beast, flower, animal, or in man, or in man as the future angel or archangel, and ascending still to grades of mind and grades of power higher and higher still; but ever and ever looking to the source whence comes their power, and never, never worshipping any one form of such expression, and by so doing making the “creature greater than the Creator.”
That power is to-day working on and in and through every man, woman, and child in this planet. Or, to use the biblical expression, it is “God working in us and through us.” We are all parts of the Infinite Power,—a power ever carrying us up to higher, finer, happier grades of being.
Every man or woman, no matter what may be their manner of life or grade of intellect, is a stronger and better man or woman than ever they were before, despite all seeming contradiction. The desire in human nature, and all forms of nature or of spirit expressed through matter, to be more and more refined is, up to a certain growth of mind, an unconscious desire. The god Desire is at work on the lowest drunkard rolling in the gutter. That man’s spirit wants to get out of the gutter. It is at work on the greatest liar, prompting him, if ever so feebly, that the truth is better. It is at work on people you may call despicable and vile. When Christ was asked how often a man should be forgiven any offence, he replied in a manner indicating that there should be no limit to the sum of one man or woman’s forgiveness for the defects or immaturity in another. There should be no limit to the kind and helpful thought we think or put out toward another person who falls often, who is struggling with some unnatural appetite. It is a great evil, often done unconsciously, to say or think of an intemperate man, “Oh, he’s gone to the dogs. It’s no use doing any thing more for him!” because, when we do this, we put hopeless, discouraging thought out in the air. It meets that person. He or she will feel it; and it is to them an element retarding their progress out of the slough they are in, just as some person’s similar thought has retarded us in our effort to get out of some slough we were in or are in now,—slough of indecision; slough of despondency; slough of ill-temper; slough of envious, hating thought.
Yet the spirit of man becomes the stronger for all it struggles against. It becomes the stronger for struggling against your censorious, uncharitable thought, until at last it carries a man or woman to a point where they may in thought say to others, “I would rather have your approbation than your censure. But I am not dependent on your approbation or censure, for my most rigid judge and surest punishment for all the evil I do comes of my own mind,—the god or goddess in myself from whose judgment, from whose displeasure, there is no escaping.” Yet as the spirit grows clearer and clearer in sight, so does that judge in ourselves become more and more merciful for its own errors; for it knows that, in a sense, as we refine from cruder to finer expression, there must be just so much evil to be contended against, fought against, and finally and inevitably overcome. Every man and woman is predestined to a certain amount of defect, until the spirit overcomes such defect; and overcome it must, for it is the nature of spirit to struggle against defect. It is the one thing impossible for man to take this quality out of his own spirit,—the quality of ever rising toward more power and happiness.
If you make this an excuse to sin, or commit excess, or lie or steal or murder, and say, “I can’t help it; I’m predestined to it,” you will be punished all the same, not possibly by man’s law, but by natural or divine law which has its own punishments for every possible sin,—for murder or lust or lying or stealing or evil thinking or gluttony; and these punishments are being constantly inflicted, and to-day thousands on thousands are suffering for the sins they commit in ignorance of the law of life; and the pain of such punishment has grown so great, and bears so heavily on so many, that there is now a greater desire than ever to know more of these laws; and for that very reason is this desire being met, and these questions are being answered; for it is an inevitable law of nature that what the human mind demands, that it, in time, gets; and the greater the number of minds so demanding, the sooner is the demand met, and the questions answered. Steam but a few years ago relatively met the demand of human mind for greater speed in travel. Electricity met a demand for greater speed in sending intelligence from man to man. These are but as straws pointing to the discovery and use of greater powers, not only in elements outside of man, but in the unseen elements which make man and woman; in the elements unseen which make you and I.
Henceforth our race will commence to be lifted out of evil or cruder forms of expression, not by fear of the punishments coming through violation of the law; but they will be led to the wiser course through love of the delight which comes of following the law as we discover it for ourselves. You eat moderately, because experience has taught that the greater pleasure comes of moderation. You are gentle, kind, and considerate to your friend, not that you have constantly before your mind the fear of losing that friend if you are not kind and considerate, but because it pleases you, and you love the doing of kind acts. Human law, and even divine law as interpreted by human understanding, have ever been saying in the past, “You must not do this or that, or you’ll feel the rod.” God has been pictured as a stern, merciless, avenging deity. The burden of the preacher’s song has been Penalty and Punishment! Punishment and Penalty! Humanity is to forget all about penalty and punishment, because it is to be won over, and tempted to greater goodness, to purity and refinement by the ever-increasing pleasures brought us as we refine. The warning of penalty was necessary when humanity was cruder. It could only be reached by the rod. The race was blind, and as a necessity of its condition it had to be kept somewhere near the right path by a succession of painful prods and pokes with the sharp goad of penalty. But when we begin to see clearer, as now the more quickened and sensitive of our race does begin to see, we need no rod, no more than you need a man with a club to prevail on you to go to a feast.
V.
FORCE, AND HOW TO GET IT.
Thoughts are Things.
If a medicine was found which would put in a man or woman, boy or girl, force or force of character,—power and capacity to do business, power to influence and govern,—such a medicine would have a very ready sale. Yet keeping yourself in a certain condition of mind will add continually to your force or force of character; and whatever you so add through keeping in this condition can never be lost. That condition is the keeping of the mind in the constant desire for force. Desire for a thing or a quality of mind is a power always drawing that thing or quality to you, whether that thing or quality be for good or evil.
Force is an unseen substance as real as any thing you see. The more of force you call to you, the more and more power do you gather to attract force to you, because like attracts like in all elements, seen or unseen. Globules of quicksilver mingle and form one mass; trees of the same species grow together; sheep herd with sheep and not with cows; tramps consort with tramps, because dejected, weak, despondent human spirit naturally runs to other dejected, despondent, unaspiring human spirit; just as men of force, push, and determination naturally drift, associate, plan, and work with other men of force, push, and determination.
What is force? If you have a purpose, a project, a business, and in presenting it or pushing it on people who may at first be indifferent or hostile to it, and in so pushing and presenting it you can always keep up your spirits, your energy, your confidence, and your enthusiasm in that business, you have force. If, after a few attempts, you become discouraged, disheartened, and despondent you lack force. The pedler who goes from door to door and persists in offering his wares despite all rebuffs and snubs and doors slammed in his face, and keeps up all the while a cheerful mood, has force. That pedler is winning his way up to a larger business. It was Cyrus W. Field’s force that made at last the Atlantic cable a success, despite failure after failure, and breakage after breakage, and the invectives and growls of enraged and despairing share-holders. That quality in Mr. Field is a spiritual power; and the force in any man or woman that plans a business and persists in it and pushes it into success is a spiritual power; and the very core, root, origin and corner-stone of that power lies in the quiet, persistent
