Love, Life Work | Page 3

never arrive until men cease trying to compel all
other men to live after one pattern.
Most people are anxious to do what is best for themselves and least
harmful for others. The average man now has intelligence enough:
Utopia is not far off, if the self-appointed folk who rule us, and teach us
for a consideration, would only be willing to do unto others as they
would be done by, that is to say, mind their own business and cease
coveting things that belong to other people. War among nations and
strife among individuals is a result of the covetous spirit to possess.
A little more patience, a little more charity for all, a little more love;
with less bowing down to the past, and the silent ignoring of pretended

authority; a brave looking forward to the future, with more
self-confidence and more faith in our fellow men, and the race will be
ripe for a great burst of life and light.
[Illustration]

Time and Chance
As the subject is somewhat complex, I will have to explain it to you.
The first point is that there is not so very much difference in the
intelligence of people after all. The great man is not so great as folks
think, and the dull man is not quite so stupid as he seems. The
difference in our estimates of men lies in the fact that one individual is
able to get his goods into the show-window, and the other is not aware
that he has any show-window or any goods.
"The soul knows all things, and knowledge is only a remembering,"
says Emerson.
This seems a very broad statement; and yet the fact remains that the
vast majority of men know a thousand times as much as they are aware
of. Far down in the silent depths of subconsciousness lie myriads of
truths, each awaiting a time when its owner shall call it forth. To utilize
these stored-up thoughts, you must express them to others; and to be
able to express them well your soul has to soar into this subconscious
realm where you have cached these net results of experience. In other
words, you must "come out"--get out of self--away from
self-consciousness, into the region of partial oblivion--away from the
boundaries of time and the limitations of space. The great painter
forgets all in the presence of his canvas; the writer is oblivious to his
surroundings; the singer floats away on the wings of melody (and
carries the audience with her); the orator pours out his soul for an hour,
and it seems to him as if barely five minutes had passed, so rapt is he in
his exalted theme. When you reach the heights of sublimity and are
expressing your highest and best, you are in a partial trance condition.
And all men who enter this condition surprise themselves by the
quantity of knowledge and the extent of insight they possess. And some
going a little deeper than others into this trance condition, and having
no knowledge of the miraculous storing up of truth in the subconscious
cells, jump to the conclusion that their intelligence is guided by a spirit
not theirs. When one reaches this conclusion he begins to wither at the

top, for he relies on the dead, and ceases to feed the well-springs of his
subconscious self.
The mind is a dual affair--objective and subjective. The objective mind
sees all, hears all, reasons things out. The subjective mind stores up and
only gives out when the objective mind sleeps. And as few men ever
cultivate the absorbed, reflective or semi-trance state, where the
objective mind rests, they never really call on their subconscious
treasury for its stores. They are always self-conscious.
A man in commerce, where men prey on their kind, must be alive and
alert to what is going on, or while he dreams, his competitor will seize
upon his birthright. And so you see why poets are poor and artists often
beg.
And the summing up of this sermonette is that all men are equally rich,
only some thru fate are able to muster their mental legions on the plains
of their being and count them, while others are never able to do so.
But what think you is necessary before a person can come into full
possession of his subconscious treasures? Well, I'll tell you: It is not
ease, nor prosperity, nor requited love, nor worldly security--not these.
"You sing well," said the master, impatiently, to his best pupil, "but you
will never sing divinely until you have given your all for love, and then
been neglected and rejected, and scorned and beaten, and left for dead.
Then, if you do not exactly die, you will come back, and when the
world hears your