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 The Will 
 and The Way 
 
 Indispensable to men and women with ambition to scale the heights of 
 success and accomplishment. Of priceless value to all who desire to 
 improve themselves and their conditions. The first and only book to enter 
 this new field the most important and the most helpful book in the world 
 today. 
 
 i 
 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
The Will 
 and The Way 
 
 A Guide to Self Help 
 and Self Development 
 
 Indispensable to men and women with ambition to scale the heights of 
 success and accomplishment. Of priceless value to all who desire to 
 improve themselves and their conditions. The first and only book to enter 
 this new field the most important and the most helpful book in the world 
 today. 
 
Dedicatorial 
 
 To the men and women who are ambitious, and to those who 
 desire to rise above the ordinary level of mediocrity, this book is 
 earnestly dedicated. 
 
 To those who are in search after knowledge and power, it will 
 be found interesting and instructive from beginning to end. 
 
 It is the birthright of every man to attain success and happiness. 
 Every man is entitled to rise in the world, yet every day we see thou 
 sands of active, able and conscientious men and women fall by the 
 wayside and why? It is because they do not know themselves and 
 do not understand how to use the powers with which they are richly 
 endowed. 
 
 To know how to develop and use these powers, read every word 
 in this book. 
 
 Yours for success, 
 
 LEO C. WENDE, 
 President, Pacific Coast Information Bureau, Los Angeles, Cal. 
 
Introduction 
 
 The men and women who have "done" great things in the world 
 have been "great" believers, not so much believers in the world about 
 them, not believers in the history of the past, but believers in their 
 "own" possibilitis. 
 
 We are often contented to say: "I can t" do this or that, and 
 are ready with the excuse that we are not exactly fitted or qualified 
 for the accomplishment of some particular purpose, when the fact of 
 the matter is that it is simply a lack of determination that stands as 
 an obstruction in the way of the "full" expression of our "God-given 
 powers." 
 
 Today men are attempting more than ever before in the world s 
 history; and endeavor to achieve the greatest results in its various 
 lines. 
 
 Not only in one department of the world s work do we find 
 this awakening and falling into line, but in every field of endeavor. 
 If we wish to climb the hills of achievement and be in company with 
 those who are the potent factors in the progress of the time, we 
 must become fully awakened to our own possibilities, formulate a 
 definite purpose in life, fall in line and keep step with the wonderful 
 advancement of the present. 
 
 No man has any valid reason for being at the foot of the ladder 
 of success. We may conjvfre up reasons for failure, and seek com 
 fort and sympathy in lieu of the satisfaction and exultation which 
 come with the acquisition of our heart s desire, but in the final analysis 
 of the proposition the ultimate is ever the same: somewhere there was 
 a lack of definite plan in the undertakings which we sought to accom 
 plish. The fault lay within ourselves. If the incentive of ambition 
 does not awaken within us the desire to accomplish greater things 
 than ever before; if we fail to note an increase in our capacities as 
 the days go by, we may feel assured that we have suffered ourselves 
 to drop out of line and loiter by the wayside, which means that if 
 we do not hasten our lagging steps we will soon be far to the rear of 
 the column of advancement. 
 
 The bootblack who goes forth with a brave heart, leaving behind 
 him in the dreary home a little sister shivering in her insufficient 
 clothing, telling her to be of good cheer, that he will work for her and 
 soon find food and clothing to make her happy, shows a more con 
 scious relationship to his source of being than hundreds of those situ 
 ated in comfortable quarters, and his belief in his ability to accom 
 plish his desires in the world has often enabled him to build mansions 
 for his sister afterwards. 
 
 That boy does not do those things because he must. He feels 
 
 399556 
 
within him that same impulse welling up which causes the plants and 
 flowers to grow, that awakens the little flower when the first sunshine 
 of early spring warms it. It is the impulse of the inner man that 
 answers the call of opportunity; it is the mainspring of human activity 
 when a human soul says, "1 can," and the boy goes forth sensible of 
 the Infinite harmony in the world, strengthened and warmed by the 
 courage in his own heart. 
 
 Thousands of individuals are taking up the march in the world s 
 progress and accomplishment and the harmony note of agreement 
 in the social, in the commercial, and in the moral life, rings clear 
 above every discord along their pathway. 
 
 The great difference that exists today is found among religious 
 organizations, and they are using every effort to find a means of 
 uniting their forces. They are finding, day by day, that their dif 
 ferences lie more in small things than in any great ideas promulgated. 
 
 Religion and science are gradually reaching the same plane of 
 thought. Their principal difference lies in the fact that religion has 
 yet to comprehend the full meaning of its own heritage. They must 
 awaken to the fact that what ever of power is manifested comes 
 from the God whom they profess to worship. They must comprehend 
 that the only positive working force in the universe is the operation of 
 Divine Law, and whosoever complies with that law gets results. 
 
 When this knowledge comes to them, they will no longer ques 
 tion as to whether or not anything that makes for the good of human 
 ity is the result of God s power. 
 
The Will and The Way. 
 
 Copyright, 1 9 1 4, by L. C. Wende 
 
 There are moments when everything seems mysterious; when the 
 mind seems lost in some strange, bewildered region, and when every 
 effort to clear the atmosphere of thought but increases the darkness 
 and confusion. Even the simplest things of life at such times seem 
 to hide themselves behind some impenetrable veil, and refuse abso 
 lutely to reveal their actions to our strained and yearning vision. And 
 it was in the deep darkness of such a moment that Melville Reardon 
 found himself as he was trying, once again to solve that problem in his 
 life that had confronted his tireless ambition so intently and so long. 
 
 "But there must be an answer somewhere," he thought to himself, 
 "and I must find it without delay. To continue longer in this condi 
 tion of confused uncertainty is beyond human endurance; at any rate, 
 it is beyond the endurance of such a nature as mine; and I here and 
 now resolve to have this mystery cleared up, even though every atom 
 in my being should perish in the attempt." 
 
 "My mind is made up," he continued ; "for a life that is so situated 
 that it cannot satisfy a single desire has no reason to persist for an 
 other moment." 
 
 "No, I will take that back," he calmly concluded, after a few 
 moments of reflection; "nothing can live in vain, even though exist 
 ence for the time being should be little more than a barren waste. To 
 think otherwise is to contradict all the facts in nature and violate 
 the very first principle of reason. But why do I desire so intensely 
 those things, and those things only, that I cannot find, that I cannot 
 reach, that I possibly cannot realize? Why have I been given the 
 power to dream of the rare, the rich, the beautiful, the sublime, but 
 have not been given the power to make my dreams come true?" 
 
 This was his problem, briefly stated, and to him it was a great 
 problem, indeed. If he had been an ordinary man, with no ability 
 and no ambition, his condition and circumstances could not have 
 aroused comment. But he was not; all who knew him admitted that 
 he was a most remarkable man; in fact, to meet him for a few moments 
 was sufficient to come to this conclusion. And all wondered why he 
 was a failure. 
 
 To begin with, he was single, which to him was a calamity; 
 and though he had made scores of attempts to find someone who 
 would receive the limitless wealth of his affections, still something 
 always came in the way. He had always looked upon marriage as the 
 very climax of transcendental bliss, and yet he had been mysteriously 
 prevented from entering into that pleasure sublime. What was the 
 reason? As he looked back upon his varied experiences in this con"- 
 
The Will and The Way 
 
 nection, the mystery of it all grew deeper and darker, until he was 
 almost forced to believe that there was some power outside of himself 
 that was mercilessly ruling his destiny. 
 
 He was well educated; his education was practical, and he was 
 the very embodiment of ability, talent, character and admirable qual 
 ities; and yet he had accomplished nothing. But what was the reason? 
 Again and again he would call for the reason, though without receiving 
 the slightest hint as to some satisfactory reply. 
 
 "To make me hungry," he continued, "and give me no means 
 wherewith to satisfy that hunger is cruelty. And yet something is 
 doing this very thing to me. I am on fire with ambition, but every 
 effort I make to realize even a mere atom of that ambition results in 
 nothing but failure. I am hungering and thirsting for the great, the 
 superior, the lofty, the ideal, and am starving every day upon the 
 husks of inferiority and nothingness. I am constantly longing for that 
 which I can neither gain nor realize, and those very things that I desire 
 so intensely continue, in some mysterious manner, to dwell within the 
 range of my vision, but outside the range of my reach. If I cannot 
 get them, why am I permitted to see them, to ceaselessly long for them, 
 to be wholly disappointed with anything else?" 
 
 To find answers to these questions had been his constant effort 
 for years; he had placed the problem before the best minds that he 
 could find, but he was as much in the dark as ever. Again he pondered 
 to himself, "If I have not the power to realize my ideals, why has my 
 vision been opened to those ideals? Who has taken the pains to open 
 my eyes to that which is not for me to possess? Who has taken the 
 trouble to so confuse the elements of my being that I can desire only 
 that which I possibly cannot reach, no matter how hard I try, or 
 whatever means I employ? Why do I aspire to those supreme heights 
 that superhuman nature alone has the power to reach? Why do I love 
 only that mysterious someone that I never was able to find in tangible 
 form? What is the answer? Who is responsible?" 
 
 Could the Supreme be responsible for his strange condition? No, 
 that was unthinkable, for infinite love could find no pleasure in placing 
 an impassable gulf between a desire and the object of that desire. 
 Infinite love would never create a desire in the human heart without 
 also creating the means through which that desire could be fulfilled. 
 Infinite love would never reveal an ideal that could not be made real, 
 nor cause the soul of man to long for that which sometime, some 
 where, would not be made true. 
 
 Or was nature responsible? But, if so, why did she create the 
 demand and not the supply? As Melville Reardon approached this 
 phase of the subject, he was forced to conclude, "If nature has caused 
 me to long and yearn for that which must forever remain beyond me; 
 if nature has caused me to desire that which I can never secure, and 
 aspire to that which I shall never reach, then what is nature but a most 
 colossal deceiver? Why does she take me again and again to the 
 very heights of all that is marvelous and sublime and hold out to me 
 the promised splendors of a matchless destiny still in store, and then 
 
The Will and The Way 
 
 open my eyes to the stern reality of grinding mediocrity, and tell me 
 that the beautiful vision was nothing but a dream?" 
 
 "No, nature cannot be responsible," he presently thought to him 
 self. "She has wrought too wonderfully and beautifully to possess a 
 single element of deception. She makes every conceivable effort to 
 equalize demand and supply in all her manifold domains; and if she 
 was responsible for my demand she would certainly see that the re 
 quired supply was forthcoming. The cause must be elsewhere." 
 
 "Possibly," he thought, with aroused attention, "it lies in myself. 
 Possibly these unsatisfied desires and uncontrollable ambitions are 
 simply the creations of my own mind. But, if so, there is a contradic 
 tion somewhere. If I have the power to remove the veil of life s 
 unbounded splendor and behold the riches and glory of ambition s 
 lofty dream, why have I not the power to realize that dream? By what 
 strange and inexplicable law in nature can I create such intense and 
 overwhelming desires for something that does not belong in my world 
 and never will? If the nature of my being permits me to desire only 
 that which I can never secure, and aspire only to that which I can never 
 reach, the architectural principle of my mental structure must be ut 
 terly false. But how can that mind be falsely constructed that has the 
 power to mount upon the very wings of truth and ascend to the shining 
 splendor of empyrean heights? How can that principle of thought 
 be false and deceptive that gives me the power to think thoughts 
 that are so lofty, so high, so beautiful and so gorgeously sublime that 
 a million tongues would be required to give expression to their won 
 drous power and glory?" 
 
 "But what can the answer be?" The more he thought of it, the 
 more difficult and complex the problem seemed to become. The more 
 he tried to penetrate the mental darkness that was before him the 
 heavier and more dense became the darkness that met his straining 
 vision. What should he do? He must do something. He could no 
 longer bear to see so much ability, so much ambition and so much 
 energy as he possessed go to waste. True, he could make a living; but 
 anyone in health could do that. To accomplish something of great 
 and extraordinary worth was another matter; and he knew that h^ 
 had the necessary power to do this. That power had been going 
 wrong, but why? That power must be turned into its proper channel, 
 but how? With a desire more deep and more intense than he had 
 ever felt before, every atom in his being was aroused to the very 
 highest pitch of determined resolve, and he vowed then and there 
 that he would find the answer. Through the great intensity of this 
 action of his thought he was suddenly awakened from his reverie, and 
 found himself face to face with his employer. 
 
 "Dreaming again, Mr. Reardon?" 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Spaulding, dreaming again; though not so much dream 
 ing as pondering over the mystery of it all." 
 
 "Mystery of what?" 
 
 "Why that something that gave us the power to dream did not 
 give us the power to make our dreams come true." 
 
8 The Will and The Way 
 
 "Oh, there s no mystery about that at all, Mr. Reardon. Quit 
 dreaming so much and yearning so much, and get down to harder 
 work. That s all that s necessary. You will soon get what you want." 
 
 "You are a successful man, Mr. Spaulding, and I a complete 
 failure; nevertheless, I cannot agree with you." 
 
 "Then how do you account for my success and the success of all 
 men that have used the same method?" 
 
 "And will you kindly tell me what your method consists of? 
 Also, how it is learned and applied?" 
 
 "Yes, it is work; just work; and then more work. There is only 
 one way to succeed, and that way is work." 
 
 "But is there no place for ability or genius in your system? Are 
 those to be considered non-essentials?" 
 
 "No, not at all, for genius is simply extraordinary capacity for 
 work. Ability, talent and genius in all their forms are simply varying 
 degrees of working capacity. The term work covers it all, and the 
 greatest workers accomplish the most invariably." 
 
 "You have lived longer than I, Mr. Spaulding, and you have ac 
 complished much. You are, or, rather, seem to be, a living example 
 of the doctrine you preach; but I cannot agree with you. Your doc 
 trine does not fit my case; nor does it fit the case of thousands like 
 myself. No one has worked harder or more faithfully than I; but, as 
 you know, I have nothing. I have accomplished nothing: and, in the 
 eyes of successful men, I am nothing." 
 
 "You have been here with me only a few weeks, and that you 
 have great capacity for work is evident to me; but if you have worked 
 just as faithfully all your life as you have during the time spent here, 
 I cannot understand why you should not be a great success today." 
 
 "That is precisely the very thing that I am unable to understand. 
 I have stated my case to the most brilliant and the most successful 
 men that I could possibly find, but they all failed to understand, just 
 as you do, why I am a failure. I admit that work, and much work, 
 is necessary; and there is nothing that I love better than work; but 
 there must be something else back of a successful career besides work. 
 If work was the only essential, I would be a millionaire today." 
 
 "You may be impatient, Mr. Reardon. You know you are only 
 thirty, and there are many of our most successful men today that had 
 accomplished nothing at your age. In fact, some of them were com 
 plete failures until forty, and even later. This proves that there is 
 plenty of hope for everybody who wants to push to the front. They 
 will all finally reach their goal. And so will you. Just keep at it. 
 One of these days things will take a turn." 
 
 "It is very good of you, Mr. Spaulding, to speak to me like that. 
 But the fact is, I have been keeping at it for nine years, and you see 
 the results. I have made a resolution today, however, that I feel, 
 somehow, will clear the mystery. I am going to find out where my 
 ambitions and desires originate. There must be someone in this world 
 who knows. When I discover the power that is back of my ambition, 
 
The Will and The Way 
 
 I may also discover that power that can make my ambitions come true. 
 It seems to me that the two powers must come from the same source. 
 At any rate, I am going to search the world over until I find someone 
 who can tell me what I wish to know in this important matter." 
 
 "You are going into the mystery of things rather deeply, are you 
 not, Mr. Reardon? According to my view, success lies in the other 
 direction. In a way I admire you for wanting to get down to rock 
 bottom, but be careful that you do not become a mystical philosopher 
 instead of a man of practical achievement. Personally, I think very 
 little of the man who simply speculates about things. My ideal man 
 is- the man who does things." 
 
 "There we agree perfectly, Mr. Spaulding. I want to do things. 
 That is the reason why I wish to understand that power that can carry 
 my ambition through. But we have talked enough for the present; the 
 afternoon is slipping away, and I have nearly a day s work that ought 
 to be finished before I go home. You know, it was always my privi 
 lege to have to do the work of several men. Every position I ever 
 held confronted me with that circumstance; but I never received more 
 than the pay of half a man. And therein lies another mystery. I am 
 resolved, however, to find someone who can help me clear it all up, 
 and I was never more determined in my life. In fact, for the first 
 time in my life my determination seems inspired with a power that will 
 not give in." 
 
 II 
 
 The two men parted, without saying anything further, and re 
 sumed their respective duties. Richard Spaulding went to his private 
 office and Melville Reardon to what he considered the drudgery of a 
 minor clerk. But during the hours that followed he worked in a dif 
 ferent mood than he had ever known before. He seemed to be two 
 personalities; the one proceeding mechanically with the details of the 
 task before him, the other pondering, as if in another world, wondering 
 what the outcome of his new resolution would be. His mind was made 
 up, however; he was determined to see his purpose through, come 
 whatever may; and the thought of it all gave him an interest in the 
 coming days that was rapidly becoming extreme fascination. 
 
 Thus he continued until nearly the close of the afternoon, when 
 his attention was aroused by the beginning of an event that was to 
 change his entire future. Little did he dream, as he was pondering 
 over his problem a few hours before, that that day would witness the 
 creation of a great desire and the fulfillment of that same desire, all 
 within the space of nine short hours. But things were moving rapidly 
 in his life that day, and he did not realize that his new and determined 
 resolution was the cause. Though it was to be a new experience to 
 him, a new and great day in his budding career. How often had 
 he shed bitter tears over the grim fact that his cherished desires we re 
 never fulfilled, his ambitions never realized, his dreams never made 
 
10 The Will and The Way 
 
 true; but a new day had dawned; things had begun to take a turn 
 far sooner than expected, and a great change was coming over the 
 spirit of his yearning soul. 
 
 "May I see Mr. Spaulding?" inquired a large, smooth-faced gen 
 tleman, with strong features, noble bearing and a kindly expression, 
 that was quietly approaching Melville Reardon s desk. 
 
 "Certainly," was the prompt reply. "Kindly give me your name, 
 and I will have Mr. Spaulding see you at once." 
 
 "My name is Alexander Whiting," he replied, and there was a 
 calmness and a gentle strength in his tone that caused everybody 
 within hearing distance to pause and wonder who this could be; he 
 seemed so different. 
 
 In a moment Mr. Spaulding appeared, and the splendid gentle 
 man before them began to announce his errand. 
 
 "I met a friend on the street a few minutes ago," he continued, 
 after a few preliminary remarks, "and he told me that you wanted to 
 sell your house, Mr. Spaulding. Accordingly I lost no time in coming 
 to learn if it were true, because Mrs. Whiting and myself have for 
 some time desired to live in that particular section of the city. But 
 our only hope was in finding someone who wanted to sell his residence, 
 as there are no more vacant lots there to be secured." 
 
 "That is the truth, Mr. Whiting. My house is for sale; but how 
 your friend came to know it is a mystery to me. I never mentioned it 
 to a single soul until today. I told a distant relative while he was at 
 lunch with me; but he left immediately for the train, and I saw him 
 off. He could not have told anyone in this city. Someone must have 
 overheard our conversation. However, I am very glad that you found 
 it out so soon, Mr. Whiting, and you may state your own time to come 
 and examine the property." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Spaulding; I will speak with Mrs. Whiting to 
 night concerning the best time. She will be most happy to learn of this 
 opportunity, and she will say, as usual, Another case of persistent 
 desire. You know we have almost unlimited faith in persistent desire, 
 and I feel it a privilege to speak a good word for the power of per 
 sistent desire whenever the occasion presents itself." 
 
 "Beg your pardon, Mr. Whiting, for listening to private conver 
 sation," interrupted Melville Reardon, his face flushed with eager ex 
 pectation, "but will you kindly tell me what you mean by the power 
 of persistent desire? That expression seems to have a fascination for 
 me, and I feel that I simply must find out what it means." 
 
 "That makes me happy, indeed," Mr. Whiting replied, his face 
 beaming with a smile that had more sunshine in it than an other smile 
 Melville Reardon had ever seen. "If you are fascinated by that 
 expression," he continued, "you will soon understand it. And it is 
 my conviction that when you do understand it you will have the power 
 to build your own future as you like." 
 
 In a moment the mind of Melville Reardon was trembling with 
 uncontrollable eagerness as his thoughts were wildly flying hither and 
 thither in a strange sea of unutterable emotion; his face was a study 
 
The Will and The Way 1 1 
 
 in crimson, then white, then crimson again, and his tongue refused to 
 obey. This was certainly too much. A few hours ago he had made 
 a resolution, and had inspired that resolution with intense desire and 
 determination; and now, even before the day was done, a stranger had 
 mysteriously come into his presence to tell him the very thing he 
 wanted to know. What was the meaning of it all? Was this another 
 case of persistent desire? But how could it work so soon? Was it 
 because, for the first time in his life, he had given the whole of his life 
 to the spirit of his desire? If so, the secret for which he had longed 
 and yearned and prayed these many years was being revealed at last. 
 And what would the future be? Would he realize the one ruling am 
 bition of his life, and would he find her? A million thoughts were 
 crowding in upon his mind, and he seemed to live a thousand years 
 with every breath. But he was only passing through a storm of mental 
 perturbation; he was not taking advantage of Mr. Whiting s presence 
 to get at the vital facts. Soon he realize this, and made a supreme 
 effort to gain sufficient self-control to speak. Presently he continued: 
 "Mr. Whiting, I have hundreds of questions to ask. I must have this 
 subject cleared up at once. Can you tell me how, where and when it 
 might be done?" 
 
 "I certainly can," Mr. Whiting replied, with a smile that con 
 tained even more sunshine than the one before. "Mrs. Whiting and 
 myself shall be most happy indeed to have you call tonight. We can 
 tell you a great deal about how we passed from poverty, sickness and 
 trouble to health, happiness and plenty. And I shall try to have Cyril 
 Janos, the man who first gave us the secret, come also. He can answer 
 all your questions, and tell you exactly how to proceed from where you 
 are now." 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Whiting, if I had a million hearts, I could thank you a 
 million times with every one of them. Surely my gratitude is un 
 bounded, and my joy supreme. What a wonderful afternoon this has 
 been. It has changed everything; it has turned all my views upside 
 down, and I seem to see the entire cosmos through some newly acquired 
 vision. But the change is wonderful; it will take months, I am sure, 
 before I can become accustomed to the beauty and the glory of it all. 
 But tell me, who is Cyril Janos? If he knows these great secrets he 
 must be most extraordinary; and if so, why have I not heard of him 
 before? I hope he is not a man of mystery, for I have had too much 
 of the mysterious already." 
 
 "No, indeed, there is nothing mysterious about Cyril Janos; he 
 is one of the few who has practically eliminated mystery from his 
 life. But he is not working for the public as yet, and he blows no 
 trumpet, because he is otherwise engaged. He is too busy getting down 
 to the rock bottom of human life, human thought, human power and 
 human possibility. He is what may be termed a master mind in the 
 new school of psychology, though his field of study embraces every 
 thing that is contained in the human domain. Or, you may call him 
 a scientist of the new type, as he differs from earlier scientists in this 
 respect, that he wastes no time on the weighing and comparing of 
 
\2 The Will and The Way 
 
 effects regardless of cause. He is devoting his life to the study of 
 causes, or rather the undercurrents and origins of thought, action, feel 
 ing, desire, will, ambition and the hundreds of factors and forces that 
 arise in the vastness of the mental domain." 
 
