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Part 60

The Seekers · Jessie E. Sampter — chapter 60 of 84 · ~1,152 words · public domain

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SIXTEENTH MEETING

I read Henry’s paper, which expressed his point of view:

“This meeting was spent in talking of Christian Science. We agree that we are seekers for a great truth and complete harmony, which we call God. We also agree in believing in immortality, though we do not know what our existence will be like after that of our present state.

“The difference seemed to lie in our idea of matter, and, as the belief in this is closely connected with the idea of cure, we did not agree on the latter subject.

“I believe that matter is the creation of spirit; and science tells us that no matter ever ceases to exist, though it may change its form. As I understand it, the Christian Scientist says that what we call matter is not permanent, and therefore does not exist at all. But when he says it is not permanent, I think he only considers it as a definite shape, such as a house or a table, and he overlooks its different forms.

“If the Christian Scientist’s idea of matter were correct, his idea of cure would also be correct. I think he says: ‘There is no matter, and therefore, there can be no material suffering. Consequently, all pain and sickness are spiritual conditions.’ To all those who believe in matter as a real and permanent thing, this idea is impossible.”

I said: “I must insist on my ignorance on this subject. Matter to me seems permanent, a something that constantly changes form, unknowable except in form; thus form always seems to me the expression of an idea, that is, of the spirit. I know matter only through spirit or consciousness.” They all agreed.

Now, I said, we would go on to the next law in art, and see what its application might be. Did they like, I asked, to take up each law of art in turn, and see what was its relation to life?

“Yes,” Henry said, “and doing so makes the laws in art much clearer to me. When you tell me their application to life, it helps me to understand their meaning in pictures.”

“That,” said I, “depends upon your temperament. Another might find just the opposite to be true, that knowledge of the laws of art made them clearer in life.”

“Yes,” said Virginia, “I do.”

“The next law,” I said, “is: ‘Art must not be partisan.’”

“It seems to me,” said Marian, “the application of that to life is quite clear already.”

“Why, how would you explain it?”

Evidently one must take sides in life. How, then, not be partisan? Virginia said: “Everything has two sides.”

“Yes,” I answered, “and the question is how to use them both, how to be for, and yet not against. Every work of art is for something; it stands for beauty, order, completeness. But it is against nothing. The moment it stands against something, it is not art. Lincoln’s life shows so well what I mean. I wonder whether you will understand how?”

But they did not. Henry said it was because he stood for the Union, but not against slavery, and looked upon emancipation as only a side issue, to be used for the sake of the Union. The others said still more uncomprehending things, and so forced me to tell them what I meant. I said Lincoln stood for a cause, for an idea, and not against any man. He wanted to win all to his side, to make his side the whole, the Union. Be for a cause, for a purpose, mean something, and strive for its fulfilment; but do not be against persons, against parties. After all, men can be won only if you are also for them, as Lincoln was also for the Southerners. He was willing to work with his political enemies for the Union, since he felt no enmity to men.

“No,” said Henry, “for his Secretary of State, Stanley, was his political enemy.”

The Red Cross nurses are not less at one with the purpose of their country, though they nurse and tend with equal kindness the wounded foe.

“Then,” Virginia went on, “Dickens is not a great artist in those parts of his books where he becomes bitter, and hates the characters of whom he writes?”

“No,” I answered, “surely not.”

“One feels that writer to be much greater,” she said, “who sympathizes with and understands and loves even his worst characters. And I think Dickens has not a good influence in those books where he arouses hatred of people, and does not help the feeling of sympathy.”

We spoke of political reforms—they are quite unformed and uninstructed in social thought—and then went on to school factions. Was it not true that they admired most the boy or girl who worked for a cause, without bitterness against any person? They spoke of class presidents and school parties, and discussed the thing among themselves. Ruth said that the best class president was always the one who had most enemies, for some girls liking her so much, many others were sure to dislike her.

I answered: “The person who stands for a purpose will have many against him, and he will not care. But he will not be against them. And in the end he will win, as Lincoln has won the Southerners. They may still be bitter against the North, but they join the Northerners in honoring Lincoln, the man, for they know he worked for them.

“You may have noticed that so far we have spoken of self-development and personal growth; and to you, at present, that is the most important thing. But I want to speak a few words of sympathy with those we do not know, of our relations with the world of all men.” I said they had too little experience to form definite ideas on that tremendous, complicated thing called society. I wanted to give them only a few of my ideas that might come back to them later, when they understood more.

I said: “I want you to think of society as a big self, as the rest of yourself, as one vast whole, in which each man in so many mysterious ways affects each other man, that none can be right until all are right. Have you ever thought of the relations of people with other people whom they never know, of all the things that are done for us by strangers?”

“Yes,” said Florence, “I have thought of it, for we once spoke of it in another class.”

“Consider it,” I went on, “this table at which we sit, the clothes we wear, the food we eat, everything, everything that we use, is made for us by so many hands, all related to us and all affected by our need and use of them. Have you ever thought what the word Democracy means?”

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