
pede my progress? It seems a most
singular case of a house divided against
itself for me to want to take a train, and
for my own muscles, which are given me
for my command, to refuse to take me
there, so that I move toward the train
with an involuntary effort away from it.
But when the truth is recognized, all this
muscular contraction is easily explained.
What we are resisting is not the fact of
taking the train, but the possibility of
losing it. That resistance reflects itself
upon our muscles and causes them to con-
tract. Although this is a practical truth,
it takes us some time to realize that the
52
HURRY, WORRY, AND IRRITABILITY
fear of losing the train is often the only
thing that prevents our catching it. If
we could once learn this fact thoroughly,
and live from our clearer knowledge, it
would be one of the greatest helps toward
taking all things in life quietly and with-
out necessary strain. For the fact holds
good in all hurry. It is the fear of not
accomplishing what is before us in time
that holds us back from its accomplish-
ment.
This is so helpful and so useful a truth
that I feel it necessary to repeat it in many
ways. Fear brings resistance, resistance
impedes our progress. Our faculties are
paralyzed by lack of confidence, and con-
fidence is the result of a true conscious-
ness of our powers when in harmony with
law. Often the fear of not accomplishing
what is before us is the only thing that
stands in our way.
If we put all hurry, whether it be an
53
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
immediate hurry to catch a train, or the
hurry of years toward the accomplishment
of the main objects of our Hves, — if we
put it all under the clear light of this truth,
it will eventually relieve us of a strain
which is robbing our vitality to no end.
First, the times that we must hurry
should be minimized. In nine cases out
of ten the necessity for hurry comes only
from our own attitude of mind, and from
no real need whatever. In the tenth case
we must learn to hurry with our muscles,
and not with our nerves, or, I might better
say, we must hurry without excitement.
To hurry quietly is to most people an
unknown thing, but when hurry is a neces-
sity, the process of successive effort in it
should be pleasant and refreshing.
If in the act of needful hurry we are
constantly teaching ourselves to stop re-
sistance by saying over and over, through
whatever we may be doing, "I am per-
54
HURRY, WORRY, AND IRRITABILITY
fectly willing to lose that train, I am
willing to lose it, I am willing to lose it,"
that will help to remove the resistance,
and so help us to learn how to make haste
quietly.
But the reader will say, " How can I
make myself willing when I am not
willing ? "
The answer is that if you know that
your unwillingness to lose the train is
preventing you from catching it, you cer-
tainly will see the efficacy of being will-
ing, and you will do all in your power
toward yielding to common sense. Un-
willingness is resistance, — resistance in
the mind contracts the muscles, and such
contraction prevents our using the muscles
freely and easily. Therefore let us be
willing.
Of course there is a lazy, selfish indif-
ference to catching a train, or accom-
plishing anything else, which leaves the
55.
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
tendency to hurry out of some tempera-
ments altogether, but with that kind of
a person we are not dealing now. And
such indifference is the absolute opposite
of the wholesome indifference in which
there is no touch of laziness or selfishness.
If we want to avoid hurry we must get
the habit of hurry out of our brains, and
cut ourselves off, patiently and kindly,
from the atmosphere of hurry about us.
The habit gets so strong a hold of the
nerves, and is impressed upon them so
forcibly as a steady tendency, that it can
be detected by a close observer even in a
person who is lying on a lounge in the full
belief that he is resting. It shows itself
especially in the breathing. A wise athlete
has said that our normal breathing should
consist of six breaths to one minute. If
the reader will try this rate of breathing,
the slowness of it will surprise him. Six
breaths to one minute seem to make the
56
HURRY, WORRY, AND IRRITABILITY
breathing unnecessarily slow, and just
double that seems about the right number
for ordinary people ; and the habit of
breathing at this slower rate is a great
help, from a physical standpoint, toward
erasing the tendency to hurry.
One of the most restful exercises any
one can take is to lie at full length on a
bed or lounge and to inhale and exhale,
at a perfectly even, slow rate, for half an
hour. It makes the exercise more restful
if another person counts for the breathing,
say, ten slowly and quickly to inhale, and
ten to exhale, with a little pause to give
time for a quiet change from one breath
to another.
Resistance, which is the mental source
of hurry, is equally at the root of that most
harmful emotion — the habit of worrying.
And the same truths which must be
learned and practised to free ourselves of
the one habit are applicable to the other.
57
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
Take the simple example of a child who
worries over his lessons. Children illus-
trate the principle especially well, because
they are so responsive that, if you meet
them quietly with the truth in difficulties
of this kind they recognize its value and
apply it very quickly, and it takes them,
comparatively, a very little time to get
free.
If you think of telling a child that the
moment he finds himself worrying about
his lesson he should close his book and
say :~
" I do not care whether I get this lesson
or not."
And then, when he has actually per-
suaded himself that he does not care, that
he should open his book and study, — it
would seem, at first sight, that he would
find it difficult to understand you ; but,
on the contrary, a child understands more
quickly than older people, for the child
58
HURRY, WORRY, AND IRRITABILITY
has not had time to establish himself so
firmly in the evil habit.
I have in mind a little girl in whom the
habit had begun of worrying lest she
should fail in her lessons, especially in
her Latin. Her mother sent her to be
taught how not to worry. The teacher,
after giving her some idea of the com-
mon sense of not worrying, taught her
quieting exercises which she practised
every day ; and when one day, in the
midst of one of her lessons, Margaret
seemed very quiet and restful, the teacher
asked : —
" Margaret, could you worry about your
Latin now if you tried ? "
" Yes," said Margaret, " I am afraid I
could."
Nothing more was said, but she went
on with her lessons, and several days
after, during the same restful quiet time,
the teacher ventured again.
59
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
"Now, Margaret, could you worry
about your Latin if you tried ? "
Then came the emphatic answer, " jS%
I could not"
After that the httle girl would say :
"With the part of me that worries, I
do not care whether I get my Latin or
not ; with the part of me that does not
worry, I want to get my Latin very
much ; therefore I will stay in the part of
me that does not worry, and get my
Latin."
A childish argument, and one that may
be entirely incomprehensible to many
minds, but to those who do comprehend,
it represents a very real and practical help.
It is, in most cases, a gi-ave mistake to
reason with a worry. We must first drop
the worry, and then do our reasoning. If
to drop the worry seems impossible, we
can separate ourselves from it enough to
prevent it from interfering with our rea-
60
HURRY, WORRY, AND IRRITABILITY
soning, very much as if it were neuralgia.
There is never any real reason for a worry,
because, as we all know, worry never helps
us to gain, and often is the cause of our
losing, the things which we so much
desire.
Sometimes we worry because we are
tired, and in that case, if we can recognize
the real cause, we should use our wills to
withdraw our attention from the object of
worry, and to get all possible rest at once,
in the confident belief that rest will make
things clear, or at least more clear than
they were when we were tired. It would
be hard to compute the harm that has
been done by kindly disposed people in
reasoning with the wony of a friend, when
the anxiety is increased by fatigue or ill-
ness. To reason with one who is tired or
ill and worried, only increases the mental
strain, and every effort that is made to
reason him out of it aggravates the strain ;
6i
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
until, finally, the poor brain, through
kindly meant effort, has been worked into
an extreme state of irritation or even in-
flammation. For the same reason, a wor-
ried mind should not be laughed at.
Worries that are aroused by fatigue or ill-
ness are often most absurd, but they are
not absurd to the mind that is suffering
from them, and to make fun of them only
brings more pain, and more worry. Gentle,
loving attention, with kindly, truthful
answers, will always help. By such atten-
tion we are really giving no importance
to the worry, but only to our friend, with
the hope of soothing and quieting him
out of his worries, and when he is rested
he may see the truth for himself.
We should deal with ourselves, in such
cases, as gently as 'We would with a friend,
excepting that we can tell the truth to
ourselves more plainly than we can to
most friends.
62
HURRY, WORRY, AND IRRITABILITY
Worrying is resistance, resistance is un-
willingness. Unwillingness interferes with
whatever we may want to accomplish.
To be willing that this, that, or the other
should happen seems most difficult, when
to our minds, this, that, or the other
would bring disaster. And yet, if we can
once see clearly that worrying resistance
tends toward disaster rather than away
from it, or, at the very least, takes away
our strength and endurance, it is only a
matter of time before we become able to
drop our resistance altogether. But it is
a matter of time ; and, when once we are
faced toward freedom, we must be patient
and steady, and not expect to gain very
rapidly. Theirs is indeed a hard lot who
have acquired this habit of worry, and
persist in doing nothing to gain their
freedom.
'* Now I have got something to worry
about for the rest of my life," remarked
63
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
a poor woman once. Her face was set
toward worrying; nothing but her own
will could have turned it the other way,
and yet she deliberately chose not to use
it, and so she was fixed and settled in
prison for the rest of her life.
To worry is wicked ; it is wickedness of
a kind that people often do not recognize
as such, and they are not fuUy responsible
until they do ; but to prove it to be
wicked is an easy matter, when once we
are faced toward freedom ; and, to get
over it, as I have said, is a matter of
steady, persistent patience.
As for irritability, that is also resistance ;
but there are two kinds of irritabihty, —
physical and moral.
There is an irritability that comes when
we are hungry, if we have eaten some-
thing that disagrees with us, if we are
cold or tired or uncomfortable from some
other physical cause. When we feel that
64
HURRY, WORRY, AND IRRITABILITY
kind of irritability we should ignore it,
as we would ignore a little snapping dog
across the street, while at the same time
removing its cause as quickly as we can.
There is nothing that delights the devil
more than to scratch a man with the irri-
tability of hunger, and have him respond
to it at once by being ugly and rude to a
friend ; for then the irritation immediately
becomes moral, and every bit of selfishness
rushes up to join it, and to arouse what-
ever there may be of evil in the man. It
is simple to recognize this merely physical
form of irritability, and we should no
more allow ourselves to speak, or act, or
even think from it, than we should allow
ourselves to walk directly into foul air,
when the good fresh air is close to us
on the other side.
But moral irritability is more serious ;
that comes from the soul, and is the result
of our wanting our own way. The imme-
5 65
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
diate cause may be some physical disturb-
ance, such as noise, or it may be aroused
by other petty annoyances, hke that of
being obhged tp wait for some one who
is unpunctual, or by disagreement in an
argument. There are very many causes
for irritabiUty, and we each have our own
individual sensitiveness or antipathy, but,
whatever the secondary cause, the primary
cause is always the same, — resistance or
unwillingness to accept our circumstances.
If we are fully willing to be disturbed,
we cease to be troubled by the disturb-
ance ; if we are willing to wait, we are not
annoyed by being kept waiting, and we
are in a better, more quiet humor to help
our friend to the habit of promptness. If
we are willing that another should differ
from us in opinion, we can see more clearly
either to convince our friend, if he is wrong,
— or to admit that he is right, and that
we are wrong. The essential condition of
66
HURRY, WORRY, AND IRRITABILITY
good argument is fi'eedom from personal
feeling, with the desire only for the truth,
— whether it comes from one party or the
other.
Hurry, worry, and irritability all come
from selfish resistance to the facts of life,
and the only permanent cure for the waste
of force and the exhausting distress which
they entail, is a willingness to accept those
facts, whatever they may be, in a spirit of
cheerful and reverent obedience to law.
67
V
Nervous Fears
TO argue with nervous anxiety,
either in ourselves or in others, is
never helpful. Indeed it is never
helpful to argue with " nerves " at all.
Arguing with nervous excitement of any
kind is like rubbing a sore. It only irri-
tates it. It does not take long to argue
excited or tired nerves into inflammation,
but it is a long and difficult process to
allay the inflammation when it has once
been aroused. It is a sad fact that many
people have been argued into long nerv-
ous illnesses by would-be kind friends
whose only intention was to argue them
out of illness. Even the kindest and
most disinterested friends are apt to lose
patience when they argue, and that, to
68
NERVOUS FEARS
the tired brain which they are trying to
relieve, is a greater irritant than they
realize. The radical cure for nervous
fears is to drop resistance to painful cir-
cumstances or conditions. Resistance is
unwiUingness to endure, and to drop the
resistance is to be strongly willing. This
vigorous "willingness" is so absolutely
certain in its happy effect, and it is so
impossible that it should fail, that the
resistant impulses seem to oppose them-
selves to it with extreme energy. It is as
if the resistances were conscious imps,
and as if their certainty of defeat — in the
case of their victim's entire " willingness "
— roused them to do their worst, and to
hold on to their only possible means of
power with all the more determination.
Indeed, when a man is working through
a hard state, in gaining his freedom from
nervous fears, these imps seem to hold
councils of war, and to devise new plans
69
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
of attack in order to take him by surprise
and overwhelm him in an emergency.
But every sharp attack, if met with quiet
" willingness," brings a defeat for the
assailants, until finally the resistant imps
are conquered and disappear. Occasion-
ally a stray imp will return, and try to
arouse resistance on what he feels is old
familiar ground, but he is quickly driven
off, and the experience only makes a man
more quietly vigilant and more persistently
" willing."
Perhaps one of the most prevalent and
one of the hardest fears to meet, is that of
insanity, — especially when it is known
to be a probable or possible inheritance.
When such fear is oppressing a man, — to
tell him that he not only can get free
from the fear, but free from any possibility
of insanity, through a perfect willingness
to be insane, must seem to him at first a
monstrous mockery ; and, if you cannot
70
NERVOUS FEARS
persuade him of the truth, but find that
you are only frightening him more, there
is nothing to do then but to be wilUng
that he should not be persuaded, and to
wait for a better opportunity. You can
show him that no such inheritance can
become an actuahty, unless we permit it,
and that the very knowledge of an heredi-
tary tendency, when wholesomely used,
makes it possible for us to take every
precaution and to use every true safe-
guard against it. The presence of danger
is a source of strength to the brave ; and
the source of abiding courage is not in the
nerves, but in the spirit and the will
behind them. It is the clear statement of
this fact that will persuade him. The fact
may have to be stated many times, but it
should never be argued. And the more
quietly and gently and earnestly it is
stated, the sooner it will convince, for it
is the truth that makes us free.