 "At last!" shouted Melville Reardon, as he threw his arms in the 
 air, and actually danced with the frenzy of uncontrollable glee. "Now," 
 he continued, "1 shall learn where my ambitions originate, and where 
 those powers may be found that can push my ambitions through. 
 Yes, at last my day has come; the turning point in my life is at hand, 
 and with all the power of my soul I declare it, that my future shall be as 
 brilliant as the noon-day sun." 
 
 The brilliancy of his future was yet to be revealed, but his face 
 certainly did shine as he made this great and inspiring declaration. 
 A new light had come into his life, and it was so strong that it glorified 
 his countenance with the radiant sunshine of his beautiful, illumined 
 soul. To Mr. Whiting, the transformation that was taking place in the 
 soul of that brilliant young man, was a sight that he would have lived 
 a lifetime to see; and he would have gone to any part of the world just 
 to behold such a sight once more. 
 
 "One more question, Mr. Whiting, please, before you go," he 
 continued, as he momentarily came down from the lofty pinnacle of 
 his famous declaration. "You have conquered adversity; you are 
 building your own future as you choose, and you understand some of 
 the greatest truths in the universe; how, then, can you be so calm and 
 self-possessed about it all? It seems to me that you ought to be on 
 fire with enthusiasm." 
 
 "The fact that I am not on fire with enthusiasm is one of my 
 secrets, Mr. Reardon. If you would conquer adversity you must first 
 conquer, or rather control, yourself; and one of the chief essentials in 
 this direction is to be calm and self-possessed." 
 
 With this happy though Mr. Whiting left the office, leaving Mr. 
 Spaulding and Mr. Reardon viewing each other s mingled expressions 
 in a manner that pen could not possibly describe. Strange things had 
 happened that afternoon, and coming developments seemed to indi 
 cate that still stranger things would happen in the near future. That 
 the two men hardly knew what to say to each other at the close of 
 such a day, and upon the departure of such a visitor, was not a matter, 
 therefore, of surprise. Finally, Mr. Spaulding broke the silence as he 
 ventured: "I am certainly curious to know what Cyril Janos is going 
 to tell you tonight, and I shall consider it a great favor if you will say 
 something to me about it in the morning." 
 
 "Most assuredly, I will tell you everything that is not strictly 
 private, and I do not presume that any of his remarks will be of that 
 nature; at any rate, not this time. But, Mr. Spaulding, will you do me 
 a favor in return?" 
 
 "With the greatest of pleasure, Mr. Reardon." 
 
 "It is not at all polite for me to ask, and I shall not feel offended 
 in the least if you refuse to answer my question; but it does seem strange 
 to me that you intend to dispose of that beautiful home." 
 
The Will and The Way 
 
 "Yes, it will seem strange to all my friends and acquaintances; 
 but I am doing it for the sake of my daughter. You know Adeline is 
 a very peculiar girl. She always did live in a different world from the 
 rest of us, but since her mother passed away three years ago she has 
 been more transcendental than ever before. And the strangest part of 
 it is that that mental attitude seems to fit her so perfectly. She is 
 actually growing more beautiful and more fascinating every year. To 
 the young men who know her she is absolutely irresistible; she is con 
 stantly having offers of marriage, and the most splendid offers; but she 
 rejects them all. She says she will not marry until she meets the 
 idol of her dreams, or what she sometimes calls a certain kind of 
 a man. What she means by that I don t know; but I do know that 
 she will never find that certain kind. Such men do not exist, and 1 
 am going to take her all over the world so she may lose her illusion 
 and learn to love some kind of a man that does exist. I want her 
 to marry, and if she will simply come down to earth a little and be 
 sensible on matters of human nature, she can marry, and marry very 
 well, any day she may choose. But what is the matter, Mr. Reardon? 
 Why, you are blushing like a girl." 
 
 "I would like to tell you, Mr. Spaulding; in fact, I must tell some 
 body soon, but not now. My system is keyed up too high from what 
 I have passed through today, and if I should mention this other matter, 
 there might be a reaction, and then a break-down." 
 
 "Another mystery, is it? But you are certainly filled and sur 
 rounded with mysteries; and all of them seem to be overhung with 
 dark and threatening clouds. Tell me, Mr. Reardon, you are not in 
 love, are you?" 
 
 "I am, and I am not." 
 
 "Ah, you love someone whom you are not permitted to love." 
 
 "No, not that. You can never guess, Mr. Spaulding, and yet you 
 know all about it." 
 
 "Well, if you are not the strangest young man I ever saw. The 
 moment I think I understand you perfectly, you do something or say 
 something that leaves me more in the dark than ever before. You 
 must have had some great love affair in the past that turned out sadly. 
 Am I right?" 
 
 "No, you are not. I never had a real love affair in my life." 
 
 "What, a handsome, brilliant young man of thirty, literally boil 
 ing over with emotion and affection, and never had a love affair? No, 
 that is too much to believe." 
 
 "Nevertheless, that is the truth. Though I admit it is the truth 
 from a certain point of view only, and not the truth from all points 
 of view." 
 
 "Say nothing more, Mr. Reardon. The more you talk about 
 yourself the more convinced I become that there is something in your 
 nature that needs to be disentangled. You seem to have the power 
 to be everything, and yet, as you say, you are nothing. What is the 
 answer? You need a physician of some kind, and very much. And 
 I shall certainly be glad if that is what you will find tonight." 
 
14 The Will and The Way 
 
 "That is the truth, Mr. Spaulding. Again I agree with you per 
 fectly. But if I should tell you everything that 1 have passed through 
 during the last nine years, you would positively become speechless with 
 astonishment and surprise. They say that truth is stranger than fic 
 tion; but my experience is even stranger than truth. If you wish, I will 
 tell you all about it in the near future. And tomorrow 1 will tell you 
 about my experience tonight. You may then conclude that you will 
 also want to know something about origins and undercurrents in the 
 human mind." 
 
 "I don t doubt it in the least, Mr. Reardon. I admit that I have 
 an intense desire to go with you; but I am not invited." 
 
 "In that case 1 will intercede for you, and do my very best to 
 get you an invitation for next time. But I must go home and get 
 ready for this disentanglement in my life. I don t claim to be prophetic, 
 but I feel it coming, and I somehow seem to know that all my griefs, 
 my sorrows, my disappointments and my failures are at an end. Some 
 thing seems to be singing in my soul; it seems to be an endless joy- 
 song, for all I can hear is, Joy cometh in the morning. Good-night, 
 Mr. Spaulding, and remember me kindly to Adeline." 
 
 Ill 
 
 When Richard Spaulding came home that night he bore an ex 
 pression that was new to Adeline. He seemed to be half-sad, some 
 thing she had never noticed before, and she silently wondered what 
 was on his mind. But she had little opportunity to wonder very long 
 about that phase of his expression, because she could see something 
 else in his face; and that something else aroused both curiosity and 
 joy in her keenly observing mind. Her father seemed to be a dif 
 ferent man that night. Though he had always seemed to her a re 
 markable man, so much of a man that his nature, during his best 
 moments, seemed almost identical with the "idol of her dreams;" 
 but on that night he seemed to be more of a man than he had ever 
 been before. She could distinctly discern that something new, some 
 thing greater, something more noble had been awakened in his soul, 
 and she was so delighted that it was only with great difficulty that 
 she controlled her desire to ask how it all happened. 
 
 Nothing was said, however, about the change that she observed 
 so distinctly. She did not inquire, and he did not venture to explain. 
 He knew he felt differently, and for the first time in his life he thought 
 he could understand the real nature of his charming daughter. "She 
 is more than clay," he mused to himself; "and that is why everybody 
 loves her, nay more, worships her. But why should we not all be 
 more than clay? Are we afraid of that something in human nature 
 that cannot be seen, or weighed or measured? We seem to be, for 
 most of us fail to give a single thought to the recognition and making 
 evident of that something. And yet it is this immaterial something 
 that makes woman beautiful and man great." 
 
The Will and The Way 15 
 
 Thus he mused and thought and pondered, alternating with fre 
 quent prayers of silent gratitude. What a privilege he enjoyed in 
 being at home with beautiful Adeline. How lovely it was to be in 
 her presence, the reigning goddess of his heart. And yet he had said 
 that very day that he wanted to take her around the world in order 
 that he might give her away to some one who possibly would never 
 understand her nature or appreciate her superior worth. Why had 
 he told his relative that he wanted to sell his house? He had never 
 thought of doing so until that very hour they were at lunch. And 
 why did somebody overhear it? Why should that somebody acci 
 dentally meet Mr. Whiting the very next hour? Why did it all hap 
 pen, anyway? How wonderfully strange it all seemed. But he was 
 certainly grateful that it all did happen. He had met Mr. Whiting, 
 which he considered a great privilege. He knew it would mean the 
 turning of the tide for Melville Reardon, and that brilliant young man 
 certainly deserved the very best that this world can give. Besides, 
 he, himself, the rich and successful Richard Spaulding, was myster 
 iously drawn to those ideas that were to be discussed at the home of 
 the Whitings that night. Why did he want to know anything about 
 those matters? He had accomplished so much. What more did he 
 want? He repeated again and again, "What more did he want?" 
 Yes, there was something more. He had accumulated things; he was 
 surrounded with luxuries; he was living in an elegant mansion; no, 
 he was not living; there was the aching void. He wanted to live; 
 that was the something more that was wanted. On that night he 
 seemed to be on the verge of real life, and the foretaste was creating 
 an intense desire for more. He knew Mr. Whiting was living, not 
 simply existing. He knew that Mr. Whiting had something, what 
 ever it was, that seemed more fascinating than all the wealth in the 
 world. But Mr. Whiting also had wealth, ability, health, a strong, 
 vigorous personality and any amount of common sense. That some 
 thing was an addition and not a subtraction. Why should not every 
 body want it? "Yes," he said, almost aloud, "everybody would 
 want it if they knew what it was." 
 
 There was but little conversation between Adeline and her father 
 that night. She saw that he was thinking of something very impor 
 tant and she would not interrupt. She had the happy faculty of 
 adapting herself perfectly to anyone s condition or frame of mind, 
 and whatever the occasion might demand, she always looked upon 
 it all as a privilege. She was a real girl, indeed ; charming in person, 
 lovely in mind and beautiful in soul. And how supremely happy sne 
 was ever and ever looking for him; always waiting for the "idol of 
 her dreams." When would he come? She didn t know. Where 
 would she meet him? She didn t know. How would she find him, 
 or he find her? She didn t know. But somehow she felt that some 
 thing would soon happen to bring her into the presence of her own. 
 And the thought of that sublime event made her nature so sweet, so 
 pure and so divinely beautiful, that to meet her, though only for a 
 moment, was to worship her memory always. 
 
16 The Will and The Way 
 
 Since the passing of her mother, Adeline had been the ruling 
 spirit of that beautiful home, and most charmingly did she exercise 
 her queenly function. She ruled as if she were absolute monarch, 
 without making any effort whatever to do so. To simply be in her 
 presence was to be willing, nay more, anxious, to do whatever she 
 might wish to have done. She seemed to carry about her an atmos 
 phere that gave peace and comfort to everybody; and though only 
 twenty-two, she could enter understandingly into a sympathetic atti 
 tude with every imaginable trouble in the world; and she could also 
 find the happy word or deed that meant sunshine to all who might 
 come her way. To be with Adeline, just for a few moments; that 
 was enough; and all was well again. But she was not a soul apart 
 from the world. She was thoroughly human in every sense of that 
 term, but the human elements in her nature were so wonderfully 
 blended, that wherever she might be, she was invariably singled out 
 as the one human rose in bloom. And it was such a woman Mr. 
 Spaulding had the privilege to meet every evening as he came home. 
 How could he ever thing of giving her away to a mere man? But it 
 was her happiness he had in mind, and he wanted to arrange for her 
 a splendid match. To Adeline, however, a splendid match did not 
 necessarily mean marriage with a rich man s son. It might be that, 
 but it might also be more; and the time was drawing near when her 
 father would discover that priceless treasure that was hidden within 
 the more. 
 
 How different was everything in what Melville Reardon called 
 his home. Just a small room on the third floor of a building that 
 had known better days. Nothing much there to invite, to cheer, to 
 inspire. True, he had reasonable human comfort, but he was not 
 living and working simply for ordinary comfort. He wanted to ac 
 complish something. He knew he had the ability. He knew he had 
 the power. That was the reason it was so hard to admit that he 
 had failed. Had it been possible to silence his ambitions, he might 
 have been able to reconcile himself to the mere earning of a living; 
 and he had frequently tried to persuade himself that his ambitions 
 were abnormal, mere tempers that could not be destroyed too soon. 
 But such efforts were in vain. His ambitions and his desires for the 
 great and the extraordinary had been growing stronger every day 
 until they had become almost unendurable. It was therefore not a 
 matter of choice but a matter of absolute necessity that he had re 
 solved, with such tremendous determination, to clear up the mystery 
 of it all upon that eventful afternoon. 
 
 He realized this as he was coming home to get ready for a still 
 more eventful night, and asked himself again and again what the rea 
 son might be. Why had he not taken steps to solve the mystery of 
 his life before? Why had he waited until he could endure the wild 
 clamorings of his ambitions no more? He had not taken this step 
 himself. He had been forced to do it by the internal warfare of his 
 own desires. But how had he produced those desires? Why had 
 
The Will and The Way 17 
 
 those desires become stronger and stronger until he could not resist 
 them any longer? 
 
 He would willingly have destroyed his ambitions at any time 
 for the sake of peace; but he could not; and now they had forced him 
 to do something definite in order that their purpose might be ful 
 filled. How strange it all seemed, and how interesting it would be 
 to know where those ambitions originated, where they received their 
 power, and how they could become so strong as to dominate the 
 entire life of the man in whose mind they lived and grew. But he 
 would secure the facts in this great matter tonight; and as he thought 
 of the coming privilege his joy was without bounds. He actually 
 counted the seconds until it was time to go, and he found it prac 
 tically impossible to apply his first lesson to be calm and self- 
 possessed. 
 
 The time to go, however, finally arrived, and in twenty minutes 
 he had reached his destination. As he entered the fashionable Ravona 
 and walked to the second floor to the Whiting apartment, there was 
 a feeling of awe and half dread coming over him, but as the door 
 was opened and he was introduced to the queenly Mrs. Whiting, all 
 unnatural thoughts and emotions disappeared. He felt at once that 
 he was among friends, and it was the first time he had ever felt that 
 way in his life. 
 
 In the past he could never quite believe that his friends were 
 truly his friends. Though he loved them and sought every oppor 
 tunity possible to be with them, still there seemed to be a gulf be 
 tween their worlds and his world. They either seemed to be in 
 capable of fully appreciating him, or he seemed incapable of per 
 fectly harmonizing with them. But he had not been in the presence 
 of Mr. Whiting and his wonderful wife for five seconds before he 
 felt that he was now among his own. And how deliciously sweet 
 was the experience. How it rested his soul, and how his thought 
 seemed to blend with the gentle music of the harmonies that played 
 about him everywhere. It was delightful and beautiful indeed. Yes, 
 it was good to be there. He could almost feel the harmony with his 
 fingers and see the nymphs of gladness dance before his very eyes. 
 
 The moment he was presented to Mrs. Whiting he felt that he 
 was wanted; not simply welcome, but wanted; and how his soul 
 thrilled with joy as he realized the difference between the two modes 
 of reception. He saw at once that he was in the presence of two su 
 perior souls, and he also recognized the fact that their superiority 
 was of higher and finer quality than that which is usually described 
 by such a term. And a hasty glance revealed the fact that every 
 thing pertaining to the home itself was in perfect keeping with the 
 quality of that soul that reigned therein. Nothing was extremely ex 
 pensive nor ostentatiously extravagant; but everything was placed 
 in such a manner that the very climax of exquisite taste was every 
 where in evidence. 
 
 Mrs. Whiting was one of those women that may be described as 
 "divinely fashioned." She was neither too large nor too small. She 
 
18 The Will and The Way 
 
 was nearly perfect in figure, beautiful in every sense of that term, 
 possessing a remarkable degree of living soul, and having strength, 
 kindness and tenderness most wonderfully blended, both in her na 
 ture and in her expression. She was in truth one of the "queens of 
 this earth." She had polish and refinement, intellect and feeling, 
 and was perfectly at home both in the kitchen and in the drawing 
 room. But she did not consider the latter superior to the former, 
 nor vice versa. She could royally entertain the simple-minded as 
 well as the most cultured, for she reached all the octaves on the key 
 board of human nature. She could prepare the most tempting dishes 
 that palate had ever known, and render musical selections fit for the 
 gods. But she had a hobby. She had an extraordinary admiration 
 for people that seemed to possess "the promise of something better." 
 When she met people who she thought had something in them, she 
 would single them out, whether they had ever accomplished anything 
 or not, and invite them to her home at every opportunity. It was, 
 therefore, with the keenest of pleasure that she received Melville 
 Reardon into the genial and soothing atmosphere of the Whiting 
 home that night. 
 
 "Do you know," she said to Melville Reardon, as she invited 
 him to the most comfortable chair in the room, "that I feel more hon 
 ored in having you here tonight than the entire retinue of some reign 
 ing emperor?" 
 
 "Please, Mrs. Whiting," Melville Reardon replied, with cheeks 
 on fire, "do not compliment my presence in such strong terms as 
 that. I shall be utterly at a loss to know what to say in appreciation 
 of such extraordinary kindness. Besides, I am wholly unimportant. 
 1 have accomplished nothing." 
 
 "Therein you are mistaken, Mr. Reardon. You have already 
 accomplished much. In fact, there are less than ten living men in 
 the world today that have accomplished more. Remember, that 
 which is not seen comes first. That which is seen comes later. You 
 will soon know what 1 mean, and the time is near at hand when you 
 will prove that I am right." 
 
 "You may be right, Mrs. Whiting. In fact, I do not doubt in 
 the least that you know exactly whereof you speak. But I must 
 confess, that to me, you are speaking as if in an unknown tongue." 
 
 "Very well, we shall not discuss that matter any further just 
 now. We have something slightly different that will require our at 
 tention this evening. Nevertheless, Mr. Reardon, I wish to repeat 
 that I feel more honored to have you here than any monarch you 
 could possibly mention. And you will add greatly to my happiness 
 if you will candidly believe that I mean what I say." 
 
 Melville Reardon made an effort to reply to what to him was 
 the most extravagant statement he had ever heard, but before he had 
 the opportunity to do so, there was a peculiar ring at the bell; and 
 Mrs. Whiting arose, her countenance beaming as she stated, in almost 
 a whisper, "Cyril Janos is coming." 
 
The Will and The Way 19 
 
 IV. 
 
 When Melville Reardon came to meet Cyril Janos he expected 
 to see a remarkable man, and he was not disappointed. In fact, he 
 was more than pleased, both with the general appearance and the 
 general demeanor of this exceptional personage who was to lead him 
 out of the desert of failure and despair into the pastures green of 
 cherished ambitions made true. And it was not many minutes after 
 the arrival of this remarkable man before the perplexing problems 
 of Melville Reardon s mysterious life were placed under the light of 
 psychological investigation. 
 
 "Will you kindly tell me, Mr. Reardon, if you have any definite 
 ambitions in life?" Cyril Janos began. 
 
 "Yes," replied Melville, his whole being on fire with intensity 
 as those ambitions were beginning to renew their wild clamorings 
 within him, "I have two." 
 
 "When did those ambitions begin?" 
 
 "At about the age of five or six, I think; though one of them 
 began to take shape earlier than that." 
 
 "Did you think a great deal of those ambitions at that time?" 
 
 "I thought of them almost constantly until I was twenty. I am 
 thirty now." 
 
 "Were you very desirous to realize those ambitions, or did your 
 thoughts concerning them take only the form of fancy?" 
 
 "My desire to realize those ambitions were intense almost con 
 stantly, and at times so deep and so strong that I really did not know 
 what to do with myself." 
 
 "But why did you begin to think less of those ambitions after 
 your twentieth year?" 
 
 "To answer that question I must tell you what my ambitions 
 were. My first ambition was to wed a woman of a certain type. I 
 used to call her the one woman of my dreams, and she has continued 
 to be true to that name. She is the only woman I ever dreamed about, 
 and she still lives in my dreams. I have never found her. I fell in 
 love with a real girl when I was twenty, and for the time being forgot 
 the queen of my cherished career. Something came in the way, how 
 ever, and I was prevented, in a very strang manner, from engaging 
 myself to that first girl. I have met a score of girls since whom 1 
 thought I could love, but every time something unexpected has hap 
 pened to spoil it all. It has often seemed to me that a power outside 
 myself has stepped in and stirred up something to prevent me from 
 getting married; though I admit that my soul danced for joy every 
 time one of those love affairs fizzled out into nothing." 
 
 "Your experience is most interesting," interrupted Cyril Janos, 
 "and some time soon I should be pleased to have you relate to me 
 the details in each case. It would give me abundant material for my 
 research. The fact that you were strangely prevented from marry 
 ing any woman who was not the exact counterpart of your one only 
 
20 The Will and The Way 
 
 woman is easily explained, however. But what was your second am 
 bition?" 
 
 "My second ambition," continued Reardon, "was to be highly 
 successful in a certain special accomplishment. But I prefer not to 
 say what it is. If I realize this ambition you will all know its nature; 
 and if I do not, I should prefer to bury it in my own forgetfulness. 
 It is something, however, that has never been accomplished before, 
 but I know it is possible; and if it were accomplished it would go 
 down in history as one of the greatest achievements of this age." 
 
 "But why did you begin to think less of this ambition after your 
 twentieth year?" 
 
 "Because I had to begin at that time to earn my own living; 
 and I could find no opportunity to do so along the line of my special 
 ambition. I, therefore, had to take up other work." 
 
 "Did you feel congenial in that other work?" 
 
 "No, I did not. After I had occupied a position for a few weeks 
 or a few months, I was driven out of it by an uncontrollable desire 
 to do this other thing. 1 simply could find no peace in any line of 
 work, nor stay long enough with any firm to secure promotion. I 
 had to begin at the bottom wherever I went, but before I was suf 
 ficiently familiar with my work to be advanced I had to leave. My 
 ruling ambition would become so strong that life was simply intol 
 erable if I even though of anything else. Then I would try to do 
 something to carry out this ambition, but before I could accomplish 
 anything, my pockets were empty, and I was driven back to some 
 other work, to begin at the bottom once more." 
 
 "The situation is perfectly clear to me, Mr. Reardon. I can 
 tell you exactly what is wrong, why things have happened to you as 
 they have, and how you may proceed to solve your problem. Your 
 two ambitions can be realized; kindly remember that. But when I 
 say so I do not speak in the language of a prophet. There are thou 
 sands who have had experiences similar to your own, only your case 
 is what may be called a marked case on account of the largeness 
 and depth of your mind. We shall explain that later. The cause in 
 each case, however, is the same; and the remedy is the same. This 
 remedy has been applied a number of times and it never fails; in 
 fact, it is one of those things that cannot fail any more than dry wood 
 can fail to burn when placed in the fire. Therefore, when 1 say that 
 you can realize both of your ambitions, I am not theorizing; 1 am 
 simply stating an exact scientific principle. You will accomplish that 
 wonderful something you have in mind, Mr. Reardon, and you will 
 find her. That is the truth. Then let your soul sing with unbounded 
 rejoicing. You have certainly good reason to be happy, even to 
 dance with unspeakable ecstacy. You have a wonderful future be 
 fore you; you have the two essentials to such a future; those two es 
 sentials cannot fail to produce such a future when they once come 
 together; and when the two exist in the same mind, as they do in 
 your case, they finally will come together." 
 
