Life — September 19, 1901 — page 14: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

EE *«©Dum Vivimus, Vivamus !’’ LITTLE boy of Boston, with a Knickerbocker strain From a giddy graft of Gotham on the Puritanic stem, Was, properly, subjected to a modicum of pain, For shirking the deduction of his daily theorem And playing “odd-or-even” with the hoi pollo: till dark ; But made, when asked if he'd be good, this dissolute remark : ncholy heritage of miserable Man, ligiously considered, would be nothing more, or less, consistent acquiescence in a penitential pla “ With infinite recurrence of di 1 distress “Terrestrial existence is perpetually vexed, “And you emphasize the prospect of annoyance in the next ; “So, com thus the problem, with the lucubrative nerve, I frame a calculation to the following effect— “If you have to catch it anyway, ‘tis prudent to deserve “Not only what you're getting, but whatever you expect !” And he pa Of the self-complac lyzed his parent with the unrepentant grin at sinner who rejoices in his sin. » Dana, Letter from a Burglar. 0 THE EDITOR OF LIFE Sir: ‘The other day I had the privilege of reading in some of the public prints the golden words in which that superb and woman, Mrs. Ella Wheeler Wileox, expounds the divine art of mental healing. It then occurred to me (dare I say, inspired by her glowing page?), that the columns of your valuable and amusing paper contain, not infrequently, a certain levitous dis- paragement of this very cult. Levity, sir, when applied to subjects held sacred by a large number of mankind, cannot fil to be aught but painful, as I hope to show. Recently, in the practice of my profession, that of a burglar, I was pelled to tie a widow and her three children to a superheated stove, in order to discover where the money was laid, which they had that day drawn from the bank. Fortunately for ine, the people had not known Truth as taught by our Mother Eddy and the sublime Wilcox, the housemaids' philosopher, and they were quite unable to resist the delusion that the stove was red-hot. But so ardent am I in the cause, that, while tying up my profits, 1 down a few first principles. In the end, I saw it was ‘They had earlier cooked their supper by the same fire 1 had used, and whatever I might have led them to think about their burns and pains, 1 never could have per- suaded them they had eaten raw meat. But, lest I try your readers’ patience too far, I. pass over this part of Yet 1 must stop to point though I myself say it, seems to fic according to our belief. ‘The I had strung up by the thumbs, in order to make round the stove for the children, But after I had somewhat discourteously interrupted my discourse by begging me to release them, I was in something of a hurry it was nearly time for my supper —and I could not oblige her. ‘Then 1 observed (and truly it was a began to useless, rapid stor} out an observation whic me to be mother not unse rewarding sight for the ardent Scientist) how, as my words sank in, their moanings, little by little, ceased. Itis true the oldest, a pretty little girl of twelve, was unable to place herself in harmony with the Infinite, and continued for some time screaming in a loud and annoying manner. She must her three children had the misfértune to be found dead the next morning, and a friend of mine has been accused of the murder, found guilty, and condemned to be hanged. Needless to say, at this horrible outcome, I was overcome with remorse. Loving-kindness and friendship are among the brightest of our tenets, and where it does not interfere with business, 1 practice them, I resolved to give myself up to the police, and set out post-haste, but on my way I began to reflect. If, thought J, our mortal bodies are a matter of solicitude to that Infinite Spirit of w part, how much more are our souls its care. I immediately set in motion our modus operandi, In cases of bodily illness, we put out of our minds all thought of sickness. We disbelieve in them, Nay more, we know they can't exist. This regimen is of course known to you. I simply and logically enlarged its application to the sick soul. The result was most happy. Crime, that moral disease, no longer exists. I had committed no murder, had tor- tured no children, I threw away my crutches. The crime gone, remorse went with it. I felt ten years younger and fit for any thing. 1 went in and bought a drink; the widow's money paid for it. In the hope of removii ich we are r antagonism, sir, allow me one further reflection. At the b f my friend and of his sad case. Clearly there But stop! I have been unjust to the resources of our glorious gospel. ‘The man is an ardent Scientist. He is at this moment receiving absent treat- ment in the neck from the faithful throughout the land, What with this and his own grand power, | am confident that when the noose pulls tight, and this ‘stuff that dreams are made of" shoots through the trap, he will know, as one of our great teachers puts it, that “evil, sin and sickness exist solely in the imagination and cannot otherwise be This, sir, is why your position pains me. This is why the self- made poetess of the pantry fills me with joy. Since the events I have related took place, 1 have committed two or three murders, and to-night contemplate robbing my mother. But first 1 must make known to those sweet and kindly ladies who are the main prop of our religion, the glorious possibilities of which it is capable, With much respect, sir, I sign myself, for obvious reasons, unly “ Clariseima Virtus.” Manual Labor. “So your son is learning a trade. “Yes. He is to be a novelist.”” r, 1 bethought no help for him, have heen a very wicked child. Sir, the main point of my story lies here. The widow and “BACK WATER, BROTHERS! THIS ROCK WILL HARDLY FURNISH SOUVENIRS YoR OUR DESCENDANTS.” comicbooks.com