71
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
Fear keeps the brain in a state of
excitement. Even when it is not con-
sciously felt, it is felt sub-consciously, and
we ought to be glad to have it aroused,
in order that we may see it and free our-
selves, not only from the particular fear
for the time being, but from the sub-
conscious impression of fear in general.
Is seems curious to speak of grappling
with the fear of insanity, and conquering
it by being perfectly willing to be insane,
but it is no more curious than the relation
of the centrifugal and the centripetal
forces to each other. We need our ut-
most power of concentration to enable us
to yield truly, and to be fully willing to
submit to whatever the law of our being
may require. Fear contracts the brain
and the nerves, and interrupts the circula-
tion, and want of free circulation is a
breeder of disease. Dropping resistance
relaxes the tension of the brain and
72
NERVOUS FEARS
nerves, and opens the channels for free
circulation, and free circulation helps to
carry off the tendency to disease. If a
man is wholesomely willing to be insane,
should such an affliction overtake him,
he has dropped all resistance to the idea
of insanity, and thus also to all the men-
tal and physical contractions that would
foster insanity. He has dropped a strain
which was draining his brain of its proper
strength, and the result is new vigor to
mind and body. To drop an inherited
strain produces a great and wonderful
change, and all we need to bring it about
is to thoroughly understand how possible
and how beneficial it is. If we once
realize the benefit of dropping the strain,
our will is there to accomplish the rest,
as surely as it is there to take our hand
out of the fire when it burns.
Then there is the fear of contagion.
Some people are haunted with the fear
73
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
of catching disease, and the contraction
which such resistance brings induces a
physical state most favorable to conta-
gion. There was once a Uttle child
whose parents were so full of anxious
fears that they attempted to protect him
from disease in ways that were extreme
and ridiculous. All his toys were boiled,
everything he ate or drank was sterilized,
and many other precautions were taken,
— but along with all the precautions, the
parents were in constant fear ; and it is
not unreasonable to feel that the reflection
upon the child of the chronic resistance
to possible danger with which he was
surrounded, had something to do with the
fact that the dreaded disease was finally
caught, and that, moreover, the child did
not recover. If reasonably healthy con-
ditions had been insisted upon, and the
parents had felt a wholesome trust in the
general order of things, it would have
74
NERVOUS FEARS
been likely to make the child more vigo-
rous, and would have tended to increase
his capacity for throwing off contagion.
Children are very sensitive, and it is
not unusual to see a child crying because
its mother is out of humor, even though
she may not have spoken a cross word.
It is not unusual to see a child contract
its little brain and body in response to
the fears and contractions of its parents,
and such contraction keeps the child in
a state in which it may be more difficult
to throw off disease.
If you hold your fist as tight as you can
hold it for fifteen minutes, the fatigue you
will feel when it relaxes is a clear proof of
the energy you have been wasting. The
waste of nervous energy would be much
increased if the fist were held tightly for
hours ; and if the waste is so great in
the useless tightening of a fist, it is still
greater in the extended and continuous
75
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
contraction of brain and nerves in useless
fears ; and the energy saved through drop-
ping the fears and their accompanying
tension can bring in the same proportion
a vigor unknown before, and at the same
time afford protection against the very
things we feared.
The fear of taking cold is so strong in
many people that a draught of fresh air
becomes a bugaboo to their contracted,
sensitive nerves. Draughts are imagined
as existing everywhere, and the contrac-
tion which immediately follows the sensa-
tion of a draught is the best means of
preparing to catch a cold.
Fear of accident keeps one in a constant
state of unnecessary terror. To be willing
that an accident should happen does not
make it more likely to happen, but it pre-
vents our wasting energy by resistance,
and keeps us quiet and free, so that if an
emergency of any kind arises, we are pre-
1^
NERVOUS FEARS
pared to act promptly and calmly for the
best. If the amount of human energy
wasted in the strain of nervous fear could
be measured in pounds of pressure, the
figures would be astonishing. Many peo-
ple who have the habit of nervous fear
in one form or another do not throw it off
merely because they do not know how.
There are big and little nervous fears, and
each and all can be met and conquered, —
thus bringing a freedom of life which can-
not even be imagined by those carrying
the burden of fear, more or less, through-
out their lives.
The fear of what people will think of us
is a very common cause of slavery, and the
nervous anxiety as to whether we do or
do not please is a strain which wastes the
energy of the greater part of mankind. It
seems curious to measure the force wasted
in sensitiveness to public opinion as you
would measure the waste of power in an
n
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
engine, and yet it is a wholesome and im-
personal way to think of it, — until we find
a better way. It relieves us of the morbid
element in the sensitiveness to say, " I
cannot mind what so-and-so thinks of me,
for I have not the nervous energy to
spare." It relieves us still more of the
tendency to morbid feeling, if we are
wholesomely interested in what others
think of us, in order to profit by it, and
do better. There is nothing morbid or
nervous about our sensitiveness to opinion,
when it is derived from a love of criticism
for the sake of its usefulness. Such a
rightful and wise regard for the opinion of
others results in a saving of energy, for on
the one hand, it saves us from the mis-
takes of false and shallow independence,
and, on the other, from the wasteful strain
of servile fear.
The little nervous fears are countless.
The fear of not being exact. The fear of
78
NERVOUS FEARS
not having turned off the gas entirely.
The fear of not having done a Httle daily
duty which we find again and again we
have done. These fears are often increased,
and sometimes are aroused, by our being
tired, and it is well to realize that, and to
attend at once carefully to whatever our
particular duty may be, and then, when
the fear of not having done it attacks us,
we should think of it as if it were a physi-
cal pain, and turn our attention quietly to
something else. In this way such httle
nagging fears are relieved ; whereas, if we
allowed ourselves to be driven by them,
we might bring on nervous states that
would take weeks or months to overcome.
These nervous fears attack us again and
again in subtle ways, if we allow ourselves
to be influenced by them. They are all
forms of unwillingness or resistance, and
may all be removed by dropping the resis-
tance and yielding, — not to the fear, but
79
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
to a willingness that the fear should be
there.
One of the small fears that often makes
life seem unbearable is the fear of a den-
tist. A woman who had suffered from
this fear for a lifetime, and who had been
learning to drop resistances in other ways,
was once brought face to face with the
necessity for going to the dentist, and the
old fear was at once aroused, — something
like the feeling one might have in preparing
for the guillotine, — and she suffered from
it a day or two before she remembered her
new principles. Then, when the new
ideas came back to her mind, she at once
applied them and said, " Yes, I am afraidy
I am awfully afraid. I am perfectly
willing to be afraid,'' and the ease with
which the fear disappeared was a surprise,
— even to herself.
Another woman who was suffering in-
tensely from fear as to the after-effects of
80
NERVOUS FEARS
an operation, had begun to tremble with
great nervous intensity. The trembhng
itself frightened her, and when a friend
told her quietly to be willing to tremble,
her quick intelligence responded at once.
" Yes," she said, " I will, I will make my-
self tremble," and, by not only being will-
ing to tremble, but by making herself
tremble, she got quiet mental relief in a
very short time, and the trembling disap-
peared.
The fear of death is, with its deriva-
tives, of course, the greatest of all; and
to remove our resistance to the idea of
death, by being perfectly willingly to die
is to remove the foundation of all the
physical cowardice in life, and to open the
way for the growth of a courage which
is strength and freedom itself. He who
yields gladly to the ordinary facts of life,
will also yield gladly to the supreme fact
of physical death, for a brave and happy
6 8i
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
willingness is the characteristic habit of
his heart : —
" Under the wild and starry sky.
Dig the grave and let me lie ;
Gladly I lived and gladly die,
And I lay me down with a will."
There is a legend of the Arabs in which
a man puts his head out of his tent and
says, " I will loose my camel and commit
him to God," and a neighbor who hears
him says, in his turn, " I will tie my camel
and commit him to God." The true help-
fulness from non-resistance does not come
from neglecting to take proper precau-
tions against the objects of fear, but from
yielding with entire willingness to the
necessary facts of life, and a sane confi-
dence that, whatever comes, we shall be
provided with the means of meeting it.
This confidence is, in itself, one of the
greatest sources of intelligent endurance.
82
VI
Self-Consciousness
SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS may be
truly defined as a person's inability
to get out of his own way. There
are, however, some people who are so en-
tirely and absolutely self-conscious that
everything they do, even though it may
appear spontaneous and ingenuous, is ob-
served and admired and approved of by
themselves, — indeed they are supported
and sustained by their self-consciousness.
They are so completely in bondage to
themselves that they have no glimpse of
the possibility of freedom, and therefore
this bondage is pleasant to them.
With these people we have, at present,
nothing to do; it is only those who have
begun to realize their bondage as such, or
83
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
who suffer from it, that can take any steps
toward freedom. The self-satisfied slaves
must stay in prison until they see where
they are — and it is curious and sad to see
them rejoicing in bondage and miscalling
it freedom. It makes one long to see them
struck by an emergency, bringing a flash
of inner light which is often the beginning
of an entire change of state. Sometimes
the enlightenment comes through one kind
of circumstance, sometimes through an-
other; but, if the glimpse of clearer sight
it brings is taken advantage of, it will
be followed by a time of groping in the
dark, and always by more or less suffering.
When, however, we know that we are in
the dark, there is hope of our coming to
the light; and suffering is nothing what-
ever after it is over and has brought its
good results.
If we were to take away the prop of self-
approval entirely and immediately from
84
SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS
any one of the habitually self-satisfied
people, the probable result would be an
entire nervous collapse, or even a painful
form of insanity; and, in all changes of
state from bondage to freedom, the pro-
cess is and must be exceedingly slow. No
one ever strengthened his character with
a wrench of impatience, although we are
often given the opportunity for a firm and
immediate use of the will which leaves
lasting strength behind it. For the main
growth of our lives, however, we must be
steadily patient, content to aim in the true
direction day by day, hour by hour, minute
by minute. If we fall, we must pick our-
selves up and go right on, — not stop to
be discouraged for one instant after we
have recognized our state as a temptation.
Whatever the stone may be that we have
tripped ov^er, we have learned that it is
there, and, while we may trip over the
same stone many times, if we learn our
85
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
lesson each time, it decreases the possible
number of stumbles, and smooths our
paths more than we know.
There is no exception to the necessity
for this patient, steady plodding in the
work required to gain our freedom from
self-consciousness. It is when we are
aware of our bondage that our oppor-
tunity to gain our freedom from it really
begins. This bondage brings very real suf-
fering, and we may often, without exagger-
ation, call it torture. It is sometimes even
extreme torture, but may have to be en-
dured for a lifetime unless the sufferer has
the clear light by which to find his freedom ;
and, unfortunately, many who might have
the light will not use it because they are
unwilling to recognize the selfishness that
is at the root of their trouble. Some women
like to call it "shyness," because the name
sounds well, and seems to exonerate them
from any responsibility with regard to their
86
SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS
defect. Men will rarely speak of their self-
consciousness, but, when they do, they
are apt to speak of it with more or less
indignation and self-pity, as if they were
in the clutches of something extraneous
to themselves, and over which they can
never gain control. If, when a man is
complaining of self-consciousness and of
its interference with his work in life, you
tell him in all kindness that all his suffer-
ing has its root in downright selfishness,
he will, in most cases, appear not to hear,
or he will beg the question, and, having
avoided acknowledging the truth, will con-
tinue to complain and ask for help, and
perhaps wonder whether hypnotism may
not help him, or some other form of
"cure." Anything rather than look the
truth in the face and do the work in him-
self which is the only possible road to
lasting freedom. Self-pity, and what
may be called spiritual laziness, is at
2>7
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
the root of most of the self-torment in
the world.
How ridiculous it would seem if a man
tried to produce an electric burner accord-
ing to laws of his own devising, and then
sat down and pitied himself because the
light would not burn, instead of searching
about until he had found the true laws of
electricity whose application would make
the light shine successfully. How ridicu-
lous it would seem if a man tried to make
water run up hill without providing that
it should do so by reaching its own level,
and then got indignant because he did
not succeed, and wondered if there were
not some " cure " by means of which his
object might be accompUshed. And yet
it is no more strange for a man to disobey
habitually the laws of character, and then
to suffer for his disobedience, and wonder
why he suffers.
There is an external necessity for obeying
SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS
social laws which must be respected, or
society would go to pieces ; and there is
just as great an internal necessity for
obeying spiritual laws to gain our proper
self-control and power for use ; but we do
not recognize that necessity because, while
disregarding the laws of character, we can
still hve without the appearance of doing
harm to the community. Social laws
can be respected in the letter but not
in the spirit, whereas spiritual laws must
be accepted by the individual heart and
practised by the individual will in order
to produce any results whatever. Each
one of us must do the required work in
himself. There is no " cure," no help
from outside which can bring one to a
lasting freedom.
If self-consciousness makes us blush,
the more we are troubled the more it in-
creases, until the blushing may become so
unbearable that we are tempted to keep
89
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
away from people altogether ; and thus
life, so far as human fellowship goes,
would become more and more limited.
But, when such a limitation is allowed to
remain within us, and we make no effort
of our own to find its root and to extermi-
nate it, it warps us through and through.
If self-consciousness excites us to talk,
and we talk on and on to no end, simply
allowing the selfish suffering to goad us,
the habit weakens our brains so that in
time they lose the power of strong con-
secutive thought and helpful brevity.
If self-consciousness causes us to wrig-
gle, and strain, and stammer, and we do
not recognize the root of the trouble and
shun it, and learn to yield and quietly re-
lax our nerves and muscles, of course the
strain becomes worse. Then, rather than
suffer from it any longer, we keep away
from people, just as the blushing man is
tempted to do. In that case, the strain
90
SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS
is still in us, in the back of our brains,
so to speak — because we have not faced
and overcome it.