 For a few moments everybody in the room was silent. It was 
 
The Will and The Way 21 
 
 one of those moments when silence alone has the eloquence to de 
 scribe what is felt in the soul. And Melville Reardon, more than the 
 rest, felt that he had entered a silence as deep as the fathomless sea. 
 Was it true after all that everything he had dreamed about was to 
 be realized? Yes, he believed it was. Cyril Janos spoke as one hav 
 ing authority; besides, he was beginning to feel something within 
 him that seemed greater and more powerful than all the failures he 
 could possibly imagine. True, he had felt that same something many 
 times before; but it seemed different now. At other times it had 
 only come in the form of temporary spurts, but now it seemed to 
 take the form of a calm, determined attitude, fully prepared for tan 
 gible action. What did Mrs. Whiting mean when she said, "You 
 have already accomplished much?" Did she mean what he was now 
 beginning to think she meant? Somehow, the mystery of it all was 
 beginning to clear, and he was ready to turn his attention to the 
 scientific analysis of the "cause" and the "remedy." 
 
 "Will you now tell me, Cyril Janos," he finally resumed, "where 
 my ambitions originated, where they gained their power, and why 
 they have become so immensely strong?" 
 
 "That is very simple. In the first place, your mind is excep 
 tionally large and deep. What I mean is that so much of your sub 
 conscious is alive. Therefore, any desire or ambition that you might 
 establish in your mind, would naturally gain a great deal of volume 
 and power. In the second place, you gave your two leading ambi 
 tions almost constant thought for fifteen years or more. You con 
 tinued to build up those two ambitions in your subconscious mind 
 until they jointly became almost absolute monarch in your entire 
 mental domain." 
 
 "That is as clear as crystal," interrupted] Melville Reardon. 
 "And how simple. I am beginning to see it all now. But excuse 
 my interruption. Please continue," he added, his face literally beam 
 ing with eagerness and joy. 
 
 "By the time you were twenty," Cyril Janos resumed, "these 
 two ambitions had gathered so much mental momentum that no cir 
 cumstance or condition that you might encounter in your life could 
 possibly prevent them from finally having their way. Though they 
 have been partially pacified a number of times during the last ten 
 years, they have come forth again each time stronger than ever. And 
 the fact that they will not be downed is proven by your presence 
 here tonight." 
 
 "Oh, but this is interesting," declared Reardon, almost rising 
 from his chair with eager expectation and excited attention. "But 
 tell me before you go further, can the force of a man s ambitions 
 be made so strong as to overcome any adversity that might come in 
 and try to prevent those ambitions from being realized?" 
 
 "That is exactly what I mean," Cyril Janos continued. "Fully 
 establish your ambitions in your mind, and continue to build up the 
 subconscious power of those ambitions. In the course of time tKe 
 force that is back of those ambitions will become so strong that every- 
 
22 The Will and The Way 
 
 thing must move before it. No circumstance, no obstacle, no ad 
 versity can stay its onward march toward the goal it has in view." 
 
 "Talk about good news," Melville exclaimed. "That is a thou 
 sand times better than anything I ever heard. 1 am almost ready to 
 shout; but I forgot I must be calm and self-possessed." 
 
 "And now 1 am going to tell you, Mr. Reardon, how this law 
 has operated in your own life; why things have happened as they 
 have during the last ten years." 
 
 "Yes, thank you a million times, Cyril Janos. That is exactly 
 what I want to know. But I think I can almost guess what you are 
 going to say." 
 
 "Your desire to wed a certain type of woman is so strong in 
 your subconscious mind that whenever you fall in love with another 
 type you soon become wholly confused in your feelings on account 
 of the undercurrent of your ideal* love trying to draw your affections 
 in another direction. Accordingly, your love-making will not ring 
 true; the girl will soon discover this; she will begin to doubt, either 
 in word or in action, and before you know it, you two are having 
 differences, disagreements and possibly quarrels. Or, this deeper 
 desire for the one woman of your dreams may so upset your mind 
 at times that you will say something or do something that will arouse 
 opposition either by the girl or by her relatives. You may say or do 
 these things unintentionally, but the break is made. You lose your 
 suit and deplore the cruelty of fate. Tell me candidly, Mr. Reardon, 
 when you have declared to those other girls, I love you, have you 
 not felt something within yourself speak up and say, No, it isn t so? 
 
 "Yes, Cyril Janos, every time. And, try as I might, that inner 
 feeling would persist. Sometimes it would almost be silent, or be 
 so weak that it was scarcely noticeable, while at other times it was so 
 strong that when the girl before me asked if I loved her, it was with 
 the greatest of effort that I was able to say that I did." 
 
 "You now see clearly, Mr. Reardon, do you not, why you have 
 been prevented from marrying some other girl?" 
 
 "Yes, I certainly do." 
 
 "You were not prevented by Providence, or the cruelty of fate 
 or some force outside yourself. It was your own subconscious love 
 for your queen that was so tremendously strong that it would not 
 permit you to go very far in making love to anyone else." 
 
 "I understand it all perfectly now. And how wonderful it all 
 is. Yes, and I now appreciate the wisdom of that man who said, 
 Never pray for what you really do not want, because you may have 
 to take it. And I am also beginning to understand why we always 
 get what we desire if we desire hard enough and long enough." 
 
 "You are getting down to rock bottom, Mr. Reardon, and 
 though these great laws of the human mind work with equal precision 
 in all individuals, it is the man whose mind is fully awake who must 
 exercise the greatest wisdom in their daily application. A man with 
 a deep, strong, wide-awake mind must invariably follow his deepest 
 desires and his leading ambitions. He must work entirely for his 
 
The Will and The Way 23 
 
 ideals. He must accept nothing less, neither in life nor in love. If 
 he does, he will have trouble in great measure." 
 
 "But my other ambition?" inquired Melville. "Is all my ex 
 perience connected with that explained in the same way?" 
 
 "Practically so. When you found it necessary to do something 
 else to earn your living, you were trying to draw the faculties of your 
 mind into new channels; but the force of your leading ambition had 
 such a firm grip upon all your faculties that it was only for brief 
 periods that you could enlist them in other work. When nearly all 
 the power of your mind is moving in a certain direction, and the 
 force of that power is immense, it is not an easy matter to turn even 
 a small part of that power in some other direction. If you try to do 
 so for any length of time, you will create so much antagonism among 
 your own mental forces that life will become a misery. You will 
 have no peace whatever, and all your joy will be turned into de 
 pression and gloom." 
 
 "That looks all very simple to me; possibly -because I have gone 
 through it all. But does this same thing take place in every mind?" 
 
 "No, not in every mind, but it does in most minds to some de 
 gree. The small mind that has no definite ambitions can turn its 
 attention to almost any occupation with perfect ease; and the same 
 is true of large minds that have no particular aim in life. But any 
 mind, be it large or small, that has a definite aim in life, should begin 
 to work at once for that aim. Otherwise there will be trouble, un- 
 happiness and failure. And permit me to say, Mr. Reardon, that if 
 this principle was universally understood and applied, ninety-nine per 
 cent of the failures in the world would cease to be." 
 
 "You are making a strong statement, Cyril Janos; though I con 
 fess I am compelled to agree with you. There is a problem, how 
 ever, in this connection that would have to be solved before most 
 of us could carry out your principle. Suppose a man can find no op 
 portunity to earn his living in the field of his leading aim, what is 
 he going to do?" 
 
 "The solution is simple. Let him accept the first and the best 
 opportunity he can find to earn his living, and while thus engaged, 
 continue to prepare the way for his leading aim. The force of your 
 leading ambition will not interfere, subconsciously, with any tem 
 porary occupation, if it is thoroughly understood that that temporary 
 occupation is to be simply one of the means through which the lead 
 ing ambition is to be realized." 
 
 "I understand what you mean, and I shall proceed to apply that 
 idea in my own temporary occupation; but if I should not succeed 
 as well as I might wish, may I ask you to explain this matter further 
 some time in the near future?" 
 
 You certainly may; though I wish to speak to you further on 
 this subject anyway at the earliest possible opportunity. To know 
 how to effectually combine temporary necessity with permanent am 
 bition, is one of the great stumbling blocks in human life. It is there 
 that the majority fail. But any person can so adapt himself to a 
 
24 The Will and The Way 
 
 temporary occupation and temporary conditions, as to further directly 
 the real purpose he has in view. And if he will continue, in the mean 
 time, to build up the subconscious power of his leading ambition, 
 the force of that ambition will soon be strong enough to clear the 
 way for its own realization. If a man has a desire to fill a large posi 
 tion, he will not have to remain in a small position very long, pro 
 viding his ambition to enter the larger position is made deeper and 
 stronger every day." 
 
 "Yes, I see it all now, Cyril Janos, and to say that my gratitude 
 to you is without limit, without bounds and without end, is to state 
 it mildly indeed. And 1 know that I shall have the privilege to come 
 and consult you whenever 1 may deem it necessary." 
 
 "Do not ask me for that privilege, Mr. Reardon. Let me rather 
 ask to have the pleasure to meet you whenever convenient. And 
 do not thank me for clearing up a few mysteries for you tonight. 
 You, yourself, are the cause of your being here at this time; and per 
 mit me to state that my meeting with you, and the assurance of your 
 friendship, will mean more to me in the near future than anything 
 else that could have happened. 1 could tell you this very minute what 
 I refer to, and prove to you here and now that my statement is not 
 extravagant. But there are times when actions speak more elo 
 quently, more forcibly and more comprehensively than words. And 
 in this case we shall let the action speak. Wait for it. The time is 
 not far away." 
 
 V. 
 
 The personal interview between what Mrs. Whiting called "the 
 two most remarkable men she had ever known" was brought to a 
 close. Mr. and Mrs. Whiting had continued in silent admiration, but 
 were now invited to take part in the general conversation that fol 
 lowed. This privilege, and Mrs. Whiting called it a privilege, was 
 acknowledged by her in the highest terms of pleasure. She loved 
 to talk, far more so, it was said, than any other woman that anybody 
 had ever met. But she had never been known to talk without saying 
 something. 
 
 At the close, however, of this exceptional interview, an interview 
 that was to marke the beginning of some of the greatest achievements 
 recorded in history, the opportunities for Mrs. Whiting s brilliant con 
 versational talents were not as numerous as might have been desired. 
 To comply with his regular habits, Cyril Janos soon found it neces 
 sary to take his departure; and after an affectionate "Good-night" 
 to his two most devoted friends and his remarkable new-found friend, 
 he departed for his own home. 
 
 "What do you think of Cyril Janos?" asked Mrs. Whiting, in 
 a gentle, expectant tone, as she turned smilingly to Melville Reardon. 
 
 "To tell you what 1 think," he immediately replied, "would re 
 quire more time than we could spare tonight. There is too much in 
 
The Will and The Way 25 
 
 him to be described in a few minutes; besides, I would rather see him 
 a second time before I give my opinion." 
 
 "Very well, Mr. Reardon, but let me give you fair warning. 
 After you have seen him a_ second time you will think twice as much 
 of him, and it will take twice as long to tell me about it. You see 
 very little of Cyril Janos the first time you meet him. The second 
 time you see far more. In fact, every time you meet him he seems 
 to be twice as large in mind and soul, twice as great and twice as 
 wonderful as he was the time before." 
 
 "That seems strange, indeed. And how interesting it would 
 be if all our friends were that way. But to divert to a slight degree, 
 do you not think, Mrs. Whiting, that the marital ills of today would 
 readily disappear if such a remedy could be applied?" 
 
 "I certainly do," she said, smiling sweetly. "And what is more," 
 she continued, "real wedded bliss becomes possible only when the 
 mind of the man grows greater every day and the soul of the woman 
 more beautiful." 
 
 "You have uttered one of the greatest truths of the ages, my 
 dear," Mr. Whiting replied as he came over and kissed her affection 
 ately. "And I know one woman," he added, "that has made that 
 truth a part of herself. If you wish to see her, I shall bring a mirror 
 at once." 
 
 "No, thank you; not just now. I would rather talk to Mr. Rear 
 don than look at my own face." 
 
 "Why, Mrs. Whiting," Melville Reardon exclaimed, "that is the 
 finest compliment that has ever been paid to me." 
 
 "It certainly has a rich and extravagant appearance," said Mr. 
 Whiting, "but if you knew how well Mrs. Whiting loves to talk, the 
 value of that compliment would depreciate quite a little." 
 
 "However that may be," replied Mr. Reardon, "I shall accept 
 it at its full face value. And I shall be most happy to prolong my 
 visit in order to listen to Mrs. Whiting, but I must say good-night." 
 
 "You remember what I said, Mr. Reardon, when you first came 
 here tonight," Mrs. Whiting began, as the full glory of her soul seemed 
 to reveal itself through her tender and brilliant countenance. 
 
 "Yes, I remember, Mrs. Whiting, and I shall never forget it, 
 even though there be no end to my conscious existence." 
 
 "Well, I wish to repeat it," she continued, "and with added em 
 phasis. And before you leave, may I ask you to be with us next 
 Wednesday evening? I want you to meet two exceptional people 
 with whom I have recently become acquainted; a young man and a 
 young woman; they don t know each other, but they will after Wednes 
 day evening. But that will not be all that they will know after that 
 evening. I mean to tell them something that they never heard of 
 before." 
 
 "That would be a foregone conclusion, Mrs. Whiting, no matter 
 whom you might invite. And I shall accept your invitation for that 
 evening with far more pleasure than I can possibly say. But, may 1 
 ask why those new-found friends are exceptional?" 
 
26 The Will and The Way 
 
 "That is a matter that cannot be explained. You will know 
 when you see them. Miss Mildred Kirkwood, the young woman, is 
 one of those rare souls that have all the admirable qualities that you 
 can think of except one the power to get what is due her. She is 
 simply giving her life away to everybody with whom she associates, 
 be it in the business world, among her friends, or at home." 
 
 "And she gets nine dollars a week for the privilege," interrupted 
 Mr. Whiting. 
 
 "She could marry the best man in the world," Mrs. Whiting 
 continued; "and the best man in the world would be in the greatest 
 luck to get her." 
 
 "Then why doesn t she find him and marry him?" asked Mr. 
 Reardon, trying to suppress a smile. 
 
 "She doesn t want to. That s the reason." 
 
 "She doesn t want to? In that case I can readily understand 
 why you call her exceptional." 
 
 "You misunderstand me, Mr. Reardon. She would like to, but 
 she doesn t want to." 
 
 "Why, what do you mean, Mrs. Whiting? You are becoming 
 mysterious." 
 
 "Not at all. 1 said she would like to, but she doesn t want to. 
 You know there is a difference. I am going to tell her the difference 
 next Wednesday evening. Then she will want to. And she will 
 not want to very long without getting a husband that is fully worthy 
 of such a superior girl." 
 
 "I shall be deeply interested to know the difference," replied 
 Melville Reardon, as he quietly thought to himself that he might at 
 the same time learn how to find her. 
 
 "And Emory Warren, the young man," continued Mrs. Whit 
 ing, "is one of those modern philosophers who knows perfectly how 
 to change the present order of human conditions, but does not know 
 how to change his own conditions. I am going to tell him something. 
 He is not satisfied with things as they are; nor do I think I should be 
 if I had to wear the same suit five seasons; though I should blame 
 myself first, and the present social order later on, if necessary. He 
 claims to be able to say exactly where all present systems are wrong, 
 and I admit his arguments are unanswerable as far as he goes. You 
 heard me say as far as he goes, did you not, Mr. Reardon?" 
 
 "I did, Mrs. Whiting, and I think I understand what you mean." 
 
 "But when he begins to talk to me, he will have to go farther. 
 That will change his mind. You always have to change your mind 
 when you go farther. And when he changes his mind, or, rather, 
 gets a new mind, he will soon have a new suit of clothes. Then things 
 as they are will look better. But he is certainly a remarkable young 
 man. His only fault seems to be that he is always wanting to give 
 medicine to others, the human race at large, but doesn t seem to 
 realize that he needs some of it himself." 
 
 "You have planned a most interesting evening for next week, 
 Mrs. Whiting, and 1 want to thank you again and again for the privi- 
 
The Will and The Way 27 
 
 lege to come. And now good night. Mr. Whiting, good-night, 
 your coming to see Mr. Spaulding today is to me nothing less than a 
 miracle." 
 
 The great day, the greatest day, by a thousand times, that Mr. 
 Reardon had ever seen was almost done, though not quite. One 
 more event, an event that would mean far more than he could pos 
 sibly have dreamed that night, was yet to transpire before he might 
 refresh his mind in sleep. 
 
 "Why, good evening, Mr. Reardon. This is a pleasure indeed." 
 
 "Good evening, Mrs. Arnold," he replied, rather coldly, as a 
 strong-minded widow of sixty summers entered the car and came 
 directly to seat herself beside him. 
 
 "You are looking better tonight than usual," she continued. 
 "Most of the time you look sad and tired, and, in fact, almost as if 
 you were sick. To tell you the truth, Mr. Reardon, I don t think 
 you are well. You either work too hard, or something. But you 
 almost look happy tonight; though I dare say you don t look that 
 way very often." 
 
 "No, not very often, Mrs. Arnold. And if you know something 
 about my life you would not be surprised at my usual seriousness, or 
 what many call half-sadness. There are times, however, when I am 
 very happy. Yes, there are times when my joy goes far beyond 
 anything that the average man or woman ever dreamed of. You 
 know, Mrs. Arnold, that I have not been satisfied; you know that I 
 am lonely; you know I have not accomplished what I have yearned 
 for so intensely and so long; you know that for certain reasons every 
 day has been a disappointment and my whole life a failure. You 
 know these things; you do not know the reason why, but you know 
 that I have had nothing in the visible world to give me happiness. 
 But, regardless of these facts, I have moments when my soul ascends 
 to spheres of joy, so gorgeously sublime that a million heavens com 
 bined as one would seem insignificant in comparison. And for those 
 moments I would not take all the wealth and all the fame in the 
 world." 
 
 "That must be very beautiful, Mr. Reardon." 
 
 "Yes, it is beautiful," he replied, thinking to himself how little 
 she understood what he was trying to convey, and wondering why 
 he so frequently told this woman so many things that he previously 
 did not intend to mention. 
 
 "But tell me," Mrs. Arnold resumed, "how do you account 
 for these experiences?" 
 
 "1 did not know until tonight. That and a score of other mys 
 teries have been solved for me tonight. Everything is changed now; 
 and that is why I look so different." 
 
 "And what has happened, Mr. Reardon? You will tell me all 
 about it, will you not? There are so few people in the car that no 
 one will hear it if you consider the matter purely personal." 
 
 "No, Mrs. Arnold, not tonight. I would not have sufficient 
 time. In a few minutes you will reach your destination." 
 
28" The Will and The Way 
 
 "That s true. Thank you for reminding me, for I have some 
 thing unusually important to say to you. 1 was going to send you a 
 note, but now I can present my message in person. You know 1 have 
 been thinking a great deal about you recently, and have taken such 
 a deep interest in your welfare. Yes, 1 have been interested in you 
 ever since 1 first met you at that dinner a month ago. And when 
 you told me last week about your being so lonely I made up my 
 mind that I would have you meet some nice girl as soon as possible. 
 And the very first girl 1 thought of was Miss Elviria Cameron. She 
 goes to our church and she is so sweet. Just the kind of a girl you 
 would like; young and pretty; splendid company, full of life, and 
 she has golden hair." 
 
 "Do you hear that, Mr. Reardon?" she continued, with a mean 
 ing expression in her eye, "deep blue eyes and golden hair." 
 
 "Yes, I hear everything you say, Mrs. Arnold," he replied, in 
 a voice that expressed anything but interest. 
 
 "I saw Miss Cameron today," she resumed, "and I asked her 
 to come to my house Friday night of next week. She will come in 
 the afternoon before it gets dark. You come later. And just think 
 of it, Mr. Reardon, you will have the opportunity to take her home. 
 Now remember the date. 1 have it all arranged for you. And I 
 know you will promise to come without fail." 
 
 Something within him seemed to say, "Don t go," and he had 
 a strong desire to refuse; nevertheless he told Mrs. Arnold he would 
 come, and thanked her most politely for her great kindness. 
 
 But as he retired that night he could not help asking himself 
 repeatedly why he had promised Mrs. Arnold against his will. And 
 he could not feel satisfied in the least with what he had done. After 
 such a wonderful day, and far more wonderful night, why should 
 this cloud come over his life when everything had been cleared so 
 perfectly? What did it mean? And what would be the result of 
 his meeting this fair maiden with the golden hair? As he thought of 
 her for a moment, a strange feeling came over him. Yes, he did 
 want to see her, and he was so grateful for the invitation. Then, 
 after a pause, something within him began to revolt; for some strange 
 reason he felt that he must not go to meet that girl. Yes, he should 
 have refused. But it was not too late. This was only Thursday night, 
 and the invitation was for Friday night of next week. He could easily 
 find an excuse and send word immediately in the morning. "No," 
 he finally declared, almost aloud, "I will stand by my promise, come 
 whatever may. I am ready to meet anything now and will positively 
 not hedge at a single circumstance that may come my way." 
 
 With this declaration, the cloud seemed to pass, and his mind 
 again was rejoicing over everything that had happened that day. 
 What a future was before him. And how supremely interesting it 
 would be to watch the development of everything in his life as that 
 future unfolded in its richness and glory. The thought of it all was 
 sweet indeed. Yes, now he could rest peacefully. But here was na 
 ture s opportunity. He was thinking of peace and rest. The door 
 
The Will and The Way 29 
 
 of the beautiful land of dreams was quietly opening before him; and 
 as he entered, nature smiled sweetly. Well might she smile and turn 
 her eyes to the heavens with gratitude and joy, for on that night she 
 had produced another man. 
 
 VI. 
 
 When Melville Reardon appeared at his work the morning after 
 that most wonderful day and still more wonderful night, he was 
 greeted in a manner that could not have been more gracious had he 
 been some highly honored guest. Richard Spaulding had arrived 
 much earlier than usual, and was anxiously waiting to learn what ex 
 ceptional information had been divulged at the home of the Whitings 
 the night before. 
 
 "Come into my office at once, won t you, please?" he began the 
 very moment he saw Mr. Reardon. "Now tell me all about it," he 
 continued as the door to his private sanctum was closed behind them. 
 "Excuse me for being in such a hurry," he went on as he offered Mr. 
 Reardon a chair directly in front of his own, "but I have several sig 
 nificant reasons. I believe some big things are going to happen here 
 today. I just had a most important telephone message. This calls 
 upon me to decide in a matter that requires extraordinary judgment. 
 But before I take that matter up I must know what you were told 
 last night. It is necessary that I should know before I can proceed 
 with the problem that I have just been requested to solve. And it 
 is especially necessary that I know something definite about Mr. Whit 
 ing. Kindly tell me just exactly what you think of him. You may 
 be surprised at my curiosity, but I have reasons, business reasons, 
 and the exact facts may mean much to you as well as to Mr. Whiting 
 and myself." 
 
