esser ones can
find lodgment therein.
A woman of my acquaintance suffered agonies from seasickness.
She crossed the ocean twice each year, yet seemed unable to accustom
herself to the experience.
On her last voyage her child fell dangerously sick with typhoid fever on
the second day out at sea.
So wrought up was the mother, and so filled with the thought of her
child, that she never felt one moment's seasickness. Her mind was
otherwise occupied.
Now you have filled your mind with a consciousness of your divine right
to health and happiness, and the thought of sickness and disease has no
room.
Yet do not be discouraged if you feel the old ailments and
indispositions returning at times. A complete change in mental habits,
is difficult to obtain in a moment.
Be satisfied to grow slowly. A wise philosopher has said, "It is not in
never falling that we show our strength, but in our ability to rise
after repeated falls, and to continue our journey in triumph."
Avoid talking your belief to every individual you meet. It will be
breaking your string of pearls for the feet of swine to tread upon.
Those who are ready for these truths will indicate the fact to you, and
then will be your time for speech. And when you do speak, say little,
and say it briefly and to the point.
Leave some things for other minds to study out alone. The people who are
not ready for higher ideals of religion and life, will only ridicule or
combat your theories and beliefs, if you force them to listen.
Wait until you have fully illustrated by your own conduct of life, that
you have something beside vague theories to prove your statements of the
power of the mind to conquer circumstance. The world is full to-day of
bedraggled and haggard men and women, who are talking loudly of the
power of mind to restore youth and health, and bestow riches and
success.
Do not add yourself to the unlovely and tiresome army of talkers, until
you prove yourself a doer.
And even after you have shown a record of health and prosperity and
usefulness, let your silent influence speak louder than your uttered
words.
The moment a philosopher becomes a bore, he ceases to be a philosopher.
To Wilfred Clayborn
_Concerning His Education and His Profession_
My Dear Nephew:--I have considered your request from all sides, and have
resolved to disappoint you. This seems to me the kindest thing I can do
under the circumstances.
You have gone
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