Stage fright is an intense form of self-
consciousness, but the man who is in-
capable of stage fright lacks the sensitive
temperament required to achieve great
power as an artist. The man who over-
comes stage fright by getting out of his
own way, and by letting the character he
is playing, or the music he is interpreting,
work through him as a clear, unselfish
channel, receives new power for his work
in the proportion that he shuns his own
interfering selfishness.
But it is with the self-consciousness of
everyday life that we have especially to do
now, and with the practical wisdom neces-
sary to gain freedom from all its various
discomforts ; and, even more than that, to
gain the new power for useful service which
comes from the possession of that freedom.
91
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
The remedy is to be found in obedience
to the law of unselfishness, carried out
into the field of nervous suffering.
Whatever one may think, however
one may try to dodge the truth by this
excuse or that, the conditions to be fulfilled
in order to gain freedom from self-con-
sciousness are absolutely within the indi-
vidual who suffers. When we once
understand this, and are faced toward the
truth, we are sure to find our way out,
with more or less rapidity, according to
the strength with which we use our wills
in true obedience.
First, we must be willing to accept the
effects of self-consciousness. The more
we resist these effects the more they force
themselves upon us, and the more we
suffer from them. We must be willing
to blush, be Mailing to realize that we
have talked too much, and perhaps made
ourselves ridiculous. We must be willing
92
SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS
to feel the discomforts of self-conscious-
ness in whatever form they may appear.
Then — the central point of all — we
must know and understand, and not
dodge in the very least the truth that
the root of self-consciousness is selfishly
caring what other people think of us, — and
wanting to appear well before them.
Many readers of this article who suffer
from self-consciousness will want to deny
this ; others will acknowledge it, but will
declare their inability to live according to
the truth ; some, — perhaps more than a
few, — will recognize the truth and set to
work with a will to obey it, and how
happily we may look forward to the free-
dom which will eventually be theirs !
A wise man has said that when people
do not think well of us, the first thing to
do is to look and see whether they are
right. In most cases, even though they
may have unkind feelings mingled with
93
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
their criticism, there is an element of
truth in it from which we may profit.
In such cases we are much indebted to our
critics, for, by taking their suggestions, we
are helped toward strength of character
and power for use. If there is no truth
in the criticism, we need not think of it
at all, but live steadily on, knowing that
the truth will take care of itself
We should be willing that any one
should think anything of us, so long as
we have the strength of a good conscience.
We should be willing to appear in any
light if that appearance will enhance our
use, or is a necessity of growth. If an
awkward appearance is necessary in the
process of our journey toward freedom,
we must not resist the fact of its existence,
and should only dwell on it long enough
to shun its cause in so far as we can, and
gain the good result of the greater freedom
which will follow.
94
SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS
It is because the suffering from self-
consciousness is often so intense that
freedom from it brings, by contrast, so
happy and so strong a sense of power.
There is a school for the treatment of*
stammerers in this country in which the
pupils are initiated into the process of cure
by being required to keep silence for a
week. This would be a most helpful
beginning in a training to overcome self-
consciousness. We should recognize first
that we must be willing to endure the
effects of self-consciousness without re-
sistance. Secondly, we should admit that
the root of self-consciousness lies entirely
in a selfish desire to appear well before
others. If, while* recognizing these two
essential truths and confirming them until
they are thoroughly implanted in our
brains, we should quietly persist in going
among people, the practice of silent atten-
tion to others would be of the greatest
95
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
value in gaining real freedom. The prac-
tice of attentive and sympathetic silence
might well be followed by people in gen-
eral far more than it is. The protection
of a loving, unselfish silence is very great :
a silence which is the result of shunning
all selfish, self-assertive, vain, or affected
speech ; a silence which is never broken
for the sake of "making conversation,"
*' showing off," or covering selfish em-
barrassment ; a silence which is full of
sympathy and interest, — the power of
such a silence cannot be overestimated.
If we have the evil habit of talking for
the sake of winning approval, we should
practise this silence ; or if we talk for the
sake of calling attention to ourselves, for
the sake of winning sympathy for our
selfish pains and sorrows, or for the sake
of indulging in selfish emotions, nothing
can help us more than the habit of loving
and attentive silence.
96
SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS
Only when we know how to practise
this — in an impersonal, free and quiet
spirit, one which is not due to outward
repression of any kind — are we able to
talk with quiet, loving, helpful speech.
Then may we tell the clean truth without
giving unnecessary offence, and then may
we soothe and rest, as well as stimulate in
wholesome ways ; then, also, will our
minds open to receive the good that may
come to us through the words and actions
of others.
97
I
VII
The Circuvistances of Life
T is not the circumstances of life that
trouble or weigh upon us, it is the
way we take them. If a man is play-
ing a difficult game of chess, the more in-
tricate the moves the more thoughtfully
he looks over his own and his opponent's
men, and the more fully he is aroused to
make the right move toward a checkmate.
If, when the game became difficult, the
player stopped to be depressed and dis-
heartened, his opponent would probably
always checkmate him ; whereas, in most
cases, the more difficult the game the
more thoroughly the players are aroused
to do their best, and a difficult game is in-
variably a good one, — the winner and the
98
THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF LIFE
loser both feel it to be so, — even though
the loser may regret his loss. But — the
reader will say — a game of chess is a
game only, — neither one's bread and but-
ter nor one's life depend upon winning
or losing it. If, however, we need to be
cool and quiet and trustful for a game,
which is merely an amusement, and if we
play the game better for being cool and
quiet and trustful, why is not a quiet
steadiness in wrestling with the circum-
stances of life itself just as necessary, not
only that we may meet the particular
problem of the moment truly, but that
we may gain all the experience which
may be helpful in meeting other difficult
circumstances as they present themselves.
We must first convince ourselves thor-
oughly of the truth that circumstances,
HOWEVER DIFFICULT, ARE ALWAYS
WITHOUT EXCEPTION, OPPORTUNITIES, AND
NOT LIMITATIONS.
99
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
They are not by any means opportuni-
ties for taking us in the direction that our
own selfishness would have us go ; they
are opportunities which are meant to
guide us in the direction we most need to
follow, — in the ways that will lead us
to the greatest strength in the end.
The most unbelieving of us will admit
that " there is a destiny which shapes our
ends, rough hew them as we may," and it
is in the stupid resistance to having our
ends shaped for us that we stop and groan
at what we call the limitations of circum-
stances.
If we were quickly alert to see where
circumstances had placed the gate of op-
portunity, and then steadily persisted in
going through it, it would save the loss of
energy and happiness which results from
obstinately beating our heads against a
stone wall where there is no gate, and
where there never can be a gate.
lOO
THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF LIFE
Probably there is hardly a reader who
will not recall a number of cases in which
circumstances appear to have been only
limitations to him or to his friends ; but
if he will try with a willing mind to find
the gate of opportunity which was not
used, he will be surprised to learn that it
was wide open all the time, and might
have led him into a new and better
country.
The other day a little urchin playing in
the street got in the way of a horse, and
just saved himself from being run over by
a quick jump ; he threw up his arms and
in a most cheerful voice called out, " It 's
all right, only different ! " If the horse
had run over him, he might have said the
same thing and found his opportunity to
more that was good and useful in life
through steady patience on his bed. The
trouble is that we are not willing to call
it " all right " unless it is the same, — the
lOI
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
same in this case meaning whatever may
be identical with our own personal ideas
of what is "all right." That expressive
little bit of slang is full of humor and full
of common sense.
If, for instance, when we expect some-
thing and are disappointed, we could at
once yield out of our resistance and
heartily exclaim, "it is all right, only
different," how much sooner we should
discover the good use in its being differ-
ent, and how soon we should settle into
the sense of its being " all right ! " When
a circumstance that has seemed to us all
wrong can be made, through our quiet
way of meeting it, to appear "all right,
only different," it very soon leads to a
wholesome content in the new state of
affairs or to a change of circumstances to
which we can more readily and happily
adjust ourselves.
A strong sense of something's being
1 02
THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF LIFE
" all right " means a strong sense of will-
ingness that it should be just as it is.
With that clear willingness in our hearts
in general, we can adjust ourselves to
anything in particular, — even to very
sudden and unexpected changes. It is
carrying along with us a backgi'ound of
powerful non-resistance which we can
bring to the front and use actively at a
moment's notice.
It seems odd to think of actively using
non-resistance, and yet the expression is
not as contradictory as it would appear,
for the strength of will it takes to attain
an habitual attitude of wholesome non-
resistance is far beyond the strength of
will required to resist unwholesomely.
The stronger, the more fixed and immov-
able the centre, the more free and adapt-
able are the circumferences of action ; and,
even though our central principle is fixed
and immovable, it must be elastic enough
103
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
to enable us to change our point of view
whenever we find that by so doing we can
gain a broader outlook and greater power
for use.
To acquire the strength of will for this
habitual non-resistance is sometimes a
matter of years of practice. We have to
compel ourselves to be " willing," over
and over again, at each new opportunity ;
sometimes the opportunities seem to
throng us ; and this, truly considered, is
only a cause for gratitude.
In life the truest winning often comes
first under the guise of failure, and it is
willingness to accept failure, and intelli-
gence in understanding its causes, and
using the acquired knowledge as a means
to a higher end, that ultimately brings
true success. If we choose, a failure can
always be used as a means to an end
rather than as a result in itself.
How often do we hear the complaint,
104
THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF LIFE
" I could do so well if it were not for my
circumstances." How many people are
held down for a lifetime by the habitual
belief in circumstances as limitations, and
by ignoring the opportunities which they
afford.
" So long as I must live with these peo-
ple I can never amount to anything." If
this complaint could be changed to the
resolve : "I will live with these people
until I have so adjusted myself to them as
to be contented," a source of weakness
would be changed into a source of
strength. The quiet activity of mind
required to adjust ourselves to difficult
surroundings gives a zest and interest to
life which we can find in no other way,
and adds a certain strength to the charac-
ter which cannot be found elsewhere. It
is interesting to observe, too, how often it
happens that, when we have adjusted our-
selves to difficult circumstances, we are
105
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
removed to other circumstances which are
more in sympathy with our own thoughts
and ways : and sometimes to cu'cum-
stances which are more difficult still, and
require all the strength and wisdom which
our previous discipline has taught us.
i/^If we are alive to our own true free-
dom, we should have an active interest
in the necessary warfare of life. For hfe
is a warfare — not of persons, but of prin-
ciples — and every man who loves his
freedom loves to be in the midst of the
battle. Our tendencies to selfish discon-
tent are constantly warring against our
love of usefulness and service, and he who
wishes to enjoy the full activity of free-
dom must learn to fight and to destroy
the tendencies within himself which stand
in the way of his own obedience to law.
But he needs, for this, the truthful and
open spirit which leads to wise self-knowl-
edge ; a quiet and a willing spirit, to make
io6
THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF LIFE
the necessary sacrifice of selfish pride.
His quiet earnestness will give him the
strength to carry out what his clear vision
will reveal to him in the light of truth.
He will keep his head lifted up above his
enemies round about him, so that he may
steadily watch and clearly see how best to
act. After periods of hard fighting the
intervals of rest will be full of refreshment,
and will always bring new strength for
further activity. If, in the battle with
difficult circumstances, we are thrown
down, we must pick ourselves up with
quick decision,^ and not waste a moment
in complaint or discouragement. We
should emphasize to ourselves the neces-
sity for picking ourselves up immediately,
and going directly on, over and over
again, — both for our own benefit, and
the benefit of those whom we have the
privilege of helping.
In the Japanese training of " Jiu Jitsu,"
107
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
the idea seems to be to drop all subjec-
tive resistance, and to continue to drop it,
until, through the calmness and clearness
of sight that comes from quiet nerves and
a free mind, the wrestler can see where to
make the fatal stroke. When the right
time has arrived, the only effort which is
necessary is quick, sharp and conclusive.
This wonderful principle is often misused
for selfish ends, and in such cases it leads
eventually to bondage because, by the
successful satisfaction of selfish motives, it
strengthens the hold of our selfishness
upon us ; but, when used in an unselfish
spirit, it is an ever-increasing source of
strength. In the case of difficult circum-
stances,— if we cease to resist,' — if we
accept the facts of life, — if we are willing
to be poor, or ill, or disappointed, or to live
with people we do not like, — we gain a
quietness of nerve and a freedom of mind
which clears off* the mists around us, so
1 08
THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF LIFE
that our eyes may see and recognize the
gate of opportunity, — open before us.
It is the law of concentration and relax-
ation. If we concentrate on being willing,
on relaxing until we have dropped every
bit of resistance to the circumstances about
us, that brings us to a quiet and weU-
balanced point of view, whence we can see
clearly how to take firm and decided
action. From such action the re-action
is only renewed strength, — never painful
and contracting weakness. If we could
give up all our selfish desires and resist-
ances, circumstances, however difficult,
would have no power whatever to trouble
us. To reach such absolute willingness is
a long journey, but there is a straight path
leading nearer and nearer to the happy
freedom which is our goal.
Self-pity is one of the states that inter-
feres most effectually with making the
right use of circumstances. To pity one's
109
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
self is destruction to all possible freedom.
If the reader finds himself in the throes of
this weakness and is helped through these
words to recognize the fact, let him hasten
to shun it as he would shun poison, for it
is progressively weakening to soul and
body. It will take only slight difficulties
of any kind to overthrow us, if we are
overcome by this temptation.
Imagine a man in the planet Mars
wanting to try his fortunes on another
planet, and an angel appearing to him
with permission to transfer him to the
earth.
" But," the angel says, " of course you
can have no idea of what the life is upon
the new planet unless you are placed in the
midst of various circumstances which are
more or less common to its inhabitants."
" Certainly," the Martian answers, " I
recognize that, and I want to have my ex-
perience on this new planet as complete as
no
THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF LIFE
possible ; therefore the more characteristic
and difficult my circumstances are the
better." Then imagine the interest that
man would have, from the moment he was
placed on the earth, in working his way
through, and observing his experience as
he worked.