 "My candid opinion is this," Mr. Reardon replied, "that Mr. 
 Whiting has no superior in the business world. He holds an excellent 
 position at present, but he is certainly able to fill one that is many 
 times as good. And he undoubtedly will secure something that is 
 much better very soon. His rise has been rapid since he became a 
 friend of Cyril Janos, and when you become acquainted with that 
 remarkable man and I would advise you to take steps in that direc 
 tion at once you will readily appreciate the reason why." 
 
 "So you really got something out of your visit, did you?" in 
 terrupted Mr. Spaulding. 
 
 "I certainly did. That man seems to know everything, and he 
 has promised to tell me all he knows." 
 
 "Well, now, you are in luck at last; and 1 am glad; but do you 
 know if his extraordinary knowledge is of practical value?" 
 
 "Yes, that is the beauty of it. It is all practical. And you may 
 think I am in luck to get it; but I have another name for that phe 
 nomenon." 
 
 "Very well, Mr. Reardon, but we shall not have time to discuss 
 
30 The Will and The Way 
 
 scientific terms just now. Tell me more about Mr. Whiting. What 
 does his present position pay, do you know?" 
 
 "Four years ago, at the time he first met Cyril Janos, he was 
 working for twenty-five dollars a week. His present position pays 
 him $12,000 a year. But according to my judgment he could easily 
 fill, full to the brim, a place that pays several times as much." 
 
 "You really think so?" Mr. Spaulding asked, excitedly. 
 
 "And why not? I just stated that he had no superior anywhere 
 in the business world. 1 came to that conclusion last night. You 
 would come to the same conclusion if you could enjoy an hour of 
 intimate conversation with him. But my judgment is not the only 
 source of information that I possess on that subject. I met the presi 
 dent of the firm this morning with which Mr. Whiting is connected." 
 
 "You did accidentally, or how? and what did he tell you?" 
 
 "You would call it accidentally, a mere coincidence, but that 
 is another phenomenon for which I have found a new name." 
 
 "There now, never mind your new names. What did he say 
 about Mr. Whiting?" 
 
 "He said that Mr. Whiting was a marvel, especially in executive 
 ability and in his wonderful control over men. He said that there 
 were over a thousand men, nearly all nationalities represented, work 
 ing at his factory, and there was not one of those men that would 
 not do anything Mr. Whiting wanted done. The order and harmony 
 in that establishment had been practically perfect, he said, since Mr. 
 Whiting had taken charge, about a year ago, and he added, with 
 deep satisfaction, that the profits of the concern had, during the 
 same period, been twenty-five per cent greater than any similar length 
 of time in the past." 
 
 "But I am happy to hear that," declared Mr. Spaulding, in a 
 tone wherein excited interest was strangely blended with the keenest 
 delight. "Your meeting that man this morning may solve my prob 
 lem," he continued, "but how did it happen if it was a coincident 
 and not a coincident?" 
 
 "The man simply came up and spoke to me at the elevated 
 station as we were waiting for the train. You know I am extremely 
 happy this morning, and I suppose I showed it very distinctly. The 
 first thing he said to me was, What is the secret, young man, of that 
 wholesome, inspiring smile? But I tell you, he continued after a 
 slight pause, it does a man good to see a smile like that. I wish I 
 could get it; though I ought to, as I see it every day. The manager 
 of our factory, Mr. Whiting, uses that brand altogether/ I then told 
 him that 1 had met Mr. Whiting twice, and without me asking a single 
 question he volunteered all the information I might have desired 
 concerning what he was pleased to call the greatest marvel in the 
 business world today. As we parted he concluded by stating that 
 he, himself, did not feel much like smiling, as Mr. Whiting was far 
 too big a man for his present position, and would naturally find op 
 portunities higher up before long." 
 
 Well, if all of this is not too funny. You discovered accident- 
 
The Will and The Way 1 
 
 ally this morning, or whatever you may call it, the very thing I wanted 
 to know after receiving that telephone message. Strange, very strange, 
 indeed. But can you tell me where to reach that man by telephone? 
 I must speak to him at once." 
 
 "Yes, here is his business card. I don t know why he gave it 
 to me, but he did nevertheless." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Reardon, thank you ten thousand times. You 
 have rendered me a great service, and some day soon I shall be most 
 happy to have the privilege to do something special for you. And 
 now go to your work for a few minutes while I call up this man. 
 When I am through I will want you to come in again and tell me 
 everything about your wonderful experience last night." 
 
 "I shall be ready to tell you everything whenever you want me, 
 Mr. Spaulding, though I do not see how it would be possible for you 
 to enjoy hearing about it as much as I shall enjoy telling about it," 
 said Melville Reardon as he smilingly left the room. He went directly 
 to his desk, but he had scarcely been seated when he was approached 
 by a somewhat ordinary looking man holding a large newspaper clip 
 ping in his hand. "Is this your advertisement?" he asked, excitedly. 
 
 "It is," replied Mr. Reardon. 
 
 "Then give me particulars," he demanded in a voice that re 
 vealed a fair degree of intelligence and feeling incoherently blended 
 with a large degree of crudeness. 
 
 The particulars were promptly handed to him in the form of 
 an assortment of attractive-looking printed matter. 
 
 "You know my youngest brother died a short time ago," he 
 went on as he was hurriedly glancing over this "special information" 
 on "where to invest your surplus earnings," "and he was insured. 
 That s how we happen to have some ready cash to invest just now." 
 
 "But I m sorry to hear that," Mr. Reardon replied, sympathetic 
 ally, "especially since he was the youngest. Young people should 
 live. I like to see them have a chance first to get something out of 
 life, or at least to prove that they had something in them some 
 thing that was worth much, even though it did not last long." 
 
 "You are right in that," the stranger replied, slowly and medi 
 tatively, "but it finally happened as we expected." 
 
 "Was he sick long?" 
 
 "No, only a few weeks this time, but he was down seriously 
 for many months when he was about six. Mother said at that time 
 that he couldn t live, and even after he got well she insisted that his 
 life would be short. 1 don t know why she thought so, but we all 
 somehow got to thinking the same. There were eight of us in the 
 family, and all of us got to feeling more and more that little brother 
 wouldn t be with us very long. That s why we had him insured, 
 though we really couldn t afford it." 
 
 "How old was he when he died?" 
 
 "About twenty." 
 
 "So it took fourteen years for your expectations to come true? * 
 
 "Yes, fourteen years." 
 
32 The Will and The Way 
 
 "Did he also think that his life would be short?" 
 
 "Oh, certainly. Our fears for his life were often talked about 
 in the family. And whenever he would get a cold or something, 
 mother would tell him to get ready to meet his Maker. She seemed 
 to think that every time he didn t feel quite right the end was near. 
 But he hung on for quite a while; though he went at last just as we 
 all expected." 
 
 "The whole family, then, sort of lived constantly in the fear of 
 his death." 
 
 "Yes, that s true." 
 
 "Did you, or any member of the family, ever read the Bible?" 
 
 "I should say so; every day; most surely, we are all regular 
 church members, and in the best of standing." 
 
 "And do you remember of ever reading somewhere in that 
 book about the thing I feared has come upon me?" 
 
 "I have read it many times. But what do you mean by asking 
 me that?" 
 
 "Think a while, and you will know." 
 
 "You don t mean to say that that boy died because we all feared 
 it, do you?" 
 
 "My friend, I am only quoting scripture. Though I am inclined 
 to think that if the whole family had spent fourteen years expecting 
 that boy to live a long, healthful life, you would not have had any 
 insurance money to invest today." 
 
 "1 think I understand," he said, slowly, his eyes gazing into 
 empty space, while his depressed countenance revealed the troubled 
 efforts of his mind trying to grasp some unknown something that 
 seemed within his reach and yet beyond him. "We all made a mis 
 take," he continued, after a few moments of painful endeavor to 
 suppress the tears; "it is dawning upon me now it was all wrong 
 we scared him to his grave the dear boy he should have lived 
 he might have lived but we didn t know it was all wrong." 
 
 "Thank you," he exclaimed, extending his hand to Mr. Rear- 
 don, "for telling me this." And almost choking with emotion, he 
 concluded, as he turned to leave, "We will not do it again if we 
 had only known it before but we will not no, we will not " 
 
 He was gone, but the deep impression that his brief visit had 
 made upon the mind of Melville Reardon was destined to remain. 
 
 "Why did I speak to the man like that?" Mr. Reardon mused 
 to himself. "I never thought of that ancient statement of Job before 
 as having that particular meaning. But it is clear to me now that 
 that is what it means. What we fear comes; what we don t fear 
 doesn t come, can t come. Strange doctrine surely, but I can think 
 of hundreds of incidents in my life and my observations that prove 
 it. But I wonder what I am going to find out next?" 
 
 He had barely finished this brief meditation when Mr. Spaulding 
 again called him to his private office, and he responded instantly, with 
 a new joy in his heart. 
 
 "I reached him all right," Mr. Spaulding began, his face lit up 
 
The Will and The Way 33 
 
 with the sunshine of real, whole-souled satisfaction. "And he gave 
 me all the information I wanted," he continued, "not suspecting my 
 object. But you know the best place must have the best man, and 
 the smaller must not complain when it loses that which is ready for 
 the larger. You will understand after a while, Mr. Reardon, what I 
 mean. And now tell me what you learned last night, but kindly 
 omit the details for the present. I called up Mr. Whiting also. He 
 will be here in about thirty minutes. I have a matter of great im 
 portance to discuss with him, and by first knowing something about 
 these ideas through which he has become so remarkably successful, 
 I shall be in a better position to properly place my questions.* 
 
 The thirty minutes proved far too short for such an important 
 report; but Mr. Spaulding gained sufficient for the object he had in 
 view. And he also gained such a deep interest in what he termed 
 the "Janos Philosophy" that he resolved to go and secure every fact 
 known to that remarkable scientist, no matter what the cost might be. 
 
 "My problem is solved," he declared with enthusiasm, as he 
 noted that the time for Mr. Whiting s arrival was almost at hand. 
 "And now I am going to prove to myself," he said, as he arose and 
 placed his hand affectionately upon Mr. Reardon s shoulder, "that 
 my solution is most happy. You will be interested to know what it 
 is, my good friend you have been a real good friend to me today, 
 and I want you to remain right here during my interview with Mr. 
 Whiting. In fact, no one deserves more than you to know the inside 
 facts in this case, as it was your out of the ordinary* smile at the ele 
 vated station this morning that has made possible what is going to 
 happen now." 
 
 VII. 
 
 The thirty minutes had passed, and Mr. Spaulding was informed 
 that a splendid-looking gentleman was waiting to see him. "Come 
 right in, Mr. Whiting," he said, as he stepped to the door and gave 
 his distinguished visitor a handshake that would have quailed an or 
 dinary mortal. "You are the one man that is wanted here today," 
 he continued, with a smile that was almost like that particular brand 
 that had been mentioned an hour or two before. 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Spaulding; no greater honor can man receive 
 from man than what you have just conferred upon me," said Mr. 
 Whiting, in that strong, quiet tone that seemed to cause even the ele 
 ments of the atmosphere to stop and listen. "To be wanted," he 
 resumed, with added emphasis, "is the greatest privilege of all; you 
 can therefore imagine my appreciation of the manner in which I have 
 just been received." 
 
 "The honor, the privilege and the appreciation is even greater 
 on our side, Mr. Whiting, I assure you; but be seated; we have somer 
 thing of exceptional importance to discuss with you, and it is a matter 
 that does not permit of delay." 
 
34 The Will and The Way 
 
 "1 am at your service, Mr. Spaulding, and shall apply my best 
 efforts in directing the issue before us toward a successful termina 
 tion." 
 
 "Then we shall proceed at once. And, to begin, Mr. Whiting, 
 may I ask of you a number of personal questions?" 
 
 "You may ask me anything you like. And though I am not ego 
 tistical, still I feel I can truthfully say that if you cross-examine me 
 closely you will find a few things in my experience that are worth 
 finding. Not that 1 discovered the ideas that originated those experi 
 ences; others did that; but it has been my privilege to prove those 
 ideas to be true." 
 
 "Therefore, Mr. Whiting, it is your privilege to feel proud, very 
 proud indeed. The man who has done something worth while should 
 not be called upon to designate himself as y ur humble servant. 
 Let us be done with the word humble* as well as the attitude which it 
 represents. The majesty of the universe calls upon man to look up, 
 not down. And it is my conviction that the man of great deeds not 
 only may, but must, give himself full credit. If he does not, he is 
 dealing unjustly with those precious faculties that he has received from 
 nature and from nature s God. He who declares that he is nothing 
 also declares that his creator is nothing. Despise effect and you despise 
 cause. But which is the greater, the man who discovers or the man 
 who demonstrates, is one of those questions that has no answer; 
 personally, however, I am very fond of the man who demonstrates. 
 To him who can prove the truth to him will I bow in reverence any 
 time and anywhere." 
 
 "Most excellently stated, Mr. Spaulding. Thus far your ideas are 
 thoroughbreds in every sense of the term. And if your other ideas 
 belong to the same superior class, you are already within the boundary 
 line of that philosophy into which Mr. Reardon was initiated last 
 night." 
 
 "Most of them are, I think; and in that case my initiation will 
 come easy. But that is another matter. What I want to know now, 
 Mr. Whiting, is what methods you have employed in attaining such a 
 remarkable degree of success both in your work and in yourself. 1 
 have inquired about you somewhat extensively, not for curiosity, but 
 for business reasons; I will explain these reasons shortly; and 1 have 
 secured facts concerning you that are simply astounding. 1 want to 
 know your secret. How did you begin? How did you proceed after 
 you actually had begun? And how did you reach your present posi 
 tion? Kindly tell me as briefly as you can and as concisely as you 
 can. You will confer a great favor upon me, and several others, by so 
 doing. And please remember that I am just as interested to know 
 how you gained your present personal worth as how you gained your 
 ability and power in the commercial world. You have not only be 
 come successful in your vocation, but also in your life; while you 
 have been increasing your salary you have also been increasing your 
 manhood and your finer personal qualities; for every dollar you have 
 added to your bank account you have added several to the riches of 
 
The Will and The Way 35 
 
 your mind and soul. And let me tell you, Mr. Whiting, there are few 
 such men." 
 
 "Your appreciation, Mr. Spaulding, is extraordinary, indeed, but 
 my gratitude is far greater, whether you think such be possible or not. 
 However, I shall not express my feelings in this matter; first, because 
 they are too deep for verbal expression; and second, because I am 
 here to answer your questions. And this I shall do with the greatest 
 of pleasure." 
 
 "Yes, tell us, Mr. Whiting, how you began; what happened first 
 as you emerged from that twenty-five-dollar-a-week sphere of exist 
 ence?" 
 
 "To answer that I should have to tell you first about my wife. I 
 owe the change for the better exclusively to her; not for what she had 
 done, but for what she had failed to do. When I married her she 
 was in very poor health; in fact, she had been almost an invalid for 
 years. That is how I happened to win her. If she had been well she 
 would not have married an ordinary man like I was at the time. 
 She was so brilliant in mind and so beautiful in soul that had she had 
 physical health and personal attractions to correspond, she could 
 have married her choice from the best men in the world. But the best 
 men in the world are not looking for sick girls." 
 
 "Nevertheless, she won the best man in the world without know 
 ing it at the time," interrupted Mr. Reardon. "Though she knows 
 it now," he added, with assuring emphasis. 
 
 "Again I should be happy to fully express my appreciation," 
 continued Mr. Whiting, "but again it is too deep for verbal expression. 
 I will therefore go on with my narrative. I married when I was twenty- 
 nine; she was but a few days younger than I, though my mind, com 
 pared with hers, was an infant. I was not specially ambitious. I had 
 a fair degree of ability, but used only a small fraction of it, having 
 no particular aim in life and no real desire to do more than what was 
 necessary to earn a comfortable living. I had physical strength, but 
 my personality was weak and somewhat crude." 
 
 "And to think that you now are what you are," exclaimed Mr. 
 Spaulding, "the most refined and highly polished personality I ever 
 saw, and with a personal power that could hold an audience of a 
 million in a breathless spell of adoration and awe. Wonderful! Won 
 derful! But go on, please go on." 
 
 "Immediately after our marriage I began to see what could be 
 done to restore my wife to perfect health. But there seemed to be 
 nothing that could be done. She had tried everything; that is, she 
 thought she had, all to no effect. I therefore began to feel more and 
 more that there was no help, and was almost on the verge of reconciling 
 myself to her pitiful condition. Then something happened. During 
 the first year of our marriage her condition remained unchanged ; she 
 got neither better nor worse; but at the beginning of the second year 
 she began to get worse. And that was the beginning of the change^ 
 I began to realize that I might lose her; and as I thought of what 
 such a loss might mean to me I began to look at her in a manner that 
 
36 The Will and The Way 
 
 I had not been conscious of before. Gradually it dawned upon me that 
 I had a most precious jewel. I had always thought of her as an ex 
 traordinary woman, but now I began to see that she could possibly not 
 have an equal anywhere in the world. And should such a woman die? 
 I declared, "No! a million times no! and for the first time my soul was 
 really alive. There were two things to be done. I must find some 
 thing to make her well, and I must do something to get a better posi 
 tion, so that her needs could be properly provided for. I then had two 
 ambitions, two ruling desires, while previous to that I had none." 
 
 "There is where the power of persistent desire began its work, did 
 it not?" inquired Mr. Reardon. 
 
 "Yes, there is where it began; and from that moment those two 
 desires the desire to find something to make her well and the desire 
 to secure a better position for myself became stronger and stronger 
 until they seemed to dominate every thought, every action, and the 
 very life of every atom in my being. Hundreds of times every day 
 I would say to myself: 1 must find something to make her well, 
 there must be a way, and I am determined to find it. 1 would express 
 myself in a similar manner concerning a better position, and I dis 
 covered that the more I thought of realizing those two desires, the 
 more power and persistence they seemed to gain. This would increase 
 my faith in myself, and it was not many weeks before I began to believe 
 that I actually would find what I sought. In about four months my 
 expectations were realized. One evening I purchased a paper having 
 the opposite political complexion to the one I was accustomed to read. 
 That was something 1 had not done in several years. Why I should 
 buy that paper that evening I shall not venture to explain; though 1 
 have an idea; we may discuss that some other time; but I bought that 
 paper, and it contained what I wanted to know. I put it in my pocket, 
 and when I reached home I gave it to my wife, not having read a word 
 in it myself. She opened it and turned at once to the editorial page, 
 something she had never done before, it being her custom invariably 
 to begin with the first page and read right on to the last. The first 
 thing she saw was a small paragraph, down in the lower right-hand 
 corner, and the title was A Remarkable Cure. The paragraph went 
 on to say that a certain woman had been cured by the use of a strange 
 power awakened in her own system. It gave the name and address 
 of the woman and a few general, unintelligible statements concerning 
 that power. That was all. But I lost no time. Within twenty minutes 
 I was having an interview with that woman. She told me that it was 
 the Janos Philosophy that had made her well, and gave me the ad 
 dress of that remarkable man." 
 
 "But if that doesn t sound mysterious from beginning to end," ex 
 claimed Mr. Spaulding; "but I must admit that it is fascinating beyond 
 anything I ever heard." 
 
 "Yes, it sounds mysterious; but it happened ; and it was the means 
 through which the power of my persistent desire realized its object in 
 view. Besides, hundreds of such events are taking place in every 
 community every day; and when we stop to think about them we find 
 
The Will and The Way 37 
 
 that they are not any more mysterious than the fact that you can hear 
 the sound of my voice." 
 
 "You are right, Mr. Whiting. Everything is mysterious; and from 
 a certain point of view everything is weird. Though it is also a fact 
 that the more mysterious a thing seems to be at first sight, the simpler 
 it becomes when we understand it. The answer being, I suppose, that 
 such things lie closer to first principles, and those first principles, the 
 foundation of things, are naturally the very essence of simplicity." 
 
 "That explains it perfectly, Mr. Spaulding; and I cannot tell you 
 how happy I am to know that your mind also finds delight in going 
 down to rock bottom." 
 
 "Yes, I think I have some real ideas, not counterfeits or cheap 
 imitations; but I have not learned how to turn them all to practical 
 use. There is where you have succeeded so admirably, Mr. Whiting; 
 and if you are through with your preliminary narrative, I wish to ask 
 you how you began to apply that new philosophy. What did you 
 do first, second, third, fourth, and so on?" 
 
 "Yes, I am through with the first chapter of my narrative, except 
 to add that Mrs. Whiting and myself began the very next day to 
 study the Janos Philosophy. She began to improve in health from 
 the very beginning, and was entirely well in less than five months. 
 A few weeks later I secured a new position with twice the salary I 
 received before. That was three years and a half ago. What has 
 happened since would fill a book." 
 
 "And it would read like the most fascinating of fiction, I am 
 sure," said Mr. Reardon. 
 
 "Yes, it would to me, because I know that it is all true; and the 
 nearer you get to truth the easier it is to outdo fiction, both as to 
 mysteriousness and fascination. But you are waiting, Mr. Spaulding, 
 for an answer to your question." 
 
 "Yes, I am waiting with measured breath, and I shall be more 
 deeply interested in your answer than anything I have ever heard. 
 My reason is that the ideas back of your answer have produced such 
 extraordinary results; and with me it is results that count." 
 
 "There were several things," continued Mr. Whiting, "that I 
 undertook to do first; and one of them was to train myself to be 
 strong and quiet on the inner side! of my personality." 
 
 "And what do you mean by the inner side?" 
 
 "Everything that is not on the surface. The actual and vital 
 contents of your system, both personal and mental. Or, everything 
 that you feel in your nature when you feel deeply." 
 
 "I understand; but what was your object in doing this, and how 
 did you proceed?" 
 
 "I tried to combine the feeling of all the strength I could realize 
 with the feeling of the deepest calm I could realize. The object was 
 to gain personal power, and to gain perfect control over that power." 
 
 "Is this the only method you have employed in building up your 
 personal power to such an astonishing degree?" 
 
38 The Will and The Way 
 
 "What personal power I have I have gained principally through 
 this method." 
 
 "In that case it needs no further recommendation. Because, 
 when it comes to personal power, both in quantity and in quality, 
 you tower mountains above anyone I ever saw. Mr. Whiting, every 
 movement you make is a movement of authority and power. Your 
 very attitude is a command ; and when you speak there is something 
 in your tone that makes me feel as if it were not only a sacred duty 
 but a great privilege to obey. And yet, you do not seem to make the 
 slightest effort to influence or control anybody." 
 
 "That is the truth, Mr. Spaulding. I never try to control anybody; 
 I would lose my power if 1 should; I simply control myself. And 
 this comes naturally when the art of being strong and calm at the same 
 time is constantly cultivated." 
 
 "But how do you proceed to combine those two attitudes? Is 
 there any special easy method?" 
 
 "There is no special method, to my knowledge. And I never 
 found it necessary to inquire about such a method. I secured the 
 results I desired by simply beginning, as far as 1 could, to be quiet 
 and strong in my deeper feelings, and then continuing as I had be 
 gun." 
 
 "Is that all there is to it?" 
 
 "Practically so. I made it a point to feel strong and quiet 
 constantly, and to feel the combined actions of those two feelings as 
 deeply as possible. I try to live in an attitude that combines calmness 
 and strength; I try to do all my work in that attitude, and several 
 times a day I give a few moments to the further cultivation of tKat 
 attitude. Continued efforts in trying to feel very strong and deeply 
 quiet at the same time will train the system to build up that at 
 titude. Then it becomes second nature, an acquired state, a newly 
 developed power." 
 