His interest would be alive, vivid, and
strong, from the beginning until he found
himself, with earthly experience completed,
ready to return to his friends in Mars.
He would never lose courage or be in any
way disheartened. The more difficult his
earthly problem was, the more it would
arouse his interest and vigor to solve it.
So many people prefer a difficult problem
in geometry to an easy one, then why not
in life ? The difference is that in mathe-
matics the head alone is exercised, and in
life the head and the heart are both
brought into play, and the first difficulty
is to persuade the head and heart to work
III
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
together. In the visitor from Mars, of
course, the heart would be working with
the head, and so the whole man would
be centred on getting creditably through
his experience and home again. If our
hearts and heads were together equally
concentrated on getting through our ex-
perience for the sake of the greater power
of use it would bring, — and, if we could
trustfully believe in getting home again,
that is, in getting established in the cur-
rent of ordinary spiritual and natural action,
then life would be really alive for us, then
we should actually get the scent of our true
freedom, and, having once had a taste of
it, we should have a fresh incentive in
achieving it entirely.
There is one important thing to remem-
ber in an effort to be free from the bond-
age of circumstances which will save us
from much unnecessary suffering. This
has to do with the painful associations
112
THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF LIFE
which arise from circumstances which are
past and over.
A woman, for example, suffered for a
year from nervous exhaustion in her head,
which was brought on, among other things,
by over-excitement in private theatricals.
She apparently recovered her health, and,
because she was fond of acting, her first
activities were turned in that direction.
She accepted a part in a play ; but as
soon as she began to study all her old
head symptoms returned, and she was
thoroughly frightened, thinking that she
might never be able to use her head again.
Upon being convinced, however, that all
her discomfort came from her own imagi-
nation, through the painful associations
connected with the study of her part, she
returned to her work resolved to ignore
them, and the consequence was that the
symptoms rapidly disappeared.
Not uncommonly we hear that a person
8 113
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
of our acquaintance cannot go to some
particular place because of the painful
events which occurred there. If the suf-
ferer could only be persuaded that, when
such associations are once bravely faced,
it takes a very short time for the painful
effects to disappear entirely, much un-
necessary and prolonged discomfort would
be saved.
People have been kept ill for weeks,
months and years, through holding on
to the brain impression of some painful
event.
Whether the painful circumstances are
little or great, the law of association is the
same and, in any case, the brain impres-
sion can be dropped entirely, although
it may take time and patience to do it.
We must often talk to our brains as if we
were talking to another person to elimi-
nate the impressions from old associations.
Tell your brain in so many words, ivithout
114
THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF LIFE
emotion, that the place or the circumstance
is nothing, nothing whatever, — it is only
your idea about it, and the false association
can be changed to a true one.
So must we yield our selfish resistances
and be ready to accept every opportunity
for growth that circumstances offer ; and,
at the same time, when the good result is
gained, throw off the impression of the
pain of the process entirely and forever.
Thus may we both live and observe for
our own good and that of others ; and he
who is practising this principle in his daily
life can say from his heart : " Now shall
my head be lifted up above mine enemies
round about me."
115
VIII
Other People
HOWEVER disagreeable other peo-
ple may be, — however unjust they
may be, however true it may be
that the wrong is all on their side and not
at all on ours, — whatever we may suffer
at their hands, — we can only remedy the
difficulty by looking first solely to our-
selves and our own conduct ; and, not
until we are entirely free from resentment
or resistance of any kind, and not until
we are quiet in our own minds with re-
gard to those who may be oppressing or
annoying us, should we make any effort
to set them right.
This philosophy is sound and absolutely
practical, — it never fails ; any apparent
failure will be due to our own delinquency
^ ii6
OTHER PEOPLE
in applying it ; and, if the reader will think
of this truth carefully until he feels able
to accept it, he will see what true freedom
there is in it, — although it may be a long
time before he is fully able to carry it
out.
How can I remain in any slightest bond-
age to another when I feel sure that, how-
ever wrong he may be, the true cause of
my discomfort and oppression is in my-
self? I am in bondage to myself, and it
is to myself that I must look to gain my
freedom. If a friend is rude and unkind
to me, and I resent the rudeness and re-
sist the unkindness, it is the resentment
and resistance that cause me to suffer. I
am not suffering for my friend, I am suf-
fering for myself ; and I can only gain my
freedom by shunning the resentment and
resistance as sin against all that is good
and true in friendship. When I am free
from these things in myself, — when, as far
117
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
as I am concerned, I am perfectly and en-
tirely willing that my fi'iend should be
rude or unjust, then only am I free from
him. It is impossible that he should
oppress me, if I am willing that he should
be unjust or unkind ; and the freedom that
comes fi'om such strong and willing non-
resistance is like the fresh air upon a
mountain. Such freedom brings with it
also a new understanding of one's friend,
and a new ability to serve him.
Unless we live a life of seclusion, most
of us have more than one friend, or ac-
quaintance, or enemy, with whom we are
brought into constant or occasional con-
tact, and by whom we are made to suffer ;/
not to mention the frequent irritations
that may come from people we see only
once in our lives. Imagine the joy of
being free from all this irritability and
oppression | imagine the saving of nervous
energy which would accompany such free-
ii8
OTHER PEOPLE
dom ; imagine the possibility of use to
others which would be its most helpful
result !
If we once catch even the least glimpse
of this quiet freedom, we shall not mind
if it takes some time to accomplish so
desirable a result, and the process of
achieving it is deeply interesting.
The difficulty at first is to believe that,
so far as we are concerned, the cause of
the trouble is entirely within ourselves.
The temptation is to think : —
" How can I help resenting behavior
like that ! Such selfishness and lack of
consideration would be resented by any
one."
So any one might resent it, but that is
no reason why we should. We are not
to make other people's standards our own
unless we see that their standards are
higher than ours ; only then should we
change, — not to win the favor of the
119
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
other people, but because we have recog-
nized the superior value of their standards
and are glad to put away what is inferior
for what is better. Therefore we can
never excuse ourselves for resentment or
resistance because other people resent or
resist. There can be no possible excuse
for resistance to the behavior of others,
and it is safe to say that we must never
pit our wills against the wills of other
people. If we want to do right and the
other man wants us to do wrong, we must
pass by his will, pass under it or over it,
but never on any account resist it. There
has been more loss of energy, more real
harm done, through this futile engage-
ment of two personal wills than can ever
be computed, and the freedom consequent
upon refusing such contact is great in
proportion. Obedience to this law of not
pitting our wills against the wills of other
people leads to new freedom in all sorts of
1 20
OTHER PEOPLE
ways, — in connection with little, every-
day questions, as to whether a thing is one
color or another, as well as in the great
and serious problems of life. If, in an
argument, we feel confident that all we
want is the truth, — that we do not care
whether we or our opponents are in the
right, as long as we find the right itself, —
then we are free, so far as personal feeling
is concerned ; especially if, in addition, we
are perfectly willing that our opponents
should not be convinced, even though the
right should ultimately prove to be on
our side.
With regard to learning how always to
look first to ourselves, — first we must
become conscious of our own resentment
and resistance, then we must acknowledge
it heartily and fully, and then we must go
to work firmly and steadily to refuse to har-
bor it. We must relax out of the tensioiv
of our resistance with both soul and body ;
121
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
for, of course, the resistance contracts the
nerves of our bodies, and, if we relax from
the contractions in our bodies, it helps us
to gain freedom from resistance in our
hearts and minds. The same resistance
to the same person or the same ideas may
return, in different forms, many times
over ; but all we have to do is to persist in
2.0-'^^ ^ dropping it as often as it returns, even if
^ c> '^ ,^ '^\ it be thousands of times.
.^'^ Ji c No one need be afraid of losing all back-
V- ^ ' . ^ \ bone and becoming a " mush of conces-
sion " through the process of dropping
useless resistance, for the strength of will
required to free ourselves from the habit
of pitting one's own will against that of
another is much greater than the strength
we use when we indulge the habit. The
two kinds of strength can no more be
compared than the power of natural law
can be compared to the lawless efforts of
human waywardness. For the will that is
122
OTHER PEOPLE
pitted against the will of another degen-
erates into obstinacy, and weakens the
character ; whereas the will that is used
truly to refuse useless resistance increases
steadily in strength, and develops power
and beauty of character. Again, the man
who insists upon pitting his will against
that of another is constantly blinded as to
the true qualities of his opponent. He
sees neither his virtues nor his vices
clearly ; whereas he who declines the
merely personal contest becomes con-
stantly clarified in his views, and so helped
toward a loving charity for his opponent,
— whatever his faults or difficulties may
be, — and to an understanding and love of
the good in him, which does not identify
him with his faults.
When we resent and resist, and are per-
sonally wilful, there is a great big beam in
our eye, which we cannot see through, or
under, or over, — but, as we gain our free-
123
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
dom from all such resistance, the beam is
removed, and we are permitted to see
things as they really are, and with a truer
sense of proportion, our power of use
increases.
When a person is arguing with all the
force of personal wilfulness, it is both
pleasant and surprising to observe the
effect upon him if he begins to feel your
perfect willingness that he should believe
in his own way, and your willingness to
go with him, too, if his way should prove
to be right. His violence melts to quiet-
ness because you give him nothing to
resist. The same happy effect comes
from facing any one in anger, without
resistance, but with a quiet mind and a
loving heart. If the anger does not melt
— as it often does — it is modified and
weakened, and — as far as we are con-
cerned — it cannot touch or hurt us.
We must remember always that it
124
OTHER PEOPLE
is not the repression or concealment of
resentment and resistance, and forbearing
to express them, that can free us from
bondage to others ; it is overcoming any
trace of resentment or resistance within
our own hearts and minds. If the resist-
ance is in us, we are just as much in
bondage as if we expressed it in our words
and actions. If it is in us at all, it must
express itself in one way or another, —
either in ill-health, or in unhappy states
of mind, or in the tension of our bodies.
We must also remember that, when we
are on the way to freedom from such
habits of resistance, we may suffer from
them for a long time after we have ceased
to act from them. When we are turning
steadily away from them, the uncomfort-
able effects of past resistance may linger
for a long while before every vestige of
them disappears. It is like the peeling
after scarlet fever, — the dead skin stays
125
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
on until the new, tender skin is strong
underneath, and after we think we have
peeled entirely, we discover new places
with which we must be patient So, with
the old habits of resistance, we must,
although turning away from them firmly,
be steadily patient while waiting for the
pain from them to disappear. It must
take time if the work is to be done
thoroughly, — but the freedom to be
gained is well worth waiting for.
One of the most prevalent forms of
bondage is caring too much in the wrong
way what people think of us. If a man
criticises me I must first look to see whether
he is right. He may be partly right,
and not entirely, — but, whatever truth
there is in his criticism, I want to know
it in order that I may see the fault clearly
myself and remedy it. If his criticism is
ill-natured it is not necessarily any the
less true, and I must not let the truth be
126
OTHER PEOPLE
obscured by his ill-nature. All that I
have to do with the ill-nature is to be
sorry, on my friend's account, and help
him out of it if he is Avilling ; and there
is nothing that is so likely to make him
willing as my recognizing the justice of
what he says and acting upon it, while, at
the same time, I neither resent nor resist
his ill-nature. If the man is both ill-
natured and unjust, — if there is no touch
of what is true in his criticism, — then all
1 have to do is to cease resenting it. I
should be perfectly willing that he should
think anything he pleases, while T, so
far as I can see, go on and do what is
right.
The trouble is that we care more to
appear right than to be right. This undue
regard for appearances is very deep-seated,
for it comes from long habit and inherit-
ance ; but we must recognize it and
acknowledge it in ourselves, in order to
127
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
take the true path toward freedom. So
long as we are working for appearances
we are not working for reahties. When
we love to he right first, then we will
regard appearances only enough to protect
what is good and true from needless mis-
understanding and disrespect. Sometimes
we cannot even do that without sacrificing
the truth to appearances, and in such
cases we must be true to realities first,
and know that appearances must harmon-
ize with them in the end. If causes are
right, effects must be orderly, even though
at times they may not seem so to the
superficial observer. Fear of not being
approved of is the cause of great nervous
strain and waste of energy ; for fear is.
resistance, and we can counteract that
terrified resistance only by being perfectly
Cwilling that any one should think any-
Vthing he likes. When moving in obedi-
ence to law — natural and spiritual — a
128
OTHER PEOPLE
man's power cannot be overestimated;
but in order to learn genuine obedience
to law, we must be willing to accept our
limitations and wait for them to be gradu-
ally removed as we gain in true freedom.
Let us not forget that if we are over-
pleased — selfishly pleased — at the ap-
proval of others, we are just as much in
bondage to them as if we were angry at
their disapproval. Both approval and dis-
approval are helpful if we accept them for
the use they can be to us, but are equally
injurious if we take them to feed our
vanity or annoyance.
It is hard to believe, until our new
standard is firmly established, that only
from this true freedom do we get the
most vital sense of loving human inter-
course and companionship, for then we
find ourselves working hand in hand with
those who are united to us in the love of
principles, and we are ready to recognize
9 129
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
and to draw out the best in every one of
those about us.
If this law of freedom from others —
which so greatly increases our power of
use to them and their power of use to us
— had not been proved absolutely prac-
tical, it would not be a law at all. It is
only as we find it practical in every de-
tail, and as obedience to it is proved to
be the only sure road to established free-
dom that we are bound to accept it. To
learn to live in such obedience we must
be steady, persistent and patient, — teach-
ing ourselves the same truths many times,
until a new habit of freedom is established
within us by the experience of our daily
lives. We must learn and grow in power
from every failure ; and we must not
dwell with pride and complacency on
good results, but always move steadily
and quietly forward.
130
IX
Human Sympathy
A NURSE who had been only a few
weeks in the hospital training-
school, once saw — from her seat
at the dinner-table — a man brought into
the house who was suffering intensely
from a very severe accident. The young
woman started up to be of what service
she could, and when she returned to the
table, had lost her appetite entirely, be-
cause of her sympathy for the suffering
man. She had hardly begun her dinner,
and would have gone without it if it
had not been for a sharp reprimand from
the superintendent.