 "1 is a matter of making up your mind what you want to do, 
 and then making up your mind to continue to do what you originally 
 made up your mind to do." 
 
 "You have stated the simple fact, Mr. Spaulding, both wisely 
 and well." 
 
 "Yes, it is quite clear to me, and I can readily understand how 
 this attitude could be cultivated to such a degree that its possibilities 
 would be nothing less than marvelous. But what were the other 
 things, Mr. Whiting, that you undertook to do first?" 
 
 "I began to build up my ambition for what I wanted to accom 
 plish in life. And I selected that ambition that produced the deepest 
 impression upon my mind and the keenest delight in my heart when 1 
 thought of it. Though I did not make my choice until 1 had turned the 
 matter over in my mind, consciously and subconsciously, for several 
 weeks." 
 
 "And what was your choice, Mr. Whiting?" 
 
 "To become the manager of a great concern; to guide men not 
 to control men but to guide men in their work. And every position 
 
The Will and The Way 39 
 
 I have held since I began to advance has given me the privilege to 
 exercise this ambition." 
 
 "But how do you account for the fact that your ability to carry 
 out this ambition has steadily developed? Is there some other method 
 through which this has been done?" 
 
 "When you become more and more ambitious to do a certain 
 thing, the force of that ambition will steadily increase the power and 
 the working capacity of those faculties that are naturally called into 
 action as you proceed to carry out that ambition." 
 
 "I understand. If I should become more and more ambitious 
 to become a great musician, the force of that ambition would tend to 
 develop the musical faculties." 
 
 "Precisely; but results would depend largely upon how well you 
 had cultivated the deeply calm attitude. The greatest forces in the 
 universe move in absolute stillness, and it is only the force that is still 
 that has the power to build." 
 
 "Your ideas are most excellent, Mr. Whiting. You certainly 
 have the rock bottom of things as your foundation. But kindly pro 
 ceed." 
 
 "The power of persistent desire was the third factor that I began 
 to employ at the very beginning; and with this I combined the atti 
 tude of positive expectation. I would desire constantly and persistent 
 ly whatever I wanted; then I would expect to receive what I wanted. 
 But my expectation was never passive; it was always active in the 
 fullest and most positive sense. Another important factor was what 
 I am pleased to call constructive optimism." 
 
 "That s new, but it has the right ring. Kindly explain it, won t 
 you please?" 
 
 "The constructive optimist incessantly declares that everything 
 is coming out all right, and is constantly at work with might and 
 main to make his prediction come true." 
 
 "Splendid, indeed. If that is optimism, then I am every inch 
 an optimist. And I can readily understand that such an optimism 
 would have the same effect upon a man s career as a propeller would 
 have upon a ship. As long as that optimism was in action the move 
 ment would be forward regardless of the waves and the storm." 
 
 "Yes, that is the truth in every instance, and there are no ex 
 ceptions whatever. But now, Mr. Spaulding, I am going to sum up 
 those several things that I undertook to do first. So if you have further 
 questions, kindly get them ready. My final step in this first move 
 ment toward better things was to become an uncompromising idealist. 
 I began to use all the forces of thought and imagination in working 
 up to my ideal, and I began to train all my faculties to focus their 
 activities upon that goal I had in view; and I am now convinced that 
 every element in my being is working for me, working with me, helping 
 me to press on and on toward everything that I am determined to 
 reach." 
 
 "That is the greatest secret of all, is it not, Mr. Whiting?" 
 
 "Which might be the greatest is difficult to say, because they are 
 
40 The Will and The Way 
 
 all necessary; but one thing is certain, when everything that is in you 
 is working for the same purpose that you are working for, that purpose 
 will be fulfilled. When all of you is with you, no obstacle is great 
 enough to stand in your way." 
 
 "The more you say, Mr. Whiiting, the more convinced I become 
 that you have the kernel, the very thing we all want. Your ideas 
 are as sound as the principles of mathematics, and it is my conviction 
 that those ideas will solve all our problems when we begin to apply 
 them as you are doing. I could ask you a thousand questions this 
 minute, but I shall not take up any more of your time just now. You 
 have said many times as much as would have been necessary to con 
 vince me of your fitness for a certain important position, that I shall 
 now take the pleasure to offer you, and 1 am fully satisfied that you can 
 fill that position with greater efficiency than any other man that could 
 be found." 
 
 "Mr. Spaulding, your kindness is great indeed, and I assure you 
 that a kindness shown to me is never forgotten." 
 
 "I believe everything you say, Mr. Whiting, and now I am 
 going to tell you what this interview has been all about. One of my 
 best friends is president of a large manufacturing concern in this city. 
 For certain reasons, the details of which we shall not discuss just now, 
 the manager resigned. There are several men under consideration 
 for the vacancy, but they are hardly big enough for the place. My 
 friend telephoned to me this morning, and asked my assistance in 
 finding a good man, and he said that they would accept without further 
 question any man that I might recommend. And I thought of you, 
 Mr. Whiting, at once. Though I knew nothing about you this morn 
 ing, except what I saw and heard of you while you were in here 
 yesterday, still I resolved that I would investigate your fitness for the 
 place before I even thought of anyone else. Now I know enough about 
 you to give you a stronger recommendation than I could give to any 
 other man I ever knew. That position is for you, Mr. Whiting, and I 
 shall be happy indeed if you will accept it. There are over six 
 thousand men employed in the main factory, and there are nearly 
 half as many more in the branch factories. All of these would come 
 under your supervision. The salary is $40,000 a year." 
 
 "Mr. Spaulding, words cannot thank you for this, but actions 
 speak more eloquently than words. And my actions will speak just 
 exactly as I feel. I will accept the position, and may the day come 
 quickly when I shall have the opportunity to return the favor." 
 
 The three men parted, all going to their respective duties, and all 
 realizing that big things had happened there that day, as expected. 
 They were all happy, suremely so; to each one of them the future 
 looked brighter than ever before; they felt equal to anything now; 
 and it was well, for little did they dream what another week would 
 bring forth. 
 
The Will and The Way 41 
 
 VIII 
 
 All was happiness and good cheer at the home of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Whiting. It was Wednesday evening. The evening Mildred Kirkwood 
 had waited for; the evening Emory Warren had waited for; the even 
 ing Melville Reardon had waited for; they all expected to hear 
 something that evening that would make life s pathway more rosy. 
 They knew they would not be disappointed in this respect, and, 
 therefore, they had looked forward to this special event with more 
 than usual pleasure. What had been accomplished in this exceptional 
 home was not a secret; what was to be said there that evening would 
 not be theory. And these three young people, though they were far 
 superior to the many in some ways, were quite similar to the many in 
 other ways. Accordingly they came with expectant souls, attentive 
 minds and open hearts, for all the world is ready to listen when they 
 who have had results begin to speak. When we can truthfully say, 
 "One thing I know, that, whereas, I was blind, now I see," the ma 
 jority are willing, yes, and anxious, to come almost any distance to 
 learn how it was done. 
 
 The last one to arrive was Emory Warren; possibly because 
 he expected the least; he seldom expected anything, and usually re 
 ceived less. He knew, however, what Mrs. Whiting had accomplished 
 in gaining health, happiness and almost unmatchable loveliness, and 
 he had read a few days before about Mr. Whiting entering upon the 
 duties of his new position; he was therefore half convinced that those 
 people knew something worth while, and he had permitted a gentle 
 ray of hope to dispel some of the dark clouds of pessimism from his 
 own mind. In fact, he was on the verge of being converted before he 
 came, though his left hand was holding fast to his preconceived views 
 with an iron grip, while his right hand was aimlessly groping in the 
 world of uncertainty for something better. 
 
 "You are indeed to be congratulated, Mr. Whiting, for the great 
 good fortune that has come to you," Emory Warren began, as all 
 formalities had been dispensed with, and everybody was comfortably 
 seated in one of the most delightful home atmosphere in the world. 
 "You were surely in luck to get that place," he continued, "if there is 
 such a thing." 
 
 "No," replied Mr. Whiting, "there is no such thing as luck. That 
 word can only be employed as a synonym for good fortune that has 
 come through enterprise and merit." 
 
 "But how do you then account for the good fortune that comes 
 to those who have neither enterprise nor merit?" inquired Mr. Warren. 
 
 "In the first place, such a fortune can hardly be designated as 
 good; and it can come only through one of two channels, heredity or 
 illegitimate gain. With the latter we want nothing to do, and with the 
 former we are not concerned, because we are here to make our own 
 way regardless of what was done by those who went before." 
 
 "Yes, that is sound doctrine as far as it goes; it does not explain, 
 however, how you happened to be singled out for that lucrative posi* 
 tion." 
 
42 The Will and The Way 
 
 "Kindly permit me to say a word in that connection," interrupted 
 Mr. Reardon. "1 happen to know the circumstances. Mr. Spaulding 
 was so deeply impressed with Mr. Whiting that when he learned of 
 that vacancy he refused to consider anyone else until he had investi 
 gated the fitness of Mr. Whiting thoroughly. But why was he im 
 pressed? What is there in Mr. Whiting that produced such an in 
 delible impression upon the mind of Mr. Spaulding? We may not be 
 able to clearly define that something; but Mr. Whiting has it, and it 
 took him four years of the most rigid discipline to get it. But it was 
 discipline along lines that finally must produce results." 
 
 "You have only answered my question in part," replied Mr. 
 Warren, rather skeptically. "You have failed to say how Mr. Whiting 
 happened to come in personal contact with that opportunity. There 
 are plenty of able men in the world, but there are very few of them 
 that ever have a fair chance." 
 
 "That is a very large subject," Mr. Whiting began, as his coun 
 tenance gave expression to that comfortable satisfaction that knows 
 the answer even before the question is placed. "But if we take the 
 time, I can convince you," he continued in that deep, masterful tone 
 that invariably inspired breathless attention in everybody, "that those 
 men of ability who never have a fair chance have no one but them 
 selves to blame. They may have ability, but they fail to produce a 
 channel for that ability." 
 
 "Sound doctrine again, as far as you go; but how can a man 
 produce a channel for his ability when he never gets an opportunity 
 to do so?" 
 
 "Call for opportunity, loud and long, and it will finally come. 
 No person ever failed to get the opportunity he desired, but the ma 
 jority failed to make good when the opportunity arrives. Point out 
 to me a single worthy man who never had an opportunity, and I will 
 point out to you a thousand men who have scores of opportunities 
 every day, but they are unable to comply with requirements. They 
 have only desired the opportunity; they have not desired that power 
 in themselves that can produce results in the workshop of opportunity. 
 Opportunity is constantly knocking at every man s door; but she is 
 not simply calling for men; she is calling for men who are competent 
 to do what she needs must have done." 
 
 "That reminds me of a certain young girl," Mrs. Whiting began, 
 smiling with the radiant sweetness of a sunbeam. "This girl fell in 
 love with an admirable young man, and he fell in love with her. He 
 was by far the finest young man she had ever met, and he confessed 
 later that he would have married her without fail had she not spoiled 
 it all. She was very bright, very sweet and in every way a splendid 
 woman. She was very much interested in her lover, but she was not 
 interested in his work, his life, his ambitions, his dreams. At any rate, 
 he made no attempt to enter into that greater world of achievement 
 that he was trying to conquer; in that world he was alone; but he 
 would not have been alone if she had given an occasional word of 
 sympathy, appreciation or encouragement, or had asked questions at 
 
The Will and The Way 43 
 
 times about those greater things to which he had devoted his life and 
 power. She had an opportunity; the one opportunity she had been 
 praying for all her life; but when it came she was found wanting." 
 
 "Now, Mrs. Whiting, you are touching upon a delicate subject," 
 ventured Miss Kirkwood, her quiet, modest way tinctured with an 
 undercurrent of enthusiasm. "And I must confess," she added, as her 
 face reddened quite a little more than was comfortable, "that it is a 
 subject in which I am deeply interested." 
 
 "You would not be a real girl if you were not," smiled Mrs. 
 Whiting. "But there must be a deficiency somewhere in your interest, 
 or you would have been married long ago. Superior girls like your 
 self need not be single, have no right to be single." 
 
 "Thank you, Mrs. Whiting, for your lofty estimation of me, but 
 I am sure I don t know what the matter can be. If you know, my 
 gratitude to you shall be both limitless and endless if you will tell me." 
 
 "Yes, I do know, and I invited you here specially tonight so I 
 might have the opportunity to tell you." 
 
 "And before these men?" 
 
 "Yes, because Mr. Reardon and Mr. Warren are just as much in 
 need of this information as you are." 
 
 "Very well then, Mrs. Whiting, go on and tell me what is 
 wrong." 
 
 "In the first place, you don t want to get married." 
 
 "Why, Mrs. Whiting, it has been the dearest wish of my heart 
 ever since I was a little girl." 
 
 "It might have been a very dear wish, but I dare say, Mildred, 
 it was never a very strong wish." 
 
 "No, you are quite right there." 
 
 "It never stirred your soul, did it?" 
 
 "No, I think not." 
 
 "It was very sweet, but so weak. Just a pretty dream with just 
 enough life to keep alive. Just a passing fancy without sufficient 
 force even to rustle a tiny leaf. Am I right, Mildred?" 
 
 "You certainly are, Mrs. Whiting." 
 
 "Then you cannot truthfully say that you want to get married. 
 When you want to do a thing you will not merely dream sweetly; 
 you will be up and bestir yourself; every atom in your being will be 
 alive, ready for action, and your soul will be on fire with the resolute 
 power of your desire." 
 
 "And do you mean," Mr. Warren inquired, "that a girl must 
 turn loose a sort of sledgehammer force and become a strenuous 
 hustler if she wishes to get married?" 
 
 "Not in the least," Mrs. Whiting continued, laughingly. "No 
 crude force and no crude methods must be employed. But when 
 you begin to want to do what you want to do, you are placing in 
 action one of the strongest and one of the most highly refined forced \n 
 existence." 
 
 "Yes, I see your idea there, Mrs. Whiting, and I agree with you; 
 
44 The Will and The Way 
 
 but how is a person to proceed in the wanting of a thing so that it will 
 be a real want and not merely a passive wish?" 
 
 "When you want a thing you want it with all that is in you, and 
 you want it every minute. Every thought you think calls for that one 
 thing, and every feeling in your life is a heart-felt desire for that one 
 thing." 
 
 "Dou you believe," Mr. Reardon, inquired, "that a person will 
 finally get what he wants providing his wants are deep, strong and 
 continuous in the sense that you imply?" 
 
 "I positively do," Mrs. Whiting replied, as her eyes flashed 
 with the light of convincing emphasis. 
 
 "Then will you kindly explain to me why a number of people 
 continue to want things all their lives but never get them?" 
 
 "Yes, they seem to want certain things all their lives, but for 
 how many seconds at a time? And how much life, soul, spirit, real 
 action is there in their wants while they last? Those people may 
 think of their wants in a half-hearted way for several minutes, and then 
 for several hours their minds will drift aimlessly among all the wishes 
 and desires in creation." 
 
 "Mrs. Whiting, I am beginning to thing that you know exactly 
 what you are talking about," said Mr. Warren, his tone verging dan 
 gerously on the borderland of optimistic enthusiasm. "There is one 
 thing, however, that is not clear. How is it possible that the act of your 
 wanting a thing will enable you to get it? It seems to me as if it were 
 a mysterious process, and 1 refuse to associate with mysteries." 
 
 "There is nothing mysterious about it. Just do it, and keep at it. 
 Then you will see how nicely it works. And my explanation is that 
 when you really want to do a certain thing, you cause all the elements 
 in your being to work toward that certain thing. You build yourself 
 up after the likeness of the thing you want; you begin to comply more 
 and more with the requirements of the thing you want, and naturally 
 you will soon have what you want. The best wants the best. Make 
 yourself equal to the best and you will get the best. And also, the best 
 attracts the best; therefore, make yourself like the best, and you will 
 be drawn into the world of the best." 
 
 "Suppose two people should want the same thing, what would 
 happen then?" 
 
 "One of these days, Mr. Warren, you will be just as efficient in 
 answering abtruse questions as you now are in asking them," said Mrs. 
 Whiting, as she faced him squarely, and almost melted every pessimis 
 tic icicle out of his soul with the glowing warmth of her beaming counte 
 nance. "But when you begin to want a thing every minute, and with 
 all there is in you," she continued, with a convincing ring in her 
 voice, "you will either get what you want, or something better. The 
 energetic, alive, thorough-going optimist will not have to take some 
 thing just as good. If the place he worked for is already occupied, he 
 will be asked to choose from vacancies higher up. You know, there 
 are always vacancies higher up." 
 
 "True, indeed," said Mr. Reardon, "and men are not nearly so 
 
The Will and The Way 45 
 
 anxious to find those places higher up as those places are to find 
 men." 
 
 "Yes," replied Mrs. Whiting, meditatively; "the higher up you 
 go the louder does the place call for the man, and the fewer are the 
 men within hearing distance." 
 
 "That all sounds very pretty," said Mr. Warren, half sarcasti 
 cally, his skepticism and pessimism beginning to come back on him; 
 "but the fact is that under present systems the doors to those places 
 higher up are locked to the average man." 
 
 "That s true," said Mrs. Whiting quickly; "those doors are locked 
 to everybody; but there is not a person alive that does not possess 
 the key." 
 
 "Very pretty again, though the fact remains that, under present 
 systems, the majority are not permitted to come close enough to those 
 doors to use the key." 
 
 "Then, how do you account for the fact that a number do come 
 close enough to those doors regardless of present systems?" 
 
 "There are several reasons." 
 
 "No, I beg to differ with you. On the surface there may seem 
 to be several reasons, but in reality there is only one. Those who 
 succeed do so by becoming greater than any system, greater than any 
 circumstance, greater than any condition or environment. They do 
 not depend upon systems; they depend upon their own power to turn 
 all systems and all circumstances to good account." 
 
 "That is all very well for the masterful few, Mrs. Whiting, but 
 it does not solve the problem for the many. The lives of the masses 
 cannot change for the better until their environments are madei 
 better." 
 
 "And who produces environment? Can you point out to me a 
 single form of environment, aside from natural environment, that 
 has not been produced by man? You cannot; no one can. You 
 may philosophize on this subject to the end of time; you may offer to 
 explain everything, and then proceed to explain your explanations; 
 but the fact remains that environment is nothing more than effect, and 
 man is the sole cause. Man is the creator; in his hands all other 
 things constitute plastic clay." 
 
 "Very good, Mrs. Whiting, very good, indeed; thus far I agree 
 with you perfectly; there is another side to the subject, however. We 
 all know that man is, in turn, affected by his environment, and it is 
 admitted by close students of all schools that the masses are almost 
 entirely controlled by their environment, not only morally, but men 
 tally and physically, as well." 
 
 "You are right, Mr. Warren; I agree with you fully, and I am 
 convinced that when we have exchanged views on all these great sub 
 jects, we shall differ on but few things, if any. And I am very, 
 glad that you mentioned the other side. There is where the secret 
 lies. Man creates his own environment, and then, in turn, is affected 
 by that environment; but he need not be controlled by the way he 
 is thus affected, because he has the power to determine, each case, 
 
46 The Will and The Way 
 
 what that effect is to be. No external thing can affect man unless it 
 first produces its impression upon his mind. But man can sufficiently 
 control his mind to exclude impressions that are not wanted. There 
 are some things in every man s environment that will produce effects, 
 but there are also some things in his environment, no matter how 
 lowly or adverse it may be, that are beneficial. By denying undesir 
 able environments the privilege to impress his mind, and by admitting 
 impressions from everything that is beneficial in his environment, he 
 will be affected only by the beneficial. Accordingly, he will steadily 
 build himself up, and will work himself out of that which he does 
 not want into that which he does want. His circumstances will become 
 his servants, because, so long as he guards the portals of his mind, 
 they have the power to do only that which he desires to have done." 
 
 "You have given me something new to think about," Mr. Warren 
 replied, slowly and thoughtfully. "I shall have to reconstruct my views 
 completely now. But I think I see in your ideas the germ of a system 
 of thought and action that will solve everything for everybody. Given 
 that system, it is up to them to use it as they like, and get out of it 
 what they want. And 1 can readily see that any man could, through 
 such a sysem, have all his wants and desires supplied." 
 
 They were all silent for a few moments, when Mr. Warren, real 
 izing the full value of this new idea he had received, rose to his feet 
 and stepped quickly toward Mrs. Whiting. "Thank you," he said, his 
 face beaming with unspeakable joy and gratitude, as he extended to 
 her his hand. "You have made me a new man, and through me you 
 shall make new the lives of a million. I have something to live for 
 now, and I shall live for it with all the power of body, mind and soul. 
 Thank God for this evening; no one knows what it means to me; no 
 one knows what it shall mean to great multitudes; but time will tell it 
 all. I cannot now. I wish I could, so that I might express my gratitude 
 in words as I feel it in my soul. But when a life is completely trans 
 formed, who can find words to describe the glory, the beauty and the 
 meaning of it all?" 
 
 "We all understand," Mrs. Whiting replied, gently and sweetly. 
 "We all understand. And we rejoice for the million infinitely more 
 than tongue can tell. We know what you are going to do, and we 
 know that you will carry out your great purpose far beyond your most 
 lofty expectations." 
 
 "Thank you again, Mrs. Whiting, and then again and again with 
 out end ; that is all that I can say. And now I must go. I must be 
 alone. I must think. I want to be still with my soul and my God. 
 I feel that I must. So kindly excuse me. I know you will all under 
 stand." 
 
 The sudden and somewhat solemn departure of Emory Warren 
 produced an atmosphere that was hardly conducive to the immediate 
 resumption of a subject that Miss Kirkwood imagined might seem 
 trivial under the circumstances. But she was determined to be told 
 all that had been promised, and therefore after about fifteen minutes 
 
The Will and The Way 47 
 
 of general conversation she decided to arouse sufficient courage to 
 present her case once more. 
 
 "You said you knew what was wrong with me, Mrs. Whiting," 
 she began, shyly; "did you say all that you intended to say?" 
 
 "No, I simply said, in the first place. That expression would 
 naturally infer that there was something more to be said. And there is." 
 
 "Oh, but I should be so happy to hear the rest." 
 
 "And I did not intend to let you go until 1 had told you the rest." 
 
 "That is one of her admirable virtues," interrupted Mr. Whiting. 
 "She never fails to do what she makes up her mind to do." 
 
 "That may be the reason why she never fails," said Mr. Reardon. 
 
 "You are right," Mr. Whiting replied promptly. "And you have 
 touched there upon a most remarkable subject." 
 
 "Won t you tell us something about it, please," asked Miss Kirk- 
 wood. "I never seem to be able to make up my mind properly, and 
 I know it is very important." 
 
 "It is very important, because when you make up your mind to do 
 a certain thing you set all your faculties to work to find a way to do it, 
 And they always succeed, providing the mind continues in its original 
 purpose." 
 
 "Another great secret unveiled," exclaimed Mr. Reardon, as he 
 sprang from his chair and shook Mr. Whiting s hand vigorously. "Well, 
 I wonder what is coming next." 
 
 "Oh, everything," said Miss Kirkwood, softly, with a prophetic 
 ring in her voice. 
 
 "Yes, I know that," replied Mr. Reardon; "but it would be so 
 interesting to know what is going to come in the meantime." 
 
 "What is wrong with me, for one thing," she said demurely. 
 