"If you really sympathize with that
man," she said, " you will eat your dinner
to get strength to take care of him. Here
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THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
is a man who will need constant, steady,
healthy attention for some days to come,
— and special care all this afternoon and
night, and it will be your duty to look
out for him. Your ' sympathy ' is already
pulling you down and taking away your
strength, and you are doing what you can
to lose more strength by refusing to eat
your dinner. Such sympathy as that is
poor stuff; I call it weak sentimentaUty."
The reprimand was purposely sharp,
and, by arousing the anger and indigna-
tion of the nurse, it served as a counter-
irritant which restored her appetite. After
her anger had subsided, she thanked the
superintendent with all her heart, and
from that day she began to learn the dif-
ference between true and false sympathy.
It took her some time, however, to get
thoroughly estabUshed in the habit of
healthy sympathy. The tendency to
unwholesome sympathy was part of her
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HUMAN SYMPATHY
natural inheritance, along with many
other evil tendencies which frequently have
to be overcome before a person with a
very sensitive nervous system can find his
own true strength. But as she watched
the useless suffering which resulted in all
cases in which people allowed themselves
to be weakened by the pain of others, she
learned to understand more and more
intelligently the practice of wholesome
sympathy, and worked until it had be-
come her second nature. Especially did
she do this after having proved many
times, by practical experience, the strength
which comes through the power of whole-
some sympathy to those in pain.
Unwholesome sympathy incapacitates
one for serving others, whether the need
be physical, mental, or moral. Whole-
some sympathy not only gives us power
to serve, but clears our understanding;
and, because of our growing ability to
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THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
appreciate rightly the point of view of
other people, our service can be more and
more intelligent.
In contrast to this unwholesome sym-
pathy, which is the cause of more trouble
in the world than people generally sup-
pose, is the unwholesome lack of sym-
pathy, or hardening process, which is
deliberately cultivated by many people,
and which another story will serve to
illustrate.
A poor negro was once brought to the
hospital very ill ; he had suffered so keenly
in the process of getting there that the re-
sulting weakness, together with the intense
fright at the idea of being in a hospital,
which is so common to many of his class,
added to the effects of his disease itself,
were too much for him, and he died before '
he had been in bed fifteen minutes. The
nurse in charge looked at him and said, in
a cold, steady tone : —
134
HUMAN SYMPATHY
" It was hardly worth while to make up
the bed."
She had hardened herself because she
could not endure the suffering of un-
wholesome sympathy, and yet "must do
her work." No one had taught her the
freedom and power of true sympathy.
Her finer senses were dulled and atro-
phied, — she did not know the difference
between one human soul and another.
She only knew that this was a case of
typhoid fever, that a case of pneumonia,
and another a case of delirium tremens.
They were all one to her, so far as the
human beings went. She knew the diag-
nosis and the care of the physical disease,
— and that was all. She did the material
work very well, but she must have brought
torture to the sensitive mind in many a
poor, sick body.
Another form of false sympathy is
what may be called professional sym-
135
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
pathy. Some people never find that out,
but admire and get comfort from the pro-
fessional sympathy of a doctor or a nurse,
or any other person whose profession it is
to care for those who are suffering. It
takes a keen perception or a quick emer-
gency to bring out the false ring of pro-
fessional sympathy. But the hardening
process that goes on in the professional
sympathizer is even greater than in the case
of those who do not put on a sympathetic
veneer. It seems as if there must be
great tension in the more delicate parts
of the nervous system in people who have
hardened themselves, with or without the
veneer, — akin to what there would be in
the muscles if a man went about his work
with both fists tightly clenched all day,
and slept with them clenched all night.
If that tension of hard indifference could
be reached and relaxed, the result would
probably be a nervous collapse, before true,
136
HUMAN SYMPATHY
wholesome habits could be established ;
but unfortunately it often becomes so rigid
that a healthy relaxation is out of the
question. Professional sympathy is of
the same quality as the selfish sympathy
which we see constantly about us in men
or women who sympathize because the
emotion attracts admiration and wins the
favor of others.
When people sympathize in their selfish-
ness instead of sympathizing in their efforts
to get free, the force of selfishness is in-
creased, and the world is kept down to a
lower standard by just so much.
A thief, for instance, fails in a well-
planned attempt to get a large sum of
money, and confides his attempt and fail-
ure to a brother thief, who expresses
admiration for the sneaking keenness of
the plan, and hearty sympathy in the
regret for his failure. The first thief im-
mediately pronounces the second thief " a
137
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
good fellow." But, at the same time, if
either of these apparently friendly thieves
could get more money by cheating the
other the next day he would not hesitate
to do so.
To be truly sympathetic, we should be
able so to identify ourselves with the in-
terests of others that we can have a thor-
ough appreciation of their point of view,
and can understand their lives clearly, as
they appear to themselves ; but this we
can never do if we are immersed in the
fog, — either of their personal selfishness
or our own. By understanding others
clearly, we can talk in ways that are, and
seem to them, rational, and gradually lead
them to a higher standard.
If a woman is in the depths of despair
because a dress does not fit, I should not
help her by telling her the truth about her
character, and lecturing her upon her foUy
in wasting grief upon trifles, when there
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HUMAN SYMPATHY
are so many serious troubles in the world.
From her point of view, the fact that her
dress does not fit is a grief But if I keep
quiet, and let her see that I understand her
disappointment, and at the same time
hold my own standard, she will be led
much more easily and more truly to see
for herself the smallness of her attitude.
First, perhaps, she will be proud that she
has learned not to worry about such a
little thing as a new dress ; and, if so, I
must remember her point of view, and be
willing that she should be proud. Then,
perhaps, she will come to wonder how she
ever could have wasted anxiety on a dress
or a hat, and later she may perhaps forget
that she ever did.
It is like leading a child. We give lov-
ing sympathy to a child when it breaks its
doll, although we know there is nothing
real to grieve about. There is something
for the child to grieve about, something
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THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
very real to her ; but we can only sympa-
thize helpfully with her point of view by
keeping ourselves clearly in the Ught of
our own more mature point of view.
From the top of a mountain you can
see into the valley round about, — your
horizon is very broad, and you can dis-
tinguish the details that it encompasses ;
but, from the valley, you cannot see the
top of the mountain, and your horizon is
limited.
This illustrates truly the breadth and
power of wholesome human sympathy.
With a real love for human nature, if a
man has a clear, high standard of his own,
— a standard which he does not attribute
to his own intelligence — his understand-
ing of the lower standards of other men
will also be very clear, and he will take all
sorts and conditions of men into the region
within the horizon of his mind. Not only
that, but he will recognize the fact when
140
HUMAN SYMPATHY
the standard of another man is higher than
his own, and will be ready to ascend at
once when he becomes aware of a higher
point of view. On the other hand, when
selfishness is sympathizing with selfishness,
there is no ascent possible, but only the
one little low place limited by the per-
sonal, selfish interests of those concerned.
Nobody else's trouble seems worth con-
sidering to those who are immersed in their
own, or in their selfish sympathy with a
friend whom they have chosen to champion.
This is especially felt among conventional
people, when something happens which
disturbs their external habits and standards
of life. Sympathy is at once thrown out
on the side of conventionality, without
any rational inquiry as to the real rights
of the case. Selfish respectability is most
unwholesome in its unhealthy sympathy
with selfish respectability.
The wholesome sympathy of living
141
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
human hearts sympathizes first with what
is wholesome, — especially in those who
suffer, — whether it be wholesomeness of
soul or body ; and true sympathy often
knows and recognizes that wholesomeness
better than the sufferer himself. Only in
a secondary way, and as a means to a
higher end, does it sympathize with the
painful circumstances or conditions. By
keeping our sympathies steadily fixed on
the health of a brother or friend, when he
is immersed in and overcome by his own
pain, we may show him the way out of his
pain more truly and more quickly. By
keeping our sympathies fixed on the
health of a friend's soul, we may lead
him out of selfishness which otherwise
might gradually destroy him. In both
cases our loving care should be truly felt,
— and felt as real understanding of the
pain or grief suffered in the steps by the
way, with an intelligent sense of their true
142
HUMAN SYMPATHY
relation to the best interests of the sufferer
himself. Such wholesome sympathy is
alert in all its perceptions to appreciate
different points of view, and takes care
to speak only in language which is in-
telligible, and therefore useful. It is full
of loving patience, and never forces or
persuades, but waits and watches to give
help at the right time and in the right
place. It is more often helpful with
silence than with words. It stimulates
one to imagine what friendship might be
if it were alive and wholesome to the
very core. For, in such friendship as this,
a true friend to one man has the capacity
of being a true friend to all men, and one
who has a thoroughly wholesome sym-
pathy for one human being will have it for
all. His general attitude must always be
the same — modified only by the relative
distance which comes from variety in
temperaments.
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THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
In order to sympathize with the best
possibilities in others, our own standards
must be high and clear, and we must be
steadily true to them. Such sympathy is
freedom itself, — it is warm and glow-
ing, — while the sympathy which adds its
weight to the pain or selfishness of others
can reaUy be only bondage, however good
it may appear.
144
X
Personal Independence
IN proportion as every organ of the
human body is free to perform its
own functions, unimpeded by any*
other, the body is perfectly healthy and
vigorous ; and, in proportion as every
organ of the body is receiving its proper
support from every other, the body as a
whole is vigorous, and in the full use of
its powers.
These are two self-evident axioms, and,
if we think of them quietly for a little
while, they will lead us to a clear realiza-
tion of true personal independence.
The lungs cannot do the work of the
heart, but must do their own work, inde-
pendently and freely ; and yet, if the
lungs should suddenly say to themselves :
»° 145
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
" This is all nonsense, — our depending
upon the heart in this way ; we must be
independent I It is weak to depend upon
the other organs of the body I " And if
they should repel the blood which the
heart pumped into them, with the idea
that they could manage the body by
themselves, and were not going to be
weakly dependent upon the heart, the
stomach, or any other organ, — if the
lungs should insist upon taking this inde-
pendent stand, they would very soon stop
breathing, the heart would stop beating,
the stomach would stop digesting, and the
body would die. Or, suppose that the
heart should refuse to supply the lungs
with the blood necessary to provide oxy-
gen ; the same fatal result would of course
follow. Or, even let us imagine all the
organs of the body agreeing that it is
weak to be dependent, and asserting their
independence of each other. At the very
146
PERSONAL INDEPENDENCE
instant that such an agreement was carried
into effect, the body would perish.
Then, on the other hand, — to reverse
the illustration, — if the lungs should feel
that they could help the heart's work by
attending to the circulation of the blood,
if the heart should insist that it could in-
hale and exhale better than the lungs, and
should neglect its own work in order to
advise and assist the lungs in the breath-
ing, the machinery of the body would be
in sad confusion for a time, and would
very soon cease altogether.
This imaginary want of real independ-
ence in the working of the different organs
of the body can be illustrated by the actual
action of the muscles. How often we see
a man working with his mouth while
writing, when he should be only using his
hands ; or, working uselessly with his left
hand, when what he has to do only needs
the right ! How often we see people try-
1^7
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
ing to listen with their arms and shoulders I
Such illustrations might be multiphed in-
definitely, and, in all cases, the false sym-
pathy of contraction in the parts of the
body which are not needed for the work in
hand comes from a wrong dependence, —
from the fact that the parts of the body
that are not needed, are officiously de-
pendent upon those that are properly
active, instead of minding their own
affairs and saving energy for their own
work.
The wholesome working of the human
organism is so perfect in its analogy to the
healthy relations of members of a com-
munity, that no reader should pass it by
without very careful thought.
John says : —
" I am not going to be dependent upon
any man. 1 am going to live my own life,
in my own way, as I expect other men to
live theirs. If they will leave me alone, I
148
PERSONAL INDEPENDENCE
will leave them alone," and John flatters
himself that he is asserting his own strength
of personality, that he is emphasizing his
individuality. The truth is that John is
warping himself every day by his weak de-
pendence upon his own prejudices. He is
unwilling to look fairly at another man's
opinion for fear of being dependent upon
it. He is not only warping himself by his
" independence," which is puffed up with
the false appearance of strength, but he
is robbing his fellow-men ; for he cannot
refuse to receive from others without put-
ting it out of his own power to give to
others. Real giving and receiving must
be reciprocal in spirit, and absolutely
dependent upon each other.
It is a curious and a sad study to
watch the growing slavery of such "in-
dependent" people.
James, on the other hand, thinks he can-
not do anything without asking another
149
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
man's advice or getting another man's
help ; sometimes it is always the same
man, sometimes it is one of twenty dif-
ferent men. And so, James is steadily
losing the power of looking life in the
face, and of judging for himself whether
or not to take the advice of others from a
rational principle, and of his own free will,
and he is gradually becoming a parasite,
— an animal which finally loses all its
organs from lack of use, so that only its
stomach remains, — and has, of course, no
intelligence at all. The examples of such
men as James are much more numerous
than might be supposed. We seldom see
them in such flabby dependence upon the
will of an individual as would make them
conspicuous ; but they are about us every
day, and in large numbers, in their weak
dependence upon public opinion, — their
bondage to the desire that other men
should think well of them. The human
150
PERSONAL INDEPENDENCE
parasites that are daily feeding on social
recognition are unconsciously in the pro-
cess of losing their individuality and their
intelligence ; and it would be a sad sur-
prise to them if they could see them-
selves clearly as they really are.
Public opinion is a necessary and true
protection to the world as it is, because
if it were not for public opinion, many
men and women would dare to be more
wicked than they are. But that is no
reason why intelligent men should order
their lives on certain lines just because
their neighbors do, — just because it is
the custom. If the custom is a good
custom, it can be followed intelligently,
and because we recognize it as good, but
it should not be followed only because our
neighbors follow it. Then, if our neigh-
bors follow the custom for the same intel-
ligent reason, it will bring us and them
into free and happy sympathy.
151
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THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
Neither should a man hesitate to do
right, positively and fearlessly, in the face
of the public assertion that he is doing
wrong. He should, of course, look him-
self over many times to be sure that he is
doing right, according to his own best
light, and he should be willing to change
his course of action just as fearlessly if he
finds he has made a mistake ; but, having
once decided, he will respect public opinion
much more truly by acting quieUy against
it with an open mind, than he would if he
refused to do right, because he was afraid
of what others would think of him. To
defy carelessly the opinion of others is
false independence, and has in it the ele-
ments of fear, however fearless it may
seem ; but to respectfully ignore it for the
sake of what is true, and good, and useful,
is sure to enlarge the pubUc heart and to
help it eventually to a clearer charity.
Individual dependence and individual in-
152
PERSONAL INDEPENDENCE
dependence are absolutely necessary to a
well-adjusted balance. It is just as nec-
essary to the individual men of a com-
munity as to the individual organs of the
body.
It is not uncommon for a person to
say: —
" I must give up So-and-so ; I must
not see so much of him, — I am getting
so dependent upon him."
If the apparent dependence on a friend
is due to the fact that he has valuable
principles to teach which may take time
to learn, but which lead in the end to
greater freedom, then to give up such com-
panionship out of regard for the criticism
of others would, of course, be weakness and
folly itself. It is often our lot to incur
the severest blame for the very weaknesses
which we have most entirely overcome.
Many people will say : —
" I should rather be independently
153
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
wrong than dependently right," and others
will admire them for the assertion. But
the truth is, that whenever one is wrong,
one is necessarily dependent, either upon
man or dfevil ; but it is impossible to be
dependently right, excepting for the com-
paratively short time that we may need
for a definite, useful purpose. If a man is
right in his mental and moral attitude
merely because his friend is right, and not
because he wants the right himself, it will
only be a matter of time before his prop
is taken away, and he will fall back into his
own moral weakness. Of course, a man
can begin to be right because his friend
is right ; — but it is because there is some-
thing in him which responds to the good
in his friend. Strong men are true to
their friendships and convictions, in spite of
appearances and the clamor of their critics.
True independence is never afraid of
appearing dependent, and true depend-
154
PERSONAL INDEPENDENCE
ence leads always to the most perfect
independence.
We cannot really enjoy our own free-
dom without the growing desire and
power to help other people to theirs.
Our own love of independence will bring
with it an equal love for the independence
of our neighbor ; and our own love of true
dependence — that is, of receiving wise
help from any one through whom it may
be sent — will give us an equal love for
giving help wherever it will be welcome.
Our respect for our own independence
will make it impossible that we should
insist upon trying to give help to others
where it is not wanted i and our own
respect for true dependence will give us a
loving charity, a true respect for those
who are necessarily and temporarily de-
pendent, and teach us to help them to
their true balance.
We should learn to keep a margin of
155
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
reserve for ourselves, and to give the same
margin to others. Not to come too neary
but to be far enough away from every one
to give us a true perspective. There is a
sort of famiHarity that arises sometimes
between friends, or even mere acquaint-
ances, which closes the door to true friend-
ship or to real acquaintance. It does not
bring people near to one another, but
keeps them apart. It is as if men thought
that they could be better friends by
bumping their heads together.
Our freedom comes in realizing that all
the energy of life should come primarily
from a love of principles and not of per-
sons, excepting as persons relate to prin-
ciples. If one man finds another living on
principles that are higher than his own, it
means strength and freedom for him to
cling to his friend until he has learned to
understand and live on those principles
himself. Then if he finds his own power
156
PERSONAL INDEPENDENCE
for usefulness and his own enjoyment of
life increased by his friendship, it would
indeed be weak of him to refuse such
companionship from fear of being depend-
ent. The surest and strongest basis of
freedom in friendship is a common devo-
tion to the same fundamental principles of
life ; and this insures reciprocal usefulness
as well as personal independence. We
must remember that the very worst and
weakest dependence is not a dependence
upon persons, but upon a sin, — whether
the sin be fear of public opinion or some
other more or less serious form of bondage.
The only true independence is in obedi-
ence to law, and if, to gain the habit of
such obedience, we need a helping hand,
it is truly independent for us to take it.
We all came into the world alone, and
we must go out of the world alone, and
yet we are exquisitely and beautifully
dependent upon one another.
157
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
A great German philosopher has said
that there should be as much space be-
tween the atoms of the body, in relation
to its size, as there is between the stars in
relation to the size of the universe, — and
yet every star is dependent upon every
other star, — as every atom in the body is
dependent upon every other atom for its
true life and action. This principle of
balance in the macrocosm and the micro-
cosm is equally applicable to any commu-
nity of people, whether large or small.
The quiet study and appreciation of it
will enable us to realize the strength of
free dependence and dependent freedom
in the relation of persons to one another.
The more truly we can help one another
in freedom toward the dependence upon
law, which is the axis of the universe, the
more wholesome and perfect will be all
our human relations.
158
XI
Self-control
TO most people self-control means
the control of appearances and
not the control of realities. This
is a radical mistake, and must be cor-
rected, if we are to get a clear idea of
self-control, and if we are to make a fair
start in acquiring it as a permanent habit.
' I am what I am by virtue of my own
motives of thought and action, by virtue
of what my mind is, what my will is, and
what 1 am in the resultant combination
of my mind and will ; 1 am not necessa-
rily what I appear from the outside.
If a man is ugly to me, and I want to
knock him down, and refrain from doing
so simply because it would not appear
well, and is not the habit of the people
159
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
about me, my desire to knock him down
is still a part of myself, and I have not
controlled myself until I am absolutely
free from that interior desire. So long as
I am in hatred to another, I am in bond-
age to my hatred ; and if, for the sake of
appearances, I do not act or speak from
it, I am none the less at its mercy/ and it
will find an outlet wherever it can do so
without debasing me in the eyes of other
men more than I am willing to be de-
based. The control of appearances is
merely outward repression, and a very
common instance of this may be observed
in the effort to control a laugh. If we
repress it, it is apt to assert itself in spite
of our best efforts ; whereas, if we relax
our muscles, and let the sensation go
through us, we can control our desire to
laugh, and so get free from it. When we
repress a laugh, we are really holding on
to it, in our minds, but, when we control
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SELF-CONTROL
it by relaxing the tension that comes
from the desire to laugh, it is as if the
sensation passed over and away from us.
»^ It is a well-known fact among surgeons
that, if a man who is badly frightened,
takes ether, no matter how well he con-
trols his outward behavior, no matter
how quiet he appears while the ether is
being administered, as soon as he loses
control of his voluntary muscles, the fear
that has been repressed rushes out in the
form of excitement. This is a practical
illustration of the fact that control of ap-
pearances is merely control of the mus-
cles, and that, even so far as our nervous
system goes, it is only repression, and
self-repression is not self-control.
If I repress the expression of irritabil-
ity, anger, hatred, or any other form of
evil, it is there, in my brain, just the
same ; and, in one form or another, I am
in bondage to it. Sometimes it expresses
" i6i
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
itself in little meannesses ; sometimes it
affects my body and makes me ill ; often
it keeps me from being entirely well. Of
one thing we may be sure, — it makes me
the instrument of evil, in one way or
another. Repressed evil is not going to
lie dormant in us forever ; it will rise in
active ferment, sooner or later. Its ulti-
mate action is just as certain as that a
serious impurity of the blood is certain to
lead to physical disease, if it is not coun-
teracted.
Knowing this to be true, we can no
longer say of certain people " So-and-so
has remarkable self-control 1 " We can
only say, " So-and-so represses his feelings
remarkably well : what a good actor he
is ! " The men who have real self-control
do exist, and they are the leaven that
saves the race. It is good to know
that this habitual repression comes, in
many cases, from want of knowledge
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SELF-CONTROL
of the fact that self-repression is not
self-control.
But the reader may say, "what am I
to do, if I feel angry, and want to hit a
man in the face ; I am not supposed to
hit him, am I, rather than to repress my
feeUngs ? "
No, not at all, but you are supposed to
use your will to get in behind the desire
to hit him, and, by relaxing in mind and
body, and stopping all resistance to his
action, to remove that desire in yourself
entirely. If once you persistently refuse
to resist by dropping the anger of your
mind and the tension of your body, you
have gained an opportunity of helping
your brother, if he is willing to be helped ;
you have cleared the atmosphere of your
own mind entirely, so that you can un-
derstand his point of view, and give him
the benefit of reasonable consideration ;
or, at the very least, you have yourself
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THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
ceased to be ruled by his evils, for you
can no longer be roused to personal retal-
iation. It is interesting and enlightening
to recognize the fact that we are in bond-
age to any man to the extent that we
permit ourselves to be roused to anger or
resentment by his words or actions.
When a man's brain is befogged by the
fumes of anger and irritability it can work
neither clearly nor quietly, and, when that
is the case, it is impossible for him to serve
himself or his neighbor to his full ability.
If another person has the power to rouse
my anger or my irritability, and I allow the
anger or the irritability to control me, I
am, of course, subservient to my own bad
state and at the mercy of the person who
has the power to excite those evil states
just in so far as such excitement confuses
my brain.
Every one has in him certain inherited
and personal tendencies which are obsta-
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SELF-CONTROL
cles to his freedom of mind and body, and
his freedom is Hmited just in so far as he
allows those tendencies to control him.
If he controls them by external repression,
they are then working havoc within him,
no matter how thoroughly he may appear
to be master of himself If he acknowl-
edges his mistaken tendencies fully and
willingly and then refuses to act, speak, or
think from them, he is taking a straight
path toward freedom of life and action.
One great difficulty in the way of self-
control is that we do not want to get free
from our anger. In such cases we can only
want to want to, and if we use the strength
of will that is given us to drop our resist-
ance in spite of our desire to be angry we
shall be working toward our freedom and
our real self-control.
There is always a capacity for unselfish
will, the will of the better self, behind the
personal selfish will, ready and waiting for
165
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
US to use it, and it grows with use until
finally it overrules the personal selfish will
with a higher quality of power. It is only
false strength that supports the personal
wiU, — a false appearance of strength which
might be called wilfulness and which leads
ultimately to the destruction of its owner.
Any true observer of human nature will
recognize the weakness of mere selfish wil-
fulness in another, and will keep entirely
free from its trammels by refusing to meet
it in a spirit of resentment or retaliation.
Real self-control, as compared to repres-
sion, is delightful in its physical results,
when we have any difficult experience to
anticipate or to go through. Take, for
instance, a surgical operation. If I con-
trol myself by yielding, by relaxing the
nervous tension which is the result of my
fear, true self-control then becomes pos-
sible, and brings a helpful freedom from
reaction after the trouble is over. Or the
1 66
SELF-CONTROL
same principle can be applied if I have to
go through a hard trial with a friend and
must control myself for his sake, — drop-
ping resistance in my mind and in my
body, dropping resistance to his suffering,
yielding my will to the necessities of the
situation, — this attitude will leave me
much more clear to help him, will show
him how to help himself, and will relieve
him from the reaction that inevitably
follows severe nervous strain. The power
of use to others is increased immeasurably
when we control ourselves interiorly, and
do not merely outwardly repress.
It often happens that a drunkard who
is supposed to be " cured," returns to his
habit, simply because he has wanted his
drink all the time, and has only been
taught to repress his appetite ; if he had
been steadily and carefully taught real
self-control, he would have learnt to con-
trol and drop his interior desire^ and thus
167
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
keep permanently free. How often we see
intemperance which had shown itself in
.drink simply turned into another channel,
another form of selfish indulgence, and
yet the victim will complacently boast of
his self-control. An extreme illustration
of this truth is shown in the case of a well-
known lecturer on temperance. He had
given up drink, but he ate like a glutton,
and his thirst for applause was so extreme
as to make him appear almost ridiculous
when he did not receive it.
The opportunities for self-control are, of
course, innumerable; indeed they consti-
tute pretty much the whole of life. We
are living in freedom and use, real living
use, in proportion as we are in actual con-
trol of our selfish selves, and led by our
love of useful service. In proportion as
we have through true self-control brought
ourselves into daily and hourly obedience
to law, are we in the freedom that
i68
SELF-CONTROL
properly belongs to our lives and their
true uses.
When once we have won our freedom
from resistance, we must use that freedom
in action, and put it directly to use.
Sometimes it will result in a small action,
sometimes in a great one ; but, whatever
it is, it must be done. If we drop the
resistance, and do not use the freedom
gained thereby for active service, we shall
simply react into further bondage, from
which it will be still more difficult to
escape. Having dropped my antagonism
to my most bitter enemy, I must do
something to serve him, if I can. If I
find that it is impossible to serve him,
I can at least be of service to someone
else ; and this action, if carried out in the
true spirit of unselfish service, will go far
toward the permanent estabUshment of
my freedom.
If a circumstance which is atrociously
169
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
wrong in itself makes us indignant, the
first thing to do is to drop the resistance
of our indignation, and then to do what-
ever may be within our power to prevent
the continuance of such wrong. Many
people weaken their powers of service
by their own indignation, when, if they
would cease their excited resistance, they
would see clearly how to remedy the
wrong that arouses their antagonism.
Action, when accompanied by personal
resistance, however effective it may seem,
does not begin to have the power that
can come from action, without such
resistance. As, for instance, when we
have to train a child with a perverse will,
if we quietly assert what is right to the
child, and insist upon obedience without
the slightest antagonistic feeling to the
child's naughtiness, we accomplish much
more toward strengthening the character
of the child than if we try to enforce our
170
SELF-CONTROL
idea by the use of our personal will, which
is filled with resistance toward the child's
obstinacy. In the latter case, it is just
pitting our will against the will of the
child, which is always destructive, however
it may appear that we have succeeded
in enforcing the child's obedience. The
same thing holds true in relation to an
older person, with the exception that,
with him or her, we cannot even attempt
to require obedience. In that case we
must, — when it is necessary that we
should speak at all, — assert the right
without antagonism to what we believe to
be their wrong, and without the slightest
personal resistance to it. If we follow
this course, in most cases our friend will
come to the right point of view, — some-
times the result seems almost miraculous,
— or, as is often the case, we, because we
are wholesomely open-minded, will recog-
nize any mistake in our own point of
171
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
view, and will gladly modify it to agree
with that of our friend.