 "Yes, and now I am going to tell you," Mrs. Whiting continued. 
 "In the second place, you do not give yourself a fair chance. You 
 hide your best qualities. You live in a passive, negative state, and 
 do not give expression to the richness that is in you. To the general 
 observer you appear to be just average, but to those who can see 
 through more superficial appearance, you prove yourself to be a jewel 
 of the first rank. As you appear now, very few men would be attracted 
 to you ; but by making a few slight changes in your attitude you would 
 attract the admiration of the finest men in the world." 
 
 "But that is too good to be true," declared Miss Kirkwood, try 
 ing to appear as delighted as she felt, in spite of the fact that her face 
 was on the verge of burning up. 
 
 "Nothing is too good to be true," replied Mrs. Whiting, em 
 phatically. "All that is true is good, and all that is good is true." 
 
 "That is indeed a beautiful thought. But what are those slight 
 changes?" 
 
 "Begin with your smile. Make your smile sweetly expressive. 
 A passive smile may arouse a slight degree of admiration, but a posi; 
 tive s,mile is invariably fascinating. Any woman can, by training her 
 self to express through her smile all the sweetness that is in her nature, 
 
48 The Will and The Way 
 
 become so fascinating that she will be simply irresistible. You under 
 stand what I mean, of course?" 
 
 "Yes, Mrs. Whiting, I do. That is something that I think every 
 woman understands. But not every woman knows the difference 
 between the smile that fascinates and the one that does not. But 
 now that 1 know, I shall proceed at once to cultivate the former. 
 And I thank you so much. I am going to act upon your advice in 
 every respect; and now watch me get the best man in the world." 
 
 "And when you have succeeded," interrupted Mr. Reardon, 
 "offer the recipe for sale, and you will be a millionaire in less than a 
 year." 
 
 "No, indeed," she declared emphatically, as she rose to say 
 good-night; "the recipe shall be free to every girl in the world." 
 
 IX 
 
 It was nearly twelve o clock when Melville Reardon said good 
 night to the girl with the golden hair. The Friday evening at the 
 home of Mrs. Arnold had come and gone, but the real effect of this 
 event was just beginning. The evening had been pleasant in many 
 ways, but in one way, at least, it had been disappointing. The dis 
 appointment, however, did not dawn upon the mind of Mr. Reardon 
 until he was out on the street on the way to his own home. He had 
 several blocks to walk before he could get the car he wanted, and as 
 he walked on slowly he began to reflect. 
 
 According to his judgment, when he was alone, Elviria Cameron 
 was very sweet and pretty, and almost charming, though not quite. 
 Her personality was attractive, her hair could not have been more 
 beautiful, and her deep .blue eyes had that mellow, liquid expression 
 that most men admire so much. Her mouth could not be easily im 
 proved upon, and her face as a whole was all that a particular man 
 could wish as far as form and complexion were concerned. But there 
 was one thing lacking, and that one thing was the most important 
 of all. 
 
 She was not crude; no, not in any form or manner; but she 
 did not possess the slightest degree of that indescribable something 
 in a fine woman that he usually spoke of as a high polish. And he 
 had always said that he could not be satisfied with a girl that did not 
 possess that special quality. The elements of her being did not seem 
 to contain that richer fineness that he thought the true feminine per 
 sonality should possess, and there was a certain hollowness in her voice 
 that revealed unmistakably the lack of culture. But she was good 
 company, and made every effort to be pleasing and entertaining; she 
 had said nothing, however, that was of particular interest, a fact which 
 had strangely escaped his mind until now when he was alone. 
 
 From the very moment he first saw her he had felt himself falling 
 in love with her, and as he was saying good-night that evening in the 
 hallway of her own home, he had asked her if he might have the 
 
The Will and The Way 49 
 
 pleasure to call. He had told Mrs. Arnold he intended to do this, but 
 after leaving the genial atmosphere of that impressive personality he 
 had partly changed his mind. It seemed that he thought more of 
 Miss Cameron when they were with Mrs. Arnold than when they were 
 alone. Nevertheless, at the last moment he had asked to call, and had 
 even stated definitely what evening he might be expected. He had 
 given no thought to the possible outcome of such a course, and he had 
 been strangely unconscious of the fact that this golden-haired maiden 
 did not correspond in the least with the "one woman of his dreams." 
 
 To make these two young people appear as interesting to each 
 other as possible, had been the special effort of Mrs. Arnold from the 
 moment they met to the time they left her home together. She aimed 
 to so direct the conversation that she might draw out the best from 
 Mr. Reardon s brilliant intellect and at the same time inspire Miss 
 Cameron to say everything that a sweet young girl should say. She 
 tried in every way, without seeming to do so, to impress upon the mind 
 of Mr. Reardon that Miss Cameron was one of the rarest of jewels, 
 and she tried in the same way to impress upon the mind of Miss 
 Cameron that Mr. Reardon was a man that had few equals, if any. 
 To make these two look at each other in the most favorable manner 
 was her object, and she succeeded. She would vacate the room, on 
 some pretense or other, for a few moments, at frequent intervals during 
 the evening, and when the couple was getting ready to leave she found 
 ways and means to say something encouraging to each of them without 
 the knowledge of the other. 
 
 "Now you must make arrangements to call and see Miss Came 
 ron," she said to Mr. Reardon while the young woman was in another 
 part of the house. "But she is a rare jewel," she continued, "one of 
 the most splendid girls that ever was. You have an opportunity there. 
 See that you embrace it at once, metaphorically first, and literally 
 later," she concluded in a tone that spoke much between the lines. 
 
 "Don t let him slip out of your hands," she said to Miss Cameron, 
 as she managed to arrange an "aside." "He is too good to lose. 
 Treat him nicely and well now. Be just as sweet to him as you can, 
 and make yourself just as attractive and interesting as possible. He 
 is certainly a man worth having, my dear girl. You will never meet 
 anyone who can compare with him in brilliancy, character and real, 
 manly worth. This has been a lucky night for you. Now see that you 
 take full advantage of the opportunity." 
 
 The young people had acted upon these impressions and seem 
 ingly well-meant suggestions without knowing the reason why; and 
 for the time being they were in love ; at least, they imagined they were, 
 and had made arrangements accordingly to continue as they had 
 begun. 
 
 Coming to the corner where he was to get his car, Mr. Reardon 
 took a hasty glance at his surroundings. He was now in a different 
 part of the city, a section with which he was not familiar, and as 
 he expected to wait for a car many, many times at that corner hence 
 forth, he decided to look around and become acquainted. And in 
 
50 The Will and The Way 
 
 doing so he saw a party of young people coming directly to where he 
 was standing. They were all gaily dressed, and evidently in a similar 
 frame of mind, judging from the tone of their conversation. They 
 passed him, but stopped a few yards further on, and he guessed that 
 they were looking for the same car. He noticed there were four young 
 ladies and three men, and he thought he recognized one of the men. 
 The recognition proved mutual, for the man in question approached 
 him at once. 
 
 "Why, hello, Reardon!" he said. "You remember me, do you 
 not?" 
 
 "Yes, I do, most surely; you were in Mr. Spaulding s office a few 
 days ago," replied Mr. Reardon. 
 
 "That s right, and while I was there Mr. Spaulding told me you 
 were the most ambitious young man he had ever known. I happened 
 to mention that fact to our party tonight and one of the girls ex 
 pressed an intense desire to meet you. And here you are; what good 
 luck for her and for you. She is none other than Miss Lillian Strong, 
 a fine girl, somewhere between thirty and thirty-five, not very hand 
 some, but worth two million, all in her own right. She just adores 
 young men with enormous ambition, and since you are said to be the 
 chief of that tribe, you have the first chance. Come along, be intro 
 duced." 
 
 Melville Reardon obeyed, though somewhat reluctantly. He was 
 not exactly timid, but he, a minor clerk, working for a small salary 
 and very plainly attired, to meet a fashionable young woman having 
 possibly a small fortune invested in her present raiment the idea 
 disturbed him for a moment. All shyness disappeared, however, at 
 once he was introduced, for she placed him at perfect ease by engaging 
 his attention in a most interesting conversation. 
 
 When the street car they had all been waiting for finally arrived, 
 Miss Strong arranged very politely and very tactfully to have Mr. 
 Reardon occupy the same seat with her. And she thus gave herself 
 the opportunity to continue her conversation in the same interesting 
 manner. Mr. Reardon saw at once that she was a very bright girl, 
 well bred, highly cultured, and fully familiar with the best that was 
 going on in the world. But he was not attracted to her personality. 
 She had refinement, intellect, character, polish, and most charming 
 manners, but her personality was decidedly unattractive. How unfor 
 tunate, he thought. He dfd so admire a pleasing personality in a 
 woman. But then, he suddenly concluded, if she had been a woman 
 of fine personality, she would have been married ten years ago. So 
 there was neither gain nor consolation for him either way. She was a 
 splendid woman, however; that was evident, and he inwardly felt a 
 strong desire to know her better. 
 
 As she discovered that she was nearing her destination, she finally 
 said, "I have learned that you are tremendously ambitious, and I do 
 so admire ambition in a man." 
 
 "That is too true," Mr. Reardon replied, as he blushed like a 
 girl. "I have more ambition than 1 can properly care for." 
 
The Will and The Way 51 
 
 "But I should so love to have you tell me about it," she said, as 
 she looked at him in such a sweet, appealing manner. 
 
 "And I should be most happy to tell you everything that could 
 be told about it," he replied, not knowing why he seemed so willing 
 to comply with her wishes, and being utterly unconscious of the fact 
 that he had never told those secrets to anyone, and had vowed not to 
 do so while he was single. 
 
 "But how can my wish be granted?" she asked, in the same ir 
 resistible manner. 
 
 "There is only one way," he ventured, feeling himself becoming 
 nervous, "and that is for me to ask for the pleasure to call." 
 
 "And the pleasure will not be yours alone," she replied, in a tone 
 that revealed genuine delight. "When can you come?" she added, as 
 her dark eyes sparkled with the thrill of joyous expectation. 
 
 "Sunday evening, if that may comply with your best conven 
 ience," he replied, though hardly being aware at the time of the 
 "why," "where" or "when" of anything. 
 
 "You cannot come too soon," she said, her manner seemingly 
 becoming sweeter and more irresistible than ever. "And I shall wait 
 for Sunday evening with a joy that will be unusual, indeed." 
 
 A few moments later Mr. Reardon said good-night to the heiress, 
 and as he said so there was a feeling in his heart that was dangerously 
 on the verge of something more than mere admiration. 
 
 When he reached his own simple, unattractive room, his thoughts 
 were not as pleasing as he could wish. How few things he had that 
 he wanted, and within forty-eight hours he would be the guest at the 
 mansion of a woman that had everything. What a contrast! And 
 why that contrast? Life is certainly strange, he thought, when sud 
 denly he discovered himself on the brink of a sigh. But he refused at 
 once to enter its depths, because he had vowed a few days before never 
 to feel depressed or worried again in his life. 
 
 He retired and tried to sleep, but it was nearly dawn before he 
 succeeded. And when he woke up he found that he would be at least 
 two hours late at the office. This, however, did not disturb him, as 
 he had never been late before; besides, he had frequently remained 
 two or three hours after the time to close. 
 
 On his way to the busines section of the city, he found it diffi 
 cult, for some unknown reason, to feel cheerful. There seemed to be 
 a cloud hanging over him, or something in the air that was bent on 
 impressing gloom upon every feeling in his soul. But he succeeded, 
 by the force of his will and the constant attention to his recent reso 
 lution, in keeping this darkness on the outside. Nevertheless, it was 
 there, pressing for admission, and the fact did not please him in the 
 least. 
 
 When he arrived at his work he went at once to the private office 
 of Mr. Spaulding, so as to give an excuse for his tardiness, but to his 
 amazement he found that man walking the floor in unspeakable mental 
 agony. 
 
 "Don t ask me anything, don t offer any sympathy or hope or 
 
52 The Will and The Way 
 
 consolation," Mr. Spaulding cried, in a tone of anguish and bitterness. 
 "The bubble has burst at last. I tried my best to prevent it, but in 
 vain. It would have happened anyway, sooner or later; it was an end 
 that was inevitable. But to get through with it that is what I " 
 
 Mr. Reardon was actually stunned with pained astonishment, 
 and almost stared at Mr. Spaulding, being in total darkness as to the 
 real meaning of the situation. 
 
 "You knew that part of this business was speculation, did you 
 not?" he began again, as he stopped for a moment and looked Mr. 
 Reardon fiercely in the eye. 
 
 "Yes, but " 
 
 "Don t say anything," interrupted Mr. Spaulding. "There is 
 
 nothing to say. I have lost everything everything. Part of my 
 
 business was legitimate; the rest was questionable. The questionable 
 won the day, as it always will, just as surely as one decayed apple will 
 finally spoil all the others." 
 
 "I can stand it," he continued, in a half-defiant tone. "That s 
 
 not it but it s Adeline that s what makes me feel no, I can 
 
 never say how I feel but what will Adeline think what will she say 
 what will she do if 1 could only spare her what " 
 
 "Oh, but the misery I have brought upon her," he groaned. 
 "Wat will life be to her now her future as black as the blackest night 
 but I knew it would end this way what will she think now 
 
 nothing has ever disturbed her before but now it is different now. 
 
 She has lived in luxury all her life she has had everything what will 
 she say now that she has nothing how can I tell her where can I 
 find the strength to do it I could do anything but that no, I can t 
 wait I must go and tell her now but the suspense . Yes, I must 
 go to Adeline at once I shall be back shortly but what will she 
 think what will she do the dark night 1 have given to you Ade 
 line how can 1 ever tell you how " 
 
 For several minutes after Mr. Spaulding s heart-rending depar 
 ture, Mr. Reardon was motionless and speechless; even his mind re 
 fused to act. During the past few days he had frequently asked, What 
 is coming next?" and this was the first thought that aroused his mind 
 now. Then his mind drifted to that sweet, innocent girl, and what she 
 was presently to learn. What would she think? And what would her 
 future be now? As he thought of it he felt himself going farther 
 and farther out on the brink of the dark abyss of gloom, but before 
 his mind could take this bitter descent, he audibly declared ,"No!" 
 Whatever happened he would not give up to despair. He would con 
 quer despair, even though he failed in all else. But he was determined 
 not to fail in anything. If he could only give Adeline some of the 
 strength and determination he was now beginning to feel. But pos 
 sibly she would have no need of assistance. Could that be true? 
 Would she be stronger than this, even this? And what would she tell 
 her father? She would tell him something. What would it be? What 
 would he not give could he know. Yes, and a strange desire to know 
 began to creep over him a desire that he found almost impossible 
 
The Will and The Way 53 
 
 to control. But he would have to control it somehow, and he went to 
 his desk to see what he could do to occupy his mind. 
 
 And there was another surprise this time a most pleasant sur 
 prise a letter from Cyril Janos. He opened it quickly and to his 
 supreme delight found these words: "You have asked me much. 
 Come any evening after tonight and I will tell you everything." He 
 clasped the letter in his hand as if it were some long lost treasure of 
 priceless value, and before he could think, he spoke aloud, "What is 
 coming next?" 
 
 It was nearly eleven o clock in the morning when Richard Spauld- 
 ing came home to tell his daughter what had happened. On his way 
 to the house he had worked up his will to a point where he thought he 
 could tell her everything and yet be calm. He had also framed in his 
 mind a few statements of hope and consolation with which he meant 
 to make it as easy for Adeline as possible, and assure her that he could 
 find a way to shield her from personal suffering through the loss. He 
 clung tenaciously to what he had resolved to say, and felt equal to the 
 occasion until he entered the door. 
 
 But when he saw his daughter, so radiantly happy and so sweetly 
 contented in their luxurious and delightful home, which was theirs no 
 more, his strength failed him. There was no real strength back of his 
 determination and trumped-up resolve; it was only superficial will 
 power, stimulated temporarily with animal force, and it did not stand 
 the test. 
 
 As he entered, and beheld at a glance the riches and glory that 
 were passing, and thought of the misery and want that seemed to follow 
 at his very heels, his mind became dazed and bewildered. He could 
 scarcely frame an intelligent thought, and his heart sank to the very 
 lowest depths of darkness and despair. Without speaking a single 
 word, he literally fell into a chair and began to sob aloud. And so 
 deep was his grief that it was some time before he became conscious 
 of the gentle presence of his Adeline, as she was patiently waiting to 
 learn the trouble, so she might offer peace and rest with her soothing 
 balm. Finally he was able to tell her, in broken sentences, that he 
 had lost everything; but he was struck absolutely speechless for sev 
 eral minutes when this mysterious daughter calmly replied, "No, it is 
 not the truth." 
 
 Presently, he declared, almost at the top of his voice, "But it is 
 the truth, and I have suffered an age of torment coming here trying 
 to tell you." 
 
 "I know how you feel," she replied, sweetly, as she seated her 
 self on the arm of his chair, and began to soothe his aching head with 
 hands that could almost speak every word in the language of love; 
 "but I wish to say," she added, with a tone that seemed to ring with 
 authority, "your loss is insignificant and does not disturb me in the 
 least." 
 
54 The Will and The Way 
 
 "Why, what do you mean?" he demanded, his soul on fire with 
 something he could not positively understand. 
 
 "Simply this, that I am living in a world that neither poverty nor 
 misfortune can ever touch." 
 
 He looked at her in a sad, bewildered manner that was pathetic 
 in the extreme. Had she already lost her mind? Yes, he had feared 
 this from the very moment his misfortune was discovered. What could 
 he say now? He must say something, and he began to try to think. 
 But his efforts were momentarily suspended, for she again began to 
 speak. 
 
 "You say you have lost everything. I say you have not. You 
 still have yourself and all that that term may imply. You still have the 
 power that produced what you once possessed. That power can still 
 continue to produce; and if henceforth employed in legitimate channels 
 only, it can produce far more than you ever seemed to possess before. 
 However strong a power may be when used in the wrong, it becomes 
 infinitely stronger when used in the right." 
 
 She paused for a moment to note the effect of her remarks, but 
 as he was not ready to reply, she calmly continued. 
 
 "When there is a break in the reservoir at the foot of the moun 
 tain, the rushing stream may seem to indicate that all supply is being 
 lost. But when we turn our eyes away from the passing calamity and 
 look further toward the source of supply, we change our minds. Be 
 yond lie the mountain peaks of perpetual snow, forever environed in 
 the warmth of the sun. Simply repair the break, and make the entire 
 wall stronger than ever before. It will soon be refilled, even to over 
 flowing." 
 
 "Adeline, I do not understand you in the least; explain yourself. 
 I am almost frightened at your conduct. I expected you to break down 
 completely, but instead you act as if nothing had happened. Such 
 conduct is not normal for a woman under the circumstances. There 
 must be something wrong." 
 
 "Calm your fear, father," she said, and she said it in a way 
 that made her countenance literally radiate with loving kindness and 
 good sense. And for a moment he seemed to try to do what she 
 said. Seeing this, she gently resumed. 
 
 "There is nothing wrong with me whatever. It is natural for 
 the weak to fall down when threatened with adversity. It is natural 
 for the strong to remain untouched and undisturbed in the midst of 
 every adversity." 
 
 To this he could not reply, and she presently continued, giving 
 marked emphasis to every word. 
 
 "I am stronger than anything that can ever come into my life. 
 And why should I not be? I am not a thing; nor am I a group of 
 things; I am a human being, a living soul." 
 
 "Adeline," he implored, tearfully, "how can you be so uncon 
 cerned when you know we are penniless?" 
 
 "I am not unconcerned," she said; and as he looked into the 
 fathomless depths of her beautiful eyes, he saw she spoke the truth. 
 
Trie Will and The Way 55 
 
 "I am as tender as you are," she continued, "and feel far more deeply; 
 but in my world there is always peace, regardless of the storms that 
 may rage about me." 
 
 "That does not alter the fact that we are penniless," he replied, 
 in a tone that was almost sarcastic. 
 
 But she paid no attention to the tone of his voice. She simply 
 rose to her feet and, giving full expression to all that was tender and 
 beautiful and strong in her nature, her personality assumed an atti 
 tude that could have inspired any mind to leave the depths of despair 
 forever. To look at her, and then think of weakness or failure, was 
 to forget that weakness or failure could ever be. And the father 
 did look at this wonderful daughter with an interest that he had never 
 known before. For a moment there was light in his countenance. 
 Noting this, she gently, but firmly resumed. 
 
 "He who can be calm, serene and undisturbed when everything 
 has been taken away, has the power to regain everything that has 
 been lost." 
 
 As these words were spoken the secret of her strength and faith 
 began to dawn upon his bewildered mind. No, she had not lost her 
 mind. Instead, she had found the full measure of her mind. So 
 much was clear. But what could this fact do for him? Nothing, it 
 seemed, for when he thought of himself, his future became as dark 
 as the blackets night. At last he ventured to ask, "What can I do, 
 Adeline? I came home to give you strength and consolation, but 
 the tables have turned. I am the helpless child. You are the reign 
 ing queen of this godless country into which we have suddenly en 
 tered." 
 
 "Now you can begin again and begin right. You can rebuild 
 upon a firm foundation, and you shall regain everything." 
 
 These last words seemed to ring with a power that was more 
 than human, and somehow he could feel these words becoming a 
 part of himself. You shall regain everything, he found himself re 
 peating again and again in his own soul, until the conviction became 
 so deep that nothing seemed more certain in his life. But his senses 
 were not convinced, and turning to Adeline, who had taken a chair 
 near the other end of the room, he anxiously asked, "How do you 
 know that everything will be regained?" 
 
 "Because it is in you. Now you will have the opportunity to 
 prove what the real Richard Spaulding can do. What has just hap 
 pened is the best that could have happened. The sooner the wrong 
 is swept away the better. Now you are free to make the best of your 
 self. Now you can go and utilize all the riches that your nature may 
 contain. And these riches still remain. Therefore, I say, rejoice. 
 So long as you still have the source of supply, it matters not if you 
 lose some of it today; you can go back for more tomorrow." 
 
 "Your views are undoubtedly correct, Adeline, and your words, 
 your attitude, your countenance everything about you seems to give" 
 me peace and courage; but what are we going to do? We have 
 
56 The Will and The Way 
 
 nothing, absolutely nothing, and we have to leave this beautiful home 
 at once." 
 
 The thought of being compelled to take his daughter away from 
 all comforts and luxuries into he knew not what, brought back the 
 darkness and distress again to his mind; and he found it impossible 
 to suppress his tears. But Adeline, without showing the slightest 
 trace of regret, replied in her usual firm and gentle manner. 
 
 "This home is beautiful. That is true. But I am living in a 
 mansion that is ten thousand times more beautiful. It is a home 
 wherein there is always peace and joy; and I want you, father, to 
 come to that home with me now." 
 
 "Oh, yes; I will try to go anywhere with you in your imagina 
 tion; but please be sensible when you deal with sensible facts. We 
 are face to face with a practical problem. I tell you we have to leave 
 this house." 
 
 "When we do we will go to one that is better." 
 
 "Adeline, you are certainly beyond my comprehension. 1 am 
 at a loss to know whether to be provoked or inspired by what you 
 say. You may expect to go to a better place than this, but how are 
 you going to do it? Neither of us has a penny." 
 
 "When the mind falls down, everything falls down. When the 
 mind goes wrong, everything goes wrong. But when the mind goes 
 right, and continues to move forward, toward the better, everything 
 will come right, and that which is better will surely be realized." 
 