The trouble is that very few of us feel
like working to remedy a wrong merely
for the sake of the right, and therefore we
must have an impetus of personal feeling
to carry us on toward the work of refor-
mation. If we could onoe be strongly
started in obedience to the law from love
of the law itself,* we should find in that
impersonal love a clear light and power
for effective action both in the larger and
in the smaller questions of life.
\ There is a popular cry against intro-
spection and an insistence that it is neces-
sarily morbid, which works in direct
opposition to true self-control. Intro-
spection for its own sake is self-centred
and morbid, but we might as well assert
that it is right to have dirty hands so long
as we wear gloves, and that it is morbid
to want to be sure that our hands are
172
SELF-CONTROL
clean under our gloves, as to assert that
introspection for the sake of our true
spiritual freedom is morbid. If I cannot
look at my selfish motives, how am I
going to get free from them ? It is my
selfish motives that prevent true self-
control. It is my selfish motives that
prompt me to the false control of repres-
sion, which is counterfeit and for the sake
of appearances alone. We must see these
motives, recognize and turn away from
them, in order to control ourselves interi-
orly into line with law. We cannot possi-
bly see them unless we look for them. If
we look into ourselves for the sake of free-
dom, for the sake of our greater power
for use, for the sake of our true self-
control, what can be more wholesome or
what can lead us to a more healthy habit
of looking out from ourselves into the
lives and interests of others ? The farther
we get established in motives that are
173
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
truly unselfish, the sooner we shall get out
of our own light, and the wider our
horizon will be ; and the wider our hori-
zon, the greater our power for use.
There must, of course, be a certain
period of self-consciousness in the process
of finding our true self-control, but it is
for the sake of an end which brings us
more and more fully into a state of happy,
quiet spontaneity. If we are working
carefully for true self-control we shall
welcome an unexpected searchlight from
another mind. If the searchlight brings
into prominence a bit of irritation that we
did not know was there, so much the bet-
ter. How could we free ourselves from
it without knowing that it was there ?
But as soon as we discover it we can
control and cast it off. A healthy intro-
spection is merely the use of a searchlight
which every one who loves the truth has
the privilege of using for the sake of his
174
SELF-CONTROL
own growth and usefulness, and circum-
stances often turn it full upon us, greatly
to our advantage, if we do not wince but
act upon the knowledge that it brings.
It is possible to acquire an introspective
habit which is wholesome and true, and
brings us every day a better sense of pro-
portion and a clearer outlook.
With regard to the true control of the
pleasurable emotions, the same principle
applies.
People often grow intensely excited in
listening to music, — letting their emo-
tions run rampant and suffering in conse-
quence a painful reaction of fatigue. If
they would learn to yield so that the
music could pass over their nerves as it
passes over the strings of a musical instru-
ment, and then, with the new life and
vigor derived from the enjoyment, would
turn to some useful work, they would find
a great expansion in the enjoyment of the
175
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
music as well as a new pleasure in their
work.
Real self-control is the subjugation of
selfishness in whatever form it may exist,
and its entire subordination to spiritual
and natural law. Real self-control is not
self-centred. In so far as we become
established in this true self-control, we are
upheld by law and guided by the power
behind it to the perfect freedom and joy
of a useful life.
176
XII
The Religion of It
THE religion of it is the whole of
it. "All religion has relation to
life and the life of religion is to do
good." If religion does not teach us to
do good in the very best way, in the way
that is most truly useful to ourselves and
to other people, religion is absolutely use-
less and had better be ignored altogether.
We must beware, however, of identifying
the idea of religion with the men and the
women who pervert it. If an electrician
came to us to light our house, and the
lights would not burn, we would not im-
mediately condemn all electric lighting
as bosh and nonsense, or as sentimental
theory ; we should kfiow, of course, that
this especial electrician did not understand
his business, and would at once look about
12 177
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
to find a man who did, and get him to
put our lights in order. If no electrician
really seemed to know his business, and
we wanted our lights very much, the
next thing to do would be to look into
the laws of electricity ourselves, and find
out exactly where the trouble was, and so
keep at work until we had made our own
lights burn, and always felt able, if at any
time they failed to burn, to discover and
remedy the difficulty ourselves. There iis
not a man or woman who does not feel,
at some time, the need of an inner light
to make the path clear in the circum-
stances of life, and especially in dealing with
others. Many men and women feel that
need all the time, and happy are those who
are not satisfied until the need is supplied
and they are working steadily in daily
practical life, guided by a light that they
know is higher than theory. When the
light is once found, and we know the
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THE RELIGION OF IT
direction in which we wish to travel,
the path is not by any means always clear
and smooth, it is often full of hard, rough
places, and there are sometimes miles to
go over where our light seems dim; but
if we have proved our direction to be right,
and keep steadily and strongly moving for-
ward, we are always sure to come into
open resting places where we can be
quiet, gather strength, and see the light
more clearly for the next stage of the
journey.
" It is wonderful," some one remarked,
"how this theory of non-resistance has
helped me ; life is quite another thing since
I have practised it steadily." The reply
was " it is not wonderful when we realize
that the Lord meant what He said when
He told us not to resist evil." At this
suggestion the speaker looked up with
surprise and said : " Why, is that in the
New Testament? Where, in what part
179
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
of it ? " She never had thought of the
sermon on the Mount as a working plan,
or, indeed, of the New Testament as a
handbook of life, — practical and power-
ful in every detail. If we once begin to
use it daily and hourly as a working plan
of life, it is marvellous how the power and
the efficiency of it will grow on us, and
we shall no more be able to get along
without it than an electrician can get
along without a knowledge of the laws
of electricity.
Some people have taken the New Tes-
tament so literally that they have befogged
themselves entirely with regard to its real
meaning, and have put it aside as imprac-
ticable ; others have surrounded it with
an emotional idea, as something to theorize
and rhapsodize about, and have befogged
themselves in that way with regard to its
real power. Most people are not clear
about it because of the tradition that has
1 80
THE RELIGION OF IT
come to us through generations who have
read it and heard it read in church, and
never have thought of hving it outside.
We can have a great deal of church with-
out any religion, but we cannot have
religion without true worship, whether
the worship is only in our individual souls,
or whether it is also the function of a
church to which we belong, with a build-
ing dedicated to the worship of the Lord
to which we go for prayer and for instruc-
tion. If we could clear ourselves from the
deadening effects of tradition, from sen-
timentality, from nice theory, and from
every touch of emotional and spurious
peace, and take up the New Testament as
if we were reading it for the first time,
and then if we could use it faithfully as
a working plan for a time, simply as an
experiment, — it would soon cease to be an
experiment, and we should not need to
be told by any one that it is a divine reve-
i8i
/
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
lation ; we would be confident of that in
our own souls. Indeed that is the only
way any one can ever be sure of revela-
tion ; it must come to each of us alone, as
if it had never come to any one before ;
and yet the beauty and power of it is such
that it has come to myriads before us and
will come to myriads after us in just the
same way.
But there is no real revelation for any
one until he has lived what he sees to be
.tnie. I may talk like an angel and assert
with a shining face my confident faith in
God and in all His laws, but my words will
mean nothing whatever unless I have so
lived my faith that it has been absorbed
into my character and so that the truths
of my working plan have become my
second nature.
Many people have discovered that the
Lord meant what He said when He said :
** Resist not evil," and have proved how
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THE RELIGION OF IT
truly practical is the command, in their
efforts to be willing to be ill, to be wiUing
that circumstances should seem to go
against them, to be willing that other
people should be unjust, angry, or disagree-
able. They have seen that in yielding to
circumstances or people entirely, — that
is, in dropping their own resistances, —
they have gained clear, quiet minds, which
enables them to see, to understand, and to /
practise a higher common sense in the
affairs of their lives, which leads to their
ultimate happiness and freedom. It is
now clear to many people that much
of the nervous illness of to-day is caused
by a prolonged state of resistance to cir- /
cumstances or to people which has kept
the brain in a strained and irritated state
so that it can no longer do its work ; and
that the patient has to lay by for a longer
or a shorter period, according to his ability
to drop the resistances, and so allay the
183
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
irritation and let his brain and nervous
system rest and heal.
Then with regard to dealing with
others, some of us have found out the prac-
tical common sense of taking even injus-
tice quietly and without resistance, of
looking to our own faults first, and getting
quite free from all resentment and resist-
ance to the behavior of others, before we
can expect to understand their point of
view, or to help them to more reasonable,
kindly action if they are in error. Very
few of us have recognized and acknowl-
edged that that was what the Lord meant
when He said : *' Judge not that ye be
not judged. For with what judgment ye
judge, ye shall be judged : and with what
measure ye mete, it shall be measured to
you again. And why beholdest thou the
mote that is in thy brother's eye, but con-
siderest not the beam that is in thine own
eye ? Or how wilt thou say to thy brother,
184
THE RELIGION OF IT
Let me pull out the mote out of thine
eye ; and, behold, a beam is in thine own
eye ? Thou hypocrite, first cast out the
beam out of thine own eye ; and then shall
thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of
thy brothers eye J"
It comes with a flash of recognition that
is refreshingly helpful when we think we
have discovered a practical truth that
works, and then see that it is only another
way of putting what has been taught for
the last two thousand years.
Many of us understand and appreciate
the truth that a man's true character
depends upon his real, interior motives.
He is only what his motives are^ and not,
necessarily, what his motives appear to be.
We know that, if a man only controls the
appearance of anger and hatred, he has no
real self-control whatever. He must get
free from the anger itself to be free in
reality, and to be his own master. We
185
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
must stop and think, however, to under-
stand that this is just what the Lord
meant when He told us to clean the
inside of the cup and the platter, and we
need to think more to realize the strength
of the warning that we should not be
" whitened sepulchres."
We know that we are really related to
those who can and do help us to be more
useful men and women, and to those whom
we can serve in the most genuine way ; we
know that we are wholesomely dependent
upon all from whom we can learn, and we
should be glad to have those freely depend-
ent upon us whom we can truly serve. It is
most strengthening when we realize that
this is the true meaning of the Lord's saying,
'• For whosoever shall do the will of God,
the same is my brother, and my sister, and
mother." That the Lord Himself, with
all His strength, was willing to be depend-
ent, is shown by the fact that, from, the
1^6
THE RELIGION OF IT
cross, He said to those who had crucified
Him, " I thirst." They had condemned
Him, and crucified Him, and yet He was
willing to ask them for drink, to show His
willingness to be served by them, even
though He knew they would respond only
with a sponge filled with vinegar.
We know that when we are in a hard
place, if we do the duty that is before us,
and keep steadily at work as well as we
can, that the hard problem will get worked
through in some way. We know that
this is true, for we have proved it over
and over ; but how many people realize
that it is because the Lord meant what
He said . when He told us : to " take no
thought for the morrow, for the morrow
will take thought for the things of itself."
I am reasoning from the proof of the
law to the law itself
There is no end to the illustrations that
we might find proving the spiritual com-
187
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
mon sense of the New Testament and, if
by working first in that way, we can get
through this fog of tradition, of sentimen-
tahty, and of reHgious emotion, and find
the hving power of the book itself, then
we can get a more and more clear compre-
hension of the laws it teaches, and will,
every day, be proving their practical
power in all our dealings with life and
with people. Whether we are wrestling
with nature in scientific work, whether we
are working in the fine arts, in the com-
mercial world, in the professional world,
or are dealing with nations, it is always
the same, — we find our freedom to work
fully realized only when we are obedient
to law, and it is a wonderful day for any
human being when he intelligently recog-
nizes and finds himself getting into the
current of the law of the New Testament.
The action of that law he sees is real,
and everything outside he recognizes as
188
THE RELIGION OF IT
unreal. In the light of the new truth,
we see that many things which we have
hitherto regarded as essential, are of
minor importance in their relation to life
itself.
The old lady who said to her friend, " My
dear, it is impossible to exaggerate the
unimportance of things," had learned what
it meant to drop everything that interferes,
and must have been truly on her way to
the concentration which should be the
very central power of all life, — obedience
to the two great commandments.
Concentration does not mean straining
every nerve and muscle toward obedience,
it means dropping every thing that inter-
feres. If we drop everything that inter-
feres with our obedience to the two great
commandments, and the other laws which
are given us all through the New Testa-
ment to help us obey, we are steadily
dropping all selfish resistance, and all
189
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
tendency to selfish responsibility ; and in
that steady effort, we are on the only
path which can by any possibility lead
us directly to freedom.
190
XIII
About Christmas
THERE was once a family who
had a guest staying with them ;
and when they found out that he
was to have a birthday during his visit
they were all delighted at the idea of cel-
ebrating it. Days before — almost weeks
before — they began to prepare for the
celebration. They cooked and stored a
large quantity of good things to eat, and
laid in a stock of good things to be
cooked and prepared on the happy day.
They planned and arranged the most beau-
tiful decorations. They even thought over
and made, or selected, little gifts for one
another ; and the whole house was in
hurry and confusion for weeks before the
birthday came. Everything else that was
191
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
to be done was postponed until after the
birthday ; and, indeed, many important
things were neglected.
Finally the birthday came, the rooms
were all decorated, the table set, all the
little gifts arranged, and the guests from
outside of the house had all arrived. Just
after the festivities had begun a little child
said to its mother: "Mamma, where is
the man whose birthday it is — "
" Hush, hush," the mother said, " don't
ask questions."
But the child persisted, until finally the
mother said : '* Well, 1 am sure I do not
know, my dear, but I will ask."
She asked her neighbor, and the neigh-
bor looked surprised and a little puzzled.
"Why," she said, "it is a celebration,
we are celebrating his birthday, and he is
a guest in the house."
Then the mother got interested and
curious herself.
192
ABOUT CHRISTMAS
" But where is the guest ? Where is
the man whose birthday it is ? " And,
this time she asked one of the family.
He looked startled at first, and then in-
quired of the rest of the family.
" Where is the guest whose birthday it
is ? " Alas I nobody knew. There they
were, all excited and trying to enjoy
themselves by celebrating his birthday,
and he, — some of them did not even
know who he was I He was left out and
forgotten I
When they had wondered for a little
while they immediately forgot again, and
went on with their celebrations, — all ex-
cept the little child. He slipped out of
the room and made up his mind to find
the man whose birthday it was, and,
finally, after a hard search, he found him
upstairs in the attic, — lonely and sick.
He had been asked to leave the guest-
room, which he had occupied, and to
13 193
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
move upstairs, so as to be out of the way
of the preparations for his birthday. Here
he had fallen ill, and no one had had time
to think of him, excepting one of the
humbler servants and this little child.
They had all been so busy preparing for
his birthday festival that they had for-
gotten him entirely.
This is the way it is with most of us at
Christmas time.
Whenever we think of a friend, or even
an acquaintance, we think of his various
qualities, — not always in detail, but as
forming a general impression which we
associate with his name. If it is a friend
whom we love and admire, we love, espe-
cially on his birthday, to dwell on all that
is good and true in his character ; and at
such times, though he may be miles away
in body, we find ourselves living with him
every hour of the day, and feel his pres-
ence, and, from that feeling, do our daily
194
ABOUT CHRISTMAS
tasks with the greater satisfaction and
joy-
Every one in this part of the world, of
course, knows whose birthday we celebrate
on the twenty-fifth of December. If we
imagine that such a man never really
existed, that he was simply an ideal char-
acter, and nothing more, — if we were to
take Christmas Day as the festival of a
noble myth, — the ideal which it repre-
sents is so clear, so true, so absolutely
practical in the way it is recorded in the
book of his life, that it would be a most
helpful joy to reflect upon it, and to try
and apply its beautiful lessons on the day
which would especially recall it to our
minds.
Or, let us suppose that such a man
really did exist, — a man whose character
was transcendently clear and true, quiet,
steady, and strong, — a man who was full
of warm and tender love for all, — who
195
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
was constantly doing good to others with-
out the sHghtest display or self-assertion, —
a man who was simple and humble, —
who looked the whole world in the face
and did what was right, — even though
the whole respectable world of his day
disapproved of him, and even though this
same world attested in the most emphatic
manner that he was doing what was dan-
gerous and wicked, — a man with spiritual
sight so keen that it was far above and
beyond any mere intellectual power, — a
sight compared to which, what is com-
monly known as intellectual keenness is,
indeed, as darkness unto light ; a man with
a loving consideration for others so true
and tender that its life was felt by those
who merely touched the hem of his gar-
ment. Suppose we knew that such a man
really did live in this world, and that the
record of his life and teachings constitute
the most valuable heritage of our race, —
196
ABOUT CHRISTMAS
what new life it would give us to think of
him, especially on his birthday, — to live
over, so far as we were able, his qualities
as we knew them ; and to gain, as a
result, new clearness for our own every-
day lives. The better we knew the man,
the more clearly we could think of him,
and the more full our thoughts would be of
living, practical suggestions for daily work.
But now just think what it would mean
to us if we really knew that this humble,
loving man were the Creator of the uni-
verse— the very God — who took upon
Himself our human nature with all its
hereditary imperfections ; and, in that hu-
man nature met and conquered every
temptation that ever was, or ever could
be possible to man ; thus — by self-con-
quest — receiving all the divine qualities
into his human nature, and bringing them
into this world within reach of the hearts
and minds of all men, to give light and
197
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
warmth to their Hves, and to enable them
to serve each other ; — if we could take
this view of the man's Ufe and work,
with what quiet reverence and joy should
we celebrate the twenty-fifth of Decem-
ber as a day set apart to celebrate His
birth into the world I
If we ourselves loved a truthful, quiet
way of living better than any other way,
how would we feel to see our friends pre-
paring to celebrate our birthday with
strain, anxiety, and confusion ? If we
valued a lo^nng consideration for others
more than anything else in the world,
how would it affect us to see our friends
preparing for the festival with a forced
sense of the conventional necessity for
giving ?
" Who gives himself with his gift feeds three, —
Himself, his hungry neighbor, and Me."
That spirit should be in every Christ-
mas gift throughout Christendom. The
198
ABOUT CHRISTMAS
most thoughtless man or woman would
recognize the truth if they could look at
it quietly with due regard for the real
meaning of the day. But after having
heard and assented to the truth, the
thoughtless people would, from force of
habit, go on with the .same rush and
strain.
It is comparatively easy to recognize
the truth, but it is quite another thirfg
to habitually recognize your own disobe-
dience to it, and compel yourself to shun
that disobedience, and so habitually to
obey, — and to obey it is our only means
of treating the truth with real respect.
When you ask a man, about holiday time,
how his wife is, not uncommonly he will-
say: —
" Oh, she is all tired out getting ready
for Christmas."
And how often we hear the boast : —
" I had one hundred Christmas presents
199
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
to buy, and I am completely worn out
with the work of it."
And these very women who are tired
and strained with the Christmas work,
" put on an expression " and talk with
emotion of the beauty of Christmas, and
the joy there is in the " Christmas feeling."
Just so every one at the birthday party
of the absent guest exclaimed with de-
light at all the pleasures provided, al-
though the essential spirit of the occasion
contradicted directly the qualities of the
man whose birthday it was supposed to
honor.
How often we may hear women in the
railway cars talking over their Christmas
shopping : —
" I got so and so for James, — that will
do for him, don't you think so ? "
And, when her companion answers in
the affirmative, she gives a sigh of relief,
as if to say, now he is off my mind I
200
ABOUT CHRISTMAS
Poor woman, she does not know what
it means to give herself with her gift.
She is missing one of the essentials of the
true joy of Christmas Day. Indeed, if all
her gifts are given in that spirit, she is
directly contradicting the true spirit of
the day. How many of us are uncon-
sciously doing the same thing because of
our habit of regarding Christmas gifts
as a matter of conventional obligation.
If we get the spirit of giving because
of Him whose birthday it is, we shall love
to give, and our hearts will go out with
our gifts, — and every gift, whether great
or small, will be a thoughtful message of
love from one to another. There are
now many people, of course, who have
this true spirit of Christmas giving, and
they are the people who most earnestly
wish that they had more. Then there
are many more who do not know the
spirit of a truly thoughtful gift, but would
201
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
be glad to know it, if it could once be
brought to their attention.
We cannot give in a truly loving spirit
if we give in order that we may receive.
We cannot give truly in the spirit of
Christmas if we rush and hurry, and feel
strained and anxious about our gifts.
We cannot give truly if we give more
than we can afford.
People have been known to give noth-
ing, because they could not give some-
thing expensive ; they have been known
to give nothing in order to avoid the
trouble of careful and appropriate selec-
tion : but to refrain from giving for such
reasons is as much against the true spirit
of Christmas as is the hurried, excited
gift-making of conventionality.
Even now there is joy in the Christmas
time, in spite of the rush and hurry and
selfishness, and the spirit of those who
keep the joy alive by remembering whose
202
ABOUT CHRISTMAS
birthday it is, serves as leaven all over
the world.
First let us remember what Christmas
stands for, and then let us try to realize
the qualities of the great personality which
gave the day its meaning and significance,
— let us honor them truly in all our cele-
brations. If we do this, we shall at the
same time be truly honoring the quali-
ties, and respecting the needs of every
friend to whom we give, and our gifts,
whether great or small, will be full of the
spirit of discriminating affection. Let us
realize that in order to give truly, we
must give soberly and quietly, and let us
take an hour or more by ourselves to
think over our gifts before we begin to
buy or to make them. If we do that the
helpful thoughts are sure to come, and
new life will come with them.
A wise man has described the difference
between heaven and hell by saying that
203
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
in heaven, every one wants to give all that
he has to every one else, and that in hell,
every one wants to take away from others
all they have. It is the spirit of heaven
that belongs to Christmas.
204
XIV
To Mothers
MOST mothers know that it is
better for the baby to put him
into his crib and let him go
quietly to sleep by himself, than to 'rock
him to sleep or put him to sleep in his
mother's arms.
Most mothers know also the difficulty
of getting the baby into the right habit of
going to sleep, and the prolonged crying
that has to be endured by both mother
and baby before the habit is thoroughly
established.
Many a mother gets worn out in hsten-
ing to her crying child, and goes to bed tired
and jaded, although she has done nothing
but sit still and listen. Many more, after
listening and fretting for a while, go and
205
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
take up the baby, and thus they weaken
him as well as their own characters.
A baby who finds out, when he is two
months old, that his mother will take him
up if he cries, is also apt to discover, if he
cries or teases enough, that his mother
will let him have his own way for the rest
of his life.
The result is that the child rules the
mother, rather than the mother the child ;
and this means sad trouble and disorder
for both.
Strong, quiet beginnings are a most
valuable help to all good things in life,
and if a young mother could begin by
learning how to sit quietly and restfully
and let her baby cry until he quieted down
and went to sleep, she would be laying
the foundation for a very happy hfe with
her children.
The first necessity, after having seen
that nothing is hurting him and that he
206
TO MOTHERS
really needs nothing, is to be willing that
he should cry. A mother can make her-
self willing by saying over and over to
herself, "It is right that he should cry ;
I want him to cry until he has learned to
go to sleep quietly by himself He will
be a stronger and a more healthy man for
getting into all good habits as a child."
Often the mothers spirit is willing, or
wants to be willing, but her nerves rebel.
If, while she is teaching herself to listen
quietly, she will take long, quiet breaths
very steadily for some time, and will occupy
herself with interesting work, she will find
it a great help toward dropping nervous
resistance.
Children are much more sensitive than
most people know, and readily respond to
the mother's state of mind ; and even
though the mother is in the next room, if
she is truly dropping her nervous resist-
ance and tension, the baby will often stop
207
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
his crying all the sooner, and besides, his
mother will feel the good effects of her
quiet yielding in her care of the baby all
day long. She will be rested instead of
tired when the baby has gone to sleep.
She will have a more refreshing sleep her-
self, and she will be able to care for the
baby more restfully when they are both
awake.
It is a universal rule that the more
excited or naughty the children are, the
more quiet and clear the mother should
be. A mother who realizes this for the
first time, and works with herself until she
is free from all excited and strained resist-
ance, discovers that it is through her care
for her children that she herself has learned
how to live. Blessed are the children who
have such a mother, and blessed is the
mother of those children 1
It is resistance — resistance to the
naughtiness or disobedience in the child
208
TO MOTHERS
that not only hurts and tires the mother,
but interferes with the best growth of the
child.
" What ! " a mother may say, " should
I want my child to be naughty ? What
a dreadful thing I "
No, we should not want our children to
be naughty, but we should be willing that
they should be. We should drop resist-
ance to their naughtiness, for that will
give us clear, quiet minds to help them
out of their troubles.
All vehemence is weak ; quiet, clear
decision is strong ; and the child not only
feels the strength of the quiet, decisive
action, but he feels the help from his
mother's quiet atmosphere which comes
with it. If all parents realized fully that
the work they do for their children should
be done in themselves first, there would
soon be a new and wonderful influence
perceptible all about us.
H 209
THE FREEDOM OF LIFE
The greatest difficulty often comes from
the fact that children have inherited the
evil tendencies of their parents, which the
parents themselves have not acknowledged
and overcome. In these cases, most of all,
the work to be done for the child must
first be done in the parents.
A very poor woman, who was living in
one room with her husband and three chil-
dren, once expressed her delight at having
discovered how to manage her children
better : " I see I " she said, " the more I
hollers, the more the children hollers ;
now I am not going to holler any more."
There is " hollering " of the voice, and
there is "hollering" of the spirit, and
children echo and suffer from both.
The same thing is true from the time
they are bom until they are grown up,
when it should be right for them to be
their own fathers and mothers, so far as
their characters are concerned, that they
2IO
TO MOTHERS
can receive the greatest possible help from
their parents through quiet non-resistance
to their naughtiness, combined with firm
decision in demanding obedience to law, —
a decision which will derive its weight and
influence from the fact that the parents
themselves obey the laws to which they
require obedience.
Thus will the soul of the mother be
mother to the soul of her child, and the
development of mother and child be
happily interdependent.
It is, of course, not resisting to be
grieved at the child's naughtiness, — for
that grief must come as surely as penitence
for our own wrongdoing.
The true dropping of resistance brings
with it a sense that the child is only given
to us in trust, and an open, loving willing-
ness leaves us free to learn the highest way
in which the trust may be fulfilled.
211
Power Through Repose
By ANNIE PAYSON CALL
New Edition, with three additional chapters. i6mo. $i.00
Read what is said of this almost indispensable book
The gospel of relaxation, ... a book, that ought to be in the
hands of every teacher and student in America of either sex. —
Professor William James, " Talks to Teachers on Psychology.''''
We advise all readers — and especially women — to read
"Power Through Repose." ... It will do much good to
all. — N. r. Journal (Editorial).
No intelligent person will read this book without conscious
profit, or even, perhaps, without some very special benefit.
— Church Standard, Philadelphia.
^s a Matter of Course
By ANNIE PAYSON CALL
l6mo. $1.00
Miss Call's first book brought rest and strength to hundreds of
nervously exhausted women. The second is to further help
nervous sufferers along the road to well-being and is rich in rest-
ful suggestions. — Boston Transcript.
In her later book, entitled "As a Matter of Course," the
gospel of moial relaxation, of dropping things from the mind,
is preached with equal success. — Professor William James.
LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers
254 Washington Street • Boston, Mass.
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