 "Adeline, you are simply philosophizing; and I don t blame 
 you for catching at every straw that may be near; but, after all, your 
 philosophy, when face to face with grim facts, will prove to be noth 
 ing more but a pretty piece of fancy." 
 
 "You may call it so, but it gives me serenity and happiness; 
 that is more than you have secured from your very substantial facts." 
 
 "It is the bitter truth, Adeline; nevertheless, pretty dreams do 
 not build mansions; nor do they provide food and attire." 
 
 "On the contrary, everything that is worth while in this world 
 is linked to a dream. No man ever accomplished anything without 
 having the product of a dream with which to work." 
 
 "True enough, I admit. But what comfort can such thought 
 give to a man when he has lost his money, lost his friends, lost every 
 thing, and been humbled to the very lowest place in life?" 
 
 "You have not been humbled, father; you are not stepping 
 down; you have simply been given a real opportunity to step higher 
 up. You know when there is something in a man, failure will in 
 variably make him great. And there is something in you. Before 
 you were held up by the mere show and glamour of things; now you 
 will be held up by the power of your own manhood, the supremacy 
 of your own unconquered soul. And as for friends, please remember 
 that when the lesser departs, the greater comes in. Now we shall 
 have real friends friends that love us for what we are, instead of 
 pretended friends, that love us for what we possess. And what a 
 
The Will and The Way 57 
 
 difference it will be. Oh, how I rejoice at the thought of that dif 
 ference." 
 
 For a few moments Mr. Spaulding was silent. He realized that 
 his daughter was too strong to be moved by what had happened, 
 and he was beginning to understand what such strength would mean 
 to him during the dark days that were at hand. There was a silver 
 lining to the cloud, but the cloud was there. Would her strength help 
 him to remove the cloud, or would her attitude and soothing presence 
 only make poverty a little easier to bear? Hoping she might give 
 him more light on this subject he again began to speak. 
 
 "My own Adeline, you are a marvel; nothing less. Tell me, 
 where did you get your wisdom, your unbounded spiritual strength? 
 You speak as if some supreme power had taken possession of your 
 soul. But will your strength hold out to the end?" 
 
 "It cannot possibly fail," she replied, her voice again ringing 
 with authority. And as she rose to her feet and walked to another 
 part of the room, every movement of her body seemed to be alive 
 with that same unfailing power. "The strength that is within me," 
 she continued, "is greater than any misfortune, greater than any ca 
 lamity that can ever befall me. And through that strength I shall 
 bear everything without a murmur; through that strength I shall con 
 quer everything and gain everything that the fullness of my life may 
 require." 
 
 "You undoubtedly will, Adeline. You are not a weak woman. 
 You are the most tender, the most beautiful and the most loving 
 woman that ever lived; that I always knew; and today I have dis 
 covered that you are also a spiritual giant. Such a woman will surely 
 fare well; to such a woman the world will surely be kind. But how 
 different it will be with me. There are no opportunities for me any 
 more, and my best days are gone." 
 
 "On the contrary, your best days are yet to come." 
 
 "Absurd, child! Absurd! I am past fifty; my youth is gone and 
 my vigor is waning. What do you mean by such statements? Be 
 sensible, please, be sensible." 
 
 "That is precisely what I am trying to be. By being sensible I 
 am calm and composed at this moment instead of hysterical. And 
 in that respect I shall continue as I have begun; I shall not become a 
 burden to you, but rather a help and even an inspiration, if you so 
 desire. However, permit me to repeat, that your best days are in 
 the future. Nature will give you more vigor and virility during the 
 next fifty years than you ever had during the past fifty, if you wish 
 her to do so. And the world is ever in search of the great and the 
 useful. You can be both if you will." 
 
 "I fail to understand you, Adeline; though I wish I could believe 
 as you do; somehow I think I can see reality back of your dreams 
 and your fancy; there seems to be something there that is tangible." 
 
 "Those things in life that seem to be the most unreal are after 
 all the only things that are secure when the so-called real things are" 
 taken away." 
 
58 The Will and The Way 
 
 "True again. I admit it. Your philosophy is sound, Adeline. 
 I believe what you say. I am beginning to understand. Better days 
 will come. But in the meantime how are we to be provided for? I 
 see no way. No one will trust me now. No one will care to have 
 anything to do with me. 1 have not played fair with the world. I 
 can repent and mend my ways, but time will be needed to prove that 
 I have actually changed. And during that time I see nothing but 
 darkness in my path." 
 
 "We shall be provided for," she declared, in a tone that would 
 have inspired conviction anywhere in the world. "Something will 
 happen," she continued. "When the wrongs of a man s life come 
 back to him, the good that he has done will come also. All is not 
 darkness and distress before us. We shall have all that we need. 
 That is my faith. Upon that rock I stand, and I refuse to move a 
 thousandth part of an inch, come whatever may." 
 
 With these last words all the black clouds in her father s mind 
 were dispersed completely. "Wonderful Adeline," he thought to 
 himself, too deeply moved to speak. What an inspiration she was 
 as she stood before him, her personality seemingly charged with un 
 conquerable power, her face radiant with a strength that was kind 
 ness, tenderness, love and faith, all most beautifully blended into one. 
 She seemed to feel the pain of everything that had occurred, and 
 yet she was far stronger than what she felt. She was in the midst of 
 storms, distress and blackness, but not an atom in her being was dis 
 turbed in the least. And gradually the tender presence of her mar 
 velous strength was healing her father s heart, while the sublime 
 serenity of her words and actions was giving peace to his troubled 
 mind. 
 
 To her father s awakened soul she was now nothing less than a 
 reigning goddess, holding in her right hand the elements of power 
 and in her left the elements of love, while the glory of her wisdom 
 beamed through her countenance as the radiant light of the sun. 
 Slowly he realized the lofty position she had taken in this unfortunate 
 event. He had been crushed with the crash of things; she had be 
 come stronger in the midst of it all and was towering above the con 
 fusion of it all, seemingly ready at any time to command every cir 
 cumstance to fall at her feet and obey. 
 
 "Adeline," he said, with a voice that was calm and a tone that 
 had the ring of strength reborn, "I will do as you say." 
 
 She had conquered. Her heart was full, and he thought he no 
 ticed her eyes becoming moist. But that was pleasing rather than 
 otherwise, for though she was a spiritual giant, it was comforting to 
 know that she was also a sweet and tender woman. What if he had 
 lost everything? He still had Adeline. Could anything in the world 
 give greater joy? And then she had invited him to come and live 
 in her world a world wherein there was always peace and joy. Yes, 
 he would go go at once, for now he knew what that was, and he 
 was beginning to see that to live in such a place was worth infinitely 
 more than all the wealth in the world. But Adeline had declared 
 
The Will and The Way 59 
 
 that he would regain everything, and he believed she knew whereof 
 she spoke. At any rate he would call upon nature to give him back 
 his virility, his ambition and his youth, and begin again. He would 
 build anew, and as he thought of the possibilities that such a course 
 might present, he began to feel an inner joy that he had never known 
 before. He imagined it was the joy of the conqueror, the feeling 
 that comes to him who wins because he deserves to win. Yes, such 
 was the future that he could now discern before him. It was a future 
 in which the real Richard Spaulding would be all that there possibly 
 was in him to be. And how interesting it would be to live to see the 
 development of such a future. 
 
 Suddenly he rose to his feet a new man. His face was beaming 
 with light and joy and his entire personality was erect with a power 
 that knows no kinship with fail. Giving Adeline the most affectionate 
 good-by he had ever given her in his life, he left the house to begin 
 at once the building of this new and brilliant future. 
 
 XL 
 
 When Richard Spaulding returned to his office he found Mr. 
 Whiting there waiting. 
 
 "I came to congratulate you," Mr. Whiting began; "you are now 
 free from a burden that no man, to be true to himself, can afford to 
 bear; and you are face to face with the greatest opportunity of your 
 life. I consider this the most successful failure I ever knew. I have 
 special reasons for thinking so, and ere many weeks you will fully 
 concur with my conclusions." 
 
 "I know it," Mr. Spaulding replied, with enthusiasm. "I feel like 
 shouting for joy. I have lost everything, but I have found myself. 
 Mr. Whiting, if you knew what happened at my home this morning 
 you would cry for joy. But we shall not speak of it now. You wish 
 to see me on some personal matter, I judge, so please come in." 
 
 The two men entered the private office, where they remained 
 for about thirty minutes. When they returned, Melville Reardon 
 thought they looked even happier than before, and he was becoming 
 anxious to know what so much satisfaction and joy might mean in 
 the face of such a serious disaster. But his anxiety was only partly 
 satisfied, as Mr. Spaulding seemed too busy to talk during the rest 
 of the afternoon, and was therefore very brief in his orders and ex 
 planations. When they were getting ready to leave, however, Mr. 
 Rardon was told to come back for another week to help close up the 
 business, and he was also promised some interesting information be 
 fore their last week together was at an end. 
 
 Returning to his own simple abode, Mr. Reardon did not know 
 exactly how to feel. He was in the midst of one of those moments 
 when it hardly seems right to be happy, yet wholly wrong to be sad. 
 He had much to think about, and the most important, for the time 
 being, was the fact that within twenty-four hours he would be a most 
 welcome guest at the luxurious home of Lillian Strong. 
 
60 The Will and The Way 
 
 Sunday morning arrived at last, and finally Sunday night. It 
 was an evening that Miss Strong had been looking forward to with 
 the keenest delight, and when Melville Reardon also arrived she was 
 happy indeed. 
 
 "Did you go to church today?" she asked, as the two were 
 seated on the lawn, surrounded with flowers and trees and a most 
 delightfully fragrant atmosphere. 
 
 "No, I did not," he replied, quietly, wondering why she should 
 open the conversation with such a question. 
 
 "Neither did I," she said, with a tone of satisfaction, evidently 
 pleased to learn that there would be no religious differences between 
 them. "In fact, 1 seldom go," she continued, "especially in mid 
 summer." 
 
 "That is not the reason why I was not in church today." 
 "No? You have other reasons. Possibly you are not religious. 
 Though we shall not be any the less friendly on that account, as some 
 of the truest and best people I know care nothing about religion what 
 ever." 
 
 "I beg to differ with you there, Miss Strong. We are all religious, 
 at least to some degree. And the better and truer we become, the 
 more religious we become." 
 
 "I hardly understand you, Mr. Reardon. Will you tell me what 
 you mean by being religious?" 
 
 "My religion is to do the best I know in this world today. But 
 to do my best I must make the best use of everything that is within 
 me. And the term everything* covers not only the powers of person 
 ality, but also the finer elements of mind and soul." 
 
 "Then with you religion is not a matter of creed or doctrine." 
 
 "Not in the least. Religion is not to believe what theologians 
 think about God, but to always do the will of God." 
 
 "I like that. But will you tell me what you mean by the will of 
 God?" 
 
 "My simplest definition is this: To do my best under every cir 
 cumstance, and to add perpetually to the welfare and happiness of 
 all, including myself. That, according to my mind, is what God wants 
 us to do." 
 
 "Beautiful! Beautiful, indeed I And I can readily understand 
 that from your point of view we could not be human unless we were 
 religious." 
 
 "That is certainly true. But it is also true that we become more 
 beautifully human as the finer elements of mind and soul become 
 more active. We also become correspondingly more worthy, more 
 useful and more happy." 
 
 "I believe that, Mr. Reardon. It is these finer elements that 
 you speak of that make life worth while. And I think I can see how 
 life could be made gorgeously beautiful and supremely happy if we 
 knew more about these richer kingdoms of mind and soul." 
 
 "We are in perfect harmony on that great subject, Miss Strong. 
 And to know that we are makes me happy, indeed." 
 
The Will and The Way 61 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Reardon. I appreciate these last words more 
 than I can say. But you did not tell me why you were not in church 
 today." 
 
 "When I go to church I do not wish to be told that I am sinful 
 and weak. I know that before. I do not wish to be told what to 
 believe. The beliefs of one age are the heresies of the next, and vice 
 versa. I wish to be told what I am, not in my weakness, but in my 
 strength. I wish to be told, not what I have failed to do, but what 
 is in me to do. I want to listen to something that can touch the soul, 
 something that can carry my spirit to empyrean heights and reveal 
 to my vision the beauty and splendor of existence sublime." 
 
 Lillian was silent, evidently touched by the beauty and eloquence 
 of his sentiments, and realizing that she was in the presence, not of 
 a mere man, but of a man who had visions a man who had felt the 
 power of that something that makes humanity great a man within 
 whose restless soul the elements of nature were mysteriously at work 
 preparing for some rare and wonderful career. 
 
 Noting her silence and the marked attention of her attitude, he 
 continued to give the reason she had asked for. 
 
 "If I am to be true to myself, I must live, not simply in my body 
 and in parts of my mind; I must live in all the kingdoms of my mind 
 and in all the kingdoms of my soul as well. But to train myself to 
 live truly in those other kingdoms, or what we may term the upper 
 story of this building we call man, I must go there frequently. I must 
 needs be lifted up, so to speak, and Sunday morning is the time most 
 suited for that sublime experience. How I wish that some real prophet 
 would arise in the world someone who could tell us the truth about 
 these things someone who could lead us out of the Babel of mere 
 words and the warfare of useless doctrines into that lofty realm of 
 peace and joy where we all shall find life into that secret place in 
 
 the soul from whence comes everything that is worthy and noble in 
 
 11 
 man. 
 
 "Your sentiments are most beautiful," declared Lillian, as she 
 looked up at him in a manner that was closely akin to worship. "And 
 as for the prophet you speak of," she continued, her face lit up with 
 the glory of those transcendent thoughts his words had engendered 
 in her mind, "I am absolutely certain I am in his presence now." 
 
 "No," he replied, half sadly, "that is not my work. I am made 
 for something else and I have other ambitions." 
 
 "Yes," she exclaimed, with eagerness. "And you were to tell 
 me tonight about those ambitions." 
 
 "That is true. But there are certain reasons why I could not tell 
 you all tonight. Though I shall tell you everything except the real 
 nature of the ambition itself. I may tell you that later; that is, if 
 you decide that you wish me to do so." 
 
 "Go on, Mr. Reardon, please go on. Tell me all you can. I 
 shall be profoundly interested, I know." 
 
 Her wish was granted. He told her everything that he had" 
 passed through in connection with his two leading ambitions, just as 
 
62 The Will and The Way 
 
 he told Cyril Janos at his first meeting with that remarkable man. 
 Then he told her what that masterful scientist had advised him to 
 do; and, lastly, he explained to her his present position. In another 
 week he would be without work, and the problem was what to do. 
 Should he seek another position, or should he try once more to carry 
 out his lifelong dream? He almost felt as if he could wait no longer. 
 Everything within him was urging him with more and more persist 
 ence to make a bold dash at once for the goal he had in view, but 
 as yet the way was anything but clear. 
 
 "There is a way," she whispered softly, as she looked into his 
 eyes with appealing tenderness. "Your ambitions can be realized, 
 Mr. Reardon. It is perfectly clear to me how it can be done, and 
 you can begin at once to work out your great career." 
 
 "You are very kind, Miss Strong, for taking such an interest in 
 my life and my future, and some day I hope you will tell me what 
 that way might be." 
 
 "Yes, I will tell you whenever you wish," she replied, in a low 
 tone, her voice trembling a trifle. "And I shall appreciate the privi 
 lege most highly," she added, with emphasis. "Though you will 
 promise me, will you not, to make no final plans until you have con 
 sidered my way?" 
 
 "I promise," he said, as he rose to take his departure. And 
 after a few moments of most friendly leave-taking, he left the luxury 
 and delight of this most beautiful home to again re-enter his own 
 uninviting abode. He always found it difficult to keep up his spirits 
 when he compared his own place of shelter, for that was all it was, 
 with the luxury that others with less ability enjoyed. But on this 
 particular night he felt that he had not the right to even express the 
 slightest dissatisfaction with his accommodations, for he knew there 
 was a palace waiting to receive him, if he would only utter a certain 
 word at a certain time. 
 
 When Monday morning came, and he realized that it was to be 
 his last week with Mr. Spaulding, he found it necessary to use all 
 the power of will in his possession to maintain a cheerful attitude. 
 But as the day wore on he was aided greatly in these efforts by the 
 way Mr. Spaulding faced the situation. That man went about the 
 closing up of his ill-fated business with never an expression of regret, 
 neither in speech nor in outward demeanor. He acted as if he were 
 simply getting rid of mere trash, and seemed supremely happy over 
 the prospects of beginning at the bottom once more. 
 
 To Mr. Reardon the week passed somewhat slowly, and he was 
 glad beyond words when Saturday finally arrived. What to do next, 
 however, was the problem, and the more he thought of it the more 
 confused he seemed to become. 
 
 To find moments of relief from his mental distress he called 
 frequently on Miss Cameron during the four weeks that followed. 
 And the relief he sought was always forthcoming in her presence. 
 She was invariably bright and happy, and he forgot the more serious 
 things of life in her light-hearted conversation. Gradually he came 
 
The Will and The Way 63 
 
 to think more and more that this girl could make him happy, and he 
 gave her to understand in various ways that his visits were more than 
 friendly calls. 
 
 He received several invitations to the home of Mrs. Arnold dur 
 ing the same period, which he accepted gladly. It was Mrs. Arnold s 
 purpose, in extending these invitations, to impress upon his mind that 
 Miss Cameron was the girl he needed. Though he did not discover 
 this purpose until later. But she partly succeeded, and he soon made 
 up his mind to declare his love for the girl with the golden hair. 
 
 The following Sunday he decided to carry out these intentions, 
 but on his way to the home of his chosen love he met Miss Strong. 
 This made him hesitate. During the evening, however, he made 
 several attempts to tell Miss Cameron that he loved her, for she cer 
 tainly seemed sweeter than ever. But whenever he tried to tell her 
 the picture of Miss Strong came up in his mind. What could that 
 mean? he wondered. Then he remembered that he had to run for 
 the car that he took in coming that evening, an act that he had never 
 committed on Sunday before. But somehow he "wanted" that par 
 ticular car, though he saw another coming less than a block away. 
 
 He went home without saying anything about love. A few days 
 later he went to see Miss Cameron again, and he was determined to 
 declare his love, but as he alighted from the car Miss Strong passed 
 in her carriage. The same incident, under slightly modified circum 
 stances, occurred again near the close of the week, and Mr. Reardon 
 concluded that something was wrong. Why did something mys 
 terious always come in his way whenever he undertook to secure a 
 wife? Was this another instance where his subconscious mind was 
 "interfering" so as to prevent an action that did not correspond with 
 his two leading ambitions? This throught brought him to his senses, 
 and he could see very clearly once more than Miss Cameron did not 
 resemble the "one woman of his dreams" in a single respect. 
 
 In the meantime he was in constant search of a position, but 
 could find nothing that was satisfactory. At times he was almost dis 
 couraged, and frequently resolved to go and see Cyril Janos, a privi 
 lege he had not taken advantage of recently. And the reason was he 
 felt he had not made the proper use of the information already re 
 ceived. He still permitted himself to be drawn in every direction, 
 and the mental part of himself still seemed to be twisted entirely out 
 of normal shape. If he could only turn all the powers of his being 
 upon the goal he desired to reach, a change for the better might 
 come speedily, but this was something he had not accomplished as 
 yet. There was no reason, however, why this might not be accom 
 plished at once. He knew how, and had both the force of character 
 and the will. Then he would surely find a way to begin the real work 
 of his life. 
 
 But there already was a way. He could marry Miss Strong. 
 He knew that was the "way" she had reference to, and it certainly, 
 would solve his problems. While he was working out the plans of 
 his great ambition he would not have to earn a living if he had Lillian 
 
64 The Will and The Way 
 
 for a wife. Possibly that was the answer to his prayers. No, hardly; 
 for she did not resemble "the woman." True, he was very much at 
 tracted to Lillian mentally, but he was not attracted to her person 
 ality; and for some reason, personal attraction seemed the most de 
 sirable. 
 
 These were his thoughts, and the more he entertained these 
 thoughts the darker his mind became. Finally, after four weeks of 
 separation from his real friends, another ray of light came into his 
 life, and a bright, strong ray it proved to be. He received a letter 
 from Mrs. Whiting, and an invitation to come to a special gathering 
 at her home the Thursday night following. "All the select souls 
 will be there," the letter went on to say. "Each one present will be 
 expected to ask some momentous question, and Cyril Janos will re- 
 ply." 
 
 Now there was something to look forward to, and his heart 
 danced with joy. Noting the address, he observed that it was the 
 house formerly occupied by Mr. Spaulding and the fairest of daugh 
 ters, Adeline. 
 
 XII. 
 
 The suspense of the intervening days had finally come to an end 
 and Melville Reardon found himself in the former home of Mr. 
 Spaulding, ready to appropriate every word that might be uttered 
 that evening an evening that was destined to become the parting 
 of the ways to everyone present. To add to his supreme delight, 
 he observed that he was in the company of all the choice spirits he 
 admired so much, and his soul was resting in that realm of supreme 
 content that only those can know who have been where all are friends. 
 
 He soon learned that Mr. Whiting had purchased the home of 
 Mr. Spaulding and that Adeline and her father had been invited to 
 remain as honored guests for an indefinite period. He also learned 
 that Mr. Spaulding had some great problem that he wished to work 
 out and that Cyril Janos had been invited to turn the light of his 
 practical philosophy upon the subject. 
 
 The coming of this great scientist inspired Mrs. Whiting to in 
 vite all her best friends and planned that each one should ask some 
 momentous question during the evening. 
 
 The evening began with a most brilliant conversation, led prin 
 cipally by Mrs. Whiting and Adeline, two matchless women accord 
 ing to Melville s view, and as he thought of the matter more closely, 
 he asked himself if Miss Cameron would fit in this group; but his 
 answer was No, nothing but No. How foolish he had been to pay 
 any attention to that girl, he thought to himself. No, he did not love 
 her. He had just schooled his mind to think he loved her because 
 Mrs. Arnold had so deeply impressed the idea upon his mind. And, 
 as he realized this, a dislike for that strong-minded widow began to 
 take possession of all of his feelings, and he found it difficult, for the 
 time being, to carry out his resolve never to dislike anybody any more. 
 
The Will and The Way 65 
 
 But his attention was completely removed from the subject when it 
 was announced that Cyril Janos had arrived. 
 
 The coming of this remarkable man aroused special interest in 
 the mind of Mr. Spaulding, as he was the only one of the company 
 who had not met this strange philosopher before. 
 
 When Mr. Spaulding saw Cyril Janos he saw a man that could 
 not be read from personal appearance. Two impressions came to 
 his mind. One was that there was no fault to find with the appear 
 ance; the other was that there was such an immensity back of the 
 appearance that the external features were as yet incapable of ex 
 pressing more than a mere fraction of what was alive within. To 
 most people, Cyril Janos was a Sphinx. To those who knew him 
 as he really was, he was without comparison, beyond and above 
 everybody they had ever met. He was not a mystic; did not pose as 
 trying to be a saint; he mingled freely among all men and answered 
 their questions briefly. He spoke only of what the inquirer could 
 understand. He never told all he knew on any subject until he had 
 auditors that actually wanted to know it all. His personality never 
 attracted special attention the first time, but the more frequently he 
 was met, the more attractive, the more remarkable, the more beauti 
 ful and the more fascinating his entire nature became. He grew on 
 everybody and never ceased to grow no matter how frequently he 
 was seen. He had no peculiarities except that he seemed to be dif 
 ferent. He was a type of which there was but one, and he alone was 
 that one. 
 
 After the plan of the evening had been explained and every 
 body invited to think of some remarkable question, Mr. Spaulding 
 was requested to present the first problem. 
 
 "There is a certain deficiency," Mr. Spaulding began, "in one 
 of the leading electrical apparatus in the world. To correct this de 
 ficiency a new invention will be required, and if such an invention 
 were perfected the cost of electricity for power, light or fuel would 
 be reduced to less than one-fourth of what it is now, and human com 
 fort would be increased in a thousand ways to correspond. I have 
 thought of such an invention for years, though not deeply, as my 
 time has been otherwise occupied; but recently the subject has come 
 to my mind with added force and I would like to know if there is 
 anything in your philosophy that I could employ in training my mind 
 for this undertaking." 
 
 "I am delighted," Cyril Janos replied with enthusiasm; "this is 
 a most interesting problem, and I think I know what it is to which 
 you refer." 
 
 I am glad of that; but is there any hope for me working it out?" 
 
 There certainly is. You already have considerable inventive 
 
 genius, and you cannot only bring out all of that genius through a very 
 
 simple method, but you can also train it to work for that particular 
 
 invention you have in view." 
 
 At this remark Mr. Spaulding, looked knowingly at Adeline, and 
 
66 The Will and The Way 
 
 she returned the glance with as much as to say, "I knew from the be 
 ginning that your best days are yet to come." 
 
 "This is good news, indeed," continued Mr. Spaulding, "and 1 
 know that you will tell me how to proceed." 
 
 All were silent for a moment, and the face of Cyril Janos seemed 
 to beam with a joy that no one present had ever witnessed before. 
 But that joy was more than joy. It seemed to say something, and it 
 seemed to say the same to all who were present. They all seemed 
 to read in his expression, "Watch for some marvelous invention. It 
 will come without fail." 
 
 The great scientist then resumed, and asked Mr. Spaulding what 
 he knew about that strange and fascinating something usually termed 
 the subconscious mind. 
 
 "I do not claim to know very much about it," Mr. Spaulding 
 replied, "but I think I have read almost everything published on the 
 subject. I am, therefore, quite ready for added information." 
 
 "Yes, in that case, you are ready; and to proceed, the first es 
 sential is to train that inner servant of the mind to express all the in 
 ventive genius you possess. The second essential is to train it to work 
 out that which you have resolved to perfect." 
 
 "And may I positively expect results?" Mr. Spaulding inquired, 
 his interest and attention becoming intense. 
 
 "Yes, positively," Cyril Janos replied with calm assurance; "and 
 1 use the term positively because the two great principles involved, 
 if applied, would not permit of failure. The first principle is that 
 the subconscious mind can be trained to do anything that lies within 
 the possibilities of human life, and thus far we have found no limit 
 to that possibility; nor is it likely that we ever shall. The second 
 principle is that the subconscious mind never fails to do what it is 
 properly directed to do." 
 
 "Then, according to your doctrine," interrupted Adeline, "every 
 mind will reach its goal some day, no matter how unattainable that 
 goal may seem to be." 
 
 "Precisely so." 
 
 "That is what my mother taught me," she added, with infinite 
 tenderness; "and I always knew it was true." 
 
 "Then suppose a man has no talent along a certain line," in 
 quired Reardon; "can he ever hope to accomplish anything along 
 that line?" 
 
 "Yes, positively again, because the subconscious mind can create 
 the necessary talent, and later express it. All the talent and all the 
 genius that ever appeared in any mind or that ever will appear in 
 any mind exists already in the subconscious of every mind. It can 
 therefore be brought out, though much time will be required if that 
 talent is not in evidence." 
 
 "Would you advise a man to create or bring out talent he does 
 not seem to possess?" asked Mr. Spaulding. 
 
 "No. Not as a rule. If there were no signs of the inventive 
 genius in your conscious or outer mind, I should not advise you to go 
 
The Will and The Way 67 
 
 to work with this invention. The average person has not learned to 
 live long enough to bring out from the deep realms of the mind what 
 has never been expressed before. It has been done, however, a 
 number of times, but the wisest course is to proceed to train the 
 strongest talent to do what you wish to have done; then you will 
 secure results almost from the beginning." 
 
 "I understand, and I always thought that the inventive faculty 
 was one of the strongest in my mind, though it has been entirely 
 neglected because I took somebody s advice when a boy and entered 
 the wrong vocation." 
 
 "That is true, Mr. Spaulding, and therefore you may proceed 
 with that new ambtiion, knowing that you will have results." 
 
 "But that is certainly encouraging to a man who has had the 
 experience that has recently been mine. And I believe you are right. 
 Something within me seems to tell me you are right, though I am 
 becoming anxious to learn how to proceed." 
 
 "That is very simple; in fact, many would say it is too simple 
 to be effective. Begin by forming a very clear idea of that which 
 you wish to invent, and impress this idea almost constantly upon 
 your subconscious mind. Continue to live in a manner where you 
 seem to consciously and deeply feel yourself inventing what you have 
 in view, and never cease to expect the results desired. Tell the sub 
 conscious mind every day what you wish to do. Talk to this mind 
 as if it had intelligence, because it has; and believe firmly that your 
 instructions will be carried out to the letter. Imagine constantly that 
 the subconscious mind is doing what you have directed it to do, and 
 inspire this imaging process with a desire so deep and so strong that 
 it seems to arouse unlimited determination in every atom of your 
 being." 
 
 "And is that all there is to it?" inquired Mr. Spaulding, anxiously. 
 
 "Yes, that is all, and to those who understand it is sufficient." 
 
 "I see what you mean. You have given me the principle and 
 it is my work to apply the principle; though, if I should fail to make 
 the principle applicable in my case, it would simply indicate that I 
 have not sufficient intelligence to do what I have the ambition to do." 
 
 "You have stated the matter well, Mr. Spaulding, and you have 
 said a thousand times as much as your words at first would seem to 
 convey." 
 
 For a few moments everybody was silent, evidently trying to 
 read between the lines, when finally Mr. Warren announced that he 
 had something to ask that he considered just as important as the 
 problem just presented. 
 
 "We shall be deeply interested in your question," Cyril Janos 
 replied, his face indicating deep satisfaction. 
 
 "Thank you," said Mr. Warren, deeply pleased with the attitude 
 displayed by the great philosopher; "then I will state my case and 
 do so as briefly as I can. I have a great project in mind; in fact, I 
 am laying the plans for what appears to me to be the greatest move- 
 men for human welfare ever established. I will give details later, 
 
68 The Will and The Way 
 
 but what I wish to know now is how I can place myself in touch 
 with the necessary means to carry out my plan." 
 
 "I understand. And have you tried persistent desire?" 
 
 "I am trying it now, but 1 am convinced that something more 
 will be required." 
 
 "1 am happy, indeed, to learn that you have made this discovery. 
 Though persistent desire is mighty, it does not always succeed. It 
 succeeds only when it has soul, and the soul of persistent desire is 
 nothing less than faith." 
 
 "Oh! but I am glad," Mrs. Whiting declared, "to have that 
 subject mentioned. 1 firmly believe it is the secret that underlies 
 every great achievement in human life." 
 
 "It is," Cyril Janos replied, calmly; "but the number who possess 
 the insight to discern the real significance of faith is not as large as 
 we should desire." 
 
 "And will you kindly tell us what you mean by the real signifi 
 cance of faith?" Mr. Warren inquired with a deepening interest. 
 
 "Believe that you can do what you wish to do, and then place 
 all of yourself in that belief." 
 
 "Yes, I understand," Mr. Warren replied; and his countenance 
 indicated to everyone present that he did understand. They saw 
 what he felt; that his problem was solved; that he now might pro 
 ceed to make the new dream of his life come true. 
 
 "In this connection," interrupted Adeline, "how do you in 
 terpret the statement that God helps them that help themselves?" 
 
 "Thank you for asking that question. I consider it one of the 
 greatest that could possibly arise in the human mind, and my answer 
 is this: When man helps himself he is turning to good account every 
 thing that exists within himself, and there is no reason why he should 
 seek aid from any source external to himself until he has first made 
 proper use of what he already possesses. But when he has reached 
 that stage where he is truly and fully helping himself, he has reached 
 the bounds of his own capacity, and to go further he will need assist 
 ance; and it is the great law that we invariably receive additional 
 life and power from the limitless when we fully employ what we 
 already possess. When we use intelligently all of -our power, then 
 we will begin to receive assistance from Supreme Power, and the rea 
 son why is simple. We can touch that which is on the outside of 
 the circle of limitation only when we live up to the full capacity of 
 that circle. We must be all that we are before we can justly expect 
 to receive that which will enable us to be more than we are." 
 
 "Then you believe," said Mrs. Whiting, "that the human mind 
 must necessarily place itself in touch with the Infinite mind if that 
 which is great or extraordinary is to be accomplished." 
 
 "Yes, that is precisely what I mean; and it is one of those truths 
 that no person can afford to ignore for a single moment." 
 
 "But is it necessary," Mrs. Whiting continued, "for the human 
 mind to attain a certain state of goodness before it can act in harmony 
 with Infinite mind; and if so, what is the reason that good men do 
 
The Will and The Way 69 
 
 not always succeed? Such minds are supposed to be in closer touch 
 with the Supreme. And I might add, what is the reason that ques 
 tionable methods frequently do succeed?" 
 
 "This is a problem that is disturbing nearly every mind in the 
 world today; but again the answer is simple. It is ability that suc 
 ceeds and not passive qualities, no matter how admirable those qual 
 ities may be. No person can succeed simply because he is honest and 
 just and good. He must have ability; but if his ability is combined 
 with character, manhood and true worth, his success will be far 
 greater; and besides, the happiness that he will gain from his success 
 will be multiplied many times. Ability to make money will make 
 money whether the methods employed are in strict accord with jus 
 tice or not; but whether such gains are worth while or not is another 
 question." 
 
 "Your answer is entirely satisfactory to me," said Mr. Writing; 
 "and it is my conviction that when your views on this subject are 
 made generally known, the seeming injustice that appears everywhere 
 in the world will be a mystery no more." 
 
 "That is the truth; and everybody having greater things in view 
 will then find that the force of mind must be combined with the force 
 of character. The force of mind without the force of character has 
 no definite center of action. It is power minus the man. It has no 
 permanent basis of operation, and therefore its success can never be 
 permanent. Regardless of precaution its forces will finally scatter." 
 
 "Will you kindly tell us," inquired Mr. Reardon, "what you 
 mean by character?" 
 
 "Yes, I will give you a very brief definition, one that any in 
 telligent mind can work out and develop to any point of perfection. 
 Character is the harmonious blending of positive qualities in con 
 structive action." 
 
 "And may I inquire how an ambitious man should apply his mind 
 and character when he meets what he wants, but realizes at the time 
 that he has neither the power nor the opportunity to get it?" 
 
 "Another great question," replied Cyril Janos, with enthusiasm. 
 "I wish we had time to do them all justice tonight. However, the 
 answer you require can be stated very briefly. When the average 
 person meets what he wants, but cannot get, he becomes mentally 
 depressed. In other words, his mind falls down; and when the mind 
 falls down it loses that power through which the thing desired is to 
 be gained. At such a time a person should, instead, become more 
 determined than ever before, and should so increase his desire to 
 win that he would stamp out completely every thought of disappoint 
 ment. Instead of thinking of himself as *p or me at such times, he 
 should declare with all the power of his mind and soul that he can 
 and that he will make this ambition come true." 
 
 "Such thoughts are certainly inspiring," declared Mr. Warren; 
 "and I should certainly become supremely happy if every man in * 
 the world could be endued with the whole of this optimistic phil 
 osophy; but how can the average man continue to apply such ideas 
 
70 The Will and The Way 
 
 when he realizes year after year that everything is going wrong?" 
 
 "In the first place, things would not go wrong year after year 
 if the man himself were always going right. If you are going right 
 and persist in going right, everything will soon cease to go wrong. 
 Things will soon change and begin to go where you are going. It is 
 only a question of whether you are to be pulled down by things or 
 things are to be pulled up by you." 
 
 "And to that I should like to add," said Mrs. Whiting, "that 
 every disappointment contains an opportunity." 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Spaulding, "and every failure is an open door 
 to greater success." 
 
 "And do not forget," interrupted Reardon, "that the darkest 
 night is but the vestibule to some bright and glorious day." 
 
 "And remember, please," Mr. Warren added, "that when your 
 last effort is followed by another effort the tide invariably turns." 
 
 "All very good," said Mr. Whiting; "but we must also remem 
 ber that the greatest adversity is but richness and power gone wrong, 
 though it cannot go wrong very long if we persist in going right." 
 
 "And it is so easy to go right," said Adeline, "when you know 
 that you will always find what you want at the end of that road." 
 
 "Now, Mildred," said Mrs. Whiting, "what can you add to this 
 brilliant array of aphorisms?" 
 
 "I should like to add something," she said in her usually quiet 
 and timid manner, "and this is it: From certain points of view even 
 a tear will sparkle like the most brilliant diamond." 
 
 "You are a wonderful girl," said Mrs. Whiting; "but you your 
 self are the only one who does not see mto think so. You are noth 
 ing less than a rare jewel; though I know you would feel more com 
 fortable if I should speak of you as the least of human creatures." 
 
 "Now, it is not as bad as that," Miss Kirkwood replied, as she 
 blushed in the consciousness of the fact that she had suddenly be 
 come the center of discussion; "but," she continued, "it always 
 seemed to me that everybody had more worth and value than I." 
 
 "And for that reason," Mrs. Whiting replied, "you have made 
 it a part of your life to add to the worth of others by giving yourself 
 away completely to every demand that your friends might make; 
 but you have received nothing in return." 
 
 "Yes, but it makes me happy to serve." 
 
 "That may be true," Mrs. Whiting continued, "but that is no 
 reason why you should be a doormat when you were made to be a 
 crown." 
 
 "Probably not, but in the one case I would be useful, while in 
 the other purely ornamental." 
 
 "Now you are wrong again," said Mrs. Whiting, with emphasis; 
 "the ornamental is just as necessary to the greatest good in human 
 life as that which we speak of as strictly practical. Things that seem 
 to be purely ornamental are sometimes the most useful, and we know 
 very well that the beautiful is second to nothing in the measure of 
 service." 
 
The Will and The Way _T\_ 
 
 "Most beautifully true," said Adeline, and everybody nodded 
 assent. 
 
 "And that reminds me," Mrs. Whiting continued, "that Mil 
 dred has not presented her question. Do let us have it at once." 
 
 "I think I better not," Miss Kirkwood replied, as she blushed in 
 her usual extravagant manner. "There is only one question that I 
 can think of, and I am sure it is not in harmony with the profound 
 discussion that has been taking place here tonight." 
 
 "That may be the very reason why we should have it," Mrs. 
 Whiting replied; "and I insist that we have it wothout delay." 
 
 "Very well," said Miss Kirkwood; "but it has always been a 
 mystery to me why a young man always tells his latest girl that she 
 is the only girl he has ever loved." 
 
 "I knew Miss Kirkwood had something good," said Mrs. Whit 
 ing, laughingly, "and I am sure we shall all be more than interested 
 to know the answer; especially since it is a fact that nearly every 
 young man seems to believe what he says under such circumstances." 
 
 "This answer is simple enough," said Cyril Janos; "and again 
 we are considering a subject which, if thoroughly understood, would 
 dispel a multitude of troubles. The fact is that when a man is in 
 love, the object of his affections is the only creature that exists in the 
 world of his love. His mind is so absorbed in that one creature that 
 he is wholly unconscious of anyone else ever existing in the world. 
 When a man is in love, the present love is the only love that seems 
 real. All previous loves now appear to be nothing but illusions. 
 And, therefore, the fact that a man tells his girl that she is the only 
 girl he ever loved is usually conclusive evidence that his affections 
 for her are genuine; provided, however, that his declarations ring 
 true, and this any girl can tell without fail." 
 
 With this remark Cyril Janos excused himself for the evening; 
 and a little later the others also took their departure, each one realiz 
 ing that it had been an evening that could not be easily forgotten. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 An eventful summer had passed; at any rate it seemed eventful 
 to Mildred Kirkwood; and an autumn equally important was fast 
 moving to a close. For several months she had been making prep 
 arations for the great climax in her life, though she had no idea as 
 to how or when it was to occur. Early in the summer, after learning 
 the secrets from Mrs. Whiting, she had resolved to become the wife 
 of the best man in the world, and she fully expected to have the op 
 portunity to carry out her resolution. She was carefully schooling 
 herself to avoid every feeling of disappointment, no matter what 
 external appearances in the matter might be, as she had been told 
 that mental depression would only defeat her purpose. However, 
 there was nothing in sight that would indicate the speedy coming of 
 the climax. 
 
72 The Will and The Way 
 
 She was convinced that she had discovered the best man in the 
 world, but to win him was out of the question; so she sometimes 
 thought, though usually she would refuse absolutely to entertain such 
 a thought. Instead, she would think to herself, "I will do what is 
 necessary to win the best man in the world, and when all is in readi 
 ness, he will surely come." Thus she put away all unfavorable indi 
 cations and continued to smile herself into the hearts of everybody 
 she met. 
 
 One day as the holiday season was approaching she thought 
 more seriously than ever before of the future she had pictured for 
 herself. It was during the noon hour, and she was alone in that part 
 of the grat establishment where she was employed. She therefore 
 had the opportunity to think in peace, and somehow the cherished 
 dream seemed almost real. She wondered why, but was soon awak 
 ened from her sweet reverie by the approach of Marshall Chesterton. 
 
 "Alone with your thoughts," he said as he gave her a hand 
 shake that seemed to say what she so dearly hoped some day to hear. 
 "And 1 know," he continued, in a more tender voice than he had 
 ever used in her presence before, "that those thoughts are most beau 
 tiful." 
 
 "And how do you know?" she asked, her face radiating with 
 loveliness as she suddenly gave expression to those exquisite emo 
 tions she so deeply felt in her soul. 
 
 "Becaue beautiful thoughts always produce a beautiful counte 
 nance," he replied; and as he spoke he observed that his words had 
 the effect desired. 
 
 "To that I have nothing to say," she answered him quietly; 
 "only 1 know my thoughts are beautiful, far more so than you think." 
 
 "There is no question about that, Miss Kirkwood, and this is 
 not the first day that you have had such thoughts. I have noticed 
 a great change in you; in fact, I should say, a phenomenal change, 
 and it seems that it began some months ago; and of course you have 
 noticed that my visits to this establishment have been far more fre 
 quent since that change began. In the past 1 had business here only 
 about once every week, but recently I have found it convenient to 
 call here on some pretense or other every day. Probably you can 
 guess the reason why. But tell me, will you not, what was it that 
 originally produced this great change?" 
 
 "Oh!" she said, as every atom in her being seemed to thrill with 
 inspiration, "1 have started a sunshine factory." 
 
 "Indeed? I think I understand. Though I might have guessed 
 it. But where is it located? It is a place I am more than curious to 
 see." 
 
 "Why, in the rear lot of my countenance. There was some va 
 cant space there, so I thought 1 would turn it to good use." 
 
 "Splendid idea, to be sure; and I dare say it will be worth 
 millions one of these days." 
 
 "It is already; and the demand for the product is so great that 
 it is necessary to keep the entire concern in operation day and night." 
 
The Will and The Way 73 
 
 "I don t doubt that in the least, but do you think this factory 
 will ever be for sale? If it ever should be placed on the market, I 
 want the first opportunity. And I would consider it the best invest 
 ment that anyone could ever find." 
 
 "No, Mr. Chesterton, it is not for sale. My sunshine factory 
 will never be sold." 
 
 "And why not?" 
 
 "Because I mean to give it away." 
 
 "And have you decided who the luckiest person in the world 
 is to be?" 
 
 "Yes, it will be given to the best man in the world, and he may 
 take possession as soon as he likes." 
 
 "So you are going to give it to a man, are you? Well, you do 
 deserve the best man in the world, Miss Kirkwood. At last you have 
 placed the proper estimation upon yourself. If I were only that 
 man! Then, indeed, could I thank my stars." 
 
 "But you are," she whispered in an undertone, half afraid that he 
 might hear what she said; "and you need not thank your stars," she 
 continued as she raised the corner of her eyes so as to look at him, if 
 possible, without being observed. "Thank yourself. The stars have 
 nothing to do with it. You have made yourself what you are, and you 
 deserve the honor for whatever your position in life may bring to you 
 at any time." 
 
 "No, Miss Kirkwood, I am not the best man in the world, nor am 
 I within a million miles of that lofty position." 
 
 "But, Mr. Chesterton, I think so, and that is sufficient, is it not? 
 According to your own statement, it is what I think in this case that 
 counts." 
 
 "You have improved indeed, Miss Kirkwood, and I am delighted 
 to see it. In the past you didn t think that you or your thoughts 
 counted for anything." 
 
 "Yes, I have changed." 
 
 "Nothing is more evident to me." 
 
 "I do not feel like the same person in any manner whatever, and 
 the chief reason is that I have changed the purpose of my life." 
 
 "I am quite aware of the fact that you have; but will you kindly 
 explain to me what this new purpose might be?" 
 
 "The principle of it is to live for the sake of always living more; 
 and the result is that I enjoy the best that there is in the whole of 
 life, not only as it is expressed through the tangible avenues of visible 
 material, but also as expressed through the intangible avenues of mind 
 and soul." 
 
 "I see your idea and it is quite evident to me, even at first sight, 
 that one would never get tired of living for such an idea. But what 
 more is there to your purpose? There is a great deal more, I am sure." 
 
 "Yes, there is. I used to live for what I hoped to have gotten in 
 the past. Now I live for what I expect to get in the future." 
 
 "Splendid, Miss Kirkwood. Nothing better was ever said. But 
 
74 The Will and The Way 
 
 what do you do when you get what you do not expect, and fail to get 
 what you do expect?" 
 
 "I have learned to count everything joy, and I am training myself 
 to believe that all things work together for good." 
 
 "Splendid again, though I dare say that you sometimes fear that 
 you might get, after all, what is contrary to that which you expected." 
 "No, I never think of what I do not want. 1 haven t the time. 1 am 
 too busy thinking of what 1 do want. I never fear failure; I haven t 
 time for that either, for 1 am devoting every moment in training my 
 mind to have more faith in success." 
 
 "No wonder you have changed so much, Miss Kirkwood. If a 
 rock could think such thoughts, it would soon become a diamond. 
 But tell me, what do you do when you are face to face with trouble?" 
 
 "I have learned to smile at everything and to meet all things 
 as good things. You remember, do you not, how soon a smile of 
 God can change everything?" 
 
 "I do; and I think I can now see for the first time what it means 
 to smile with such a smile." 
 
 "I know you do, Mr. Chesterton; and if you will think a moment 
 you will see that there is only one smile in all the vastness of creation. 
 Every real smile, no matter where it may appear, is the smile of 
 God, and when we learn to smile with that smile, then we learn how 
 soon that smile can change the world. 
 
 "You are a jewel, Miss Kirkwood, the most precious jewel that 
 ever was; and may I have the pleasure to tell you more, as much as 
 1 like, in the same tone of voice?" 
 
 "You may, Mr. Chesterton," she sweetly replied, her entire 
 being trembling with a new and wonderful joy; "and you alone," she 
 added in a whisper that was intended to be too soft and too low for 
 him to hear; but he did hear and was glad. 
 
 In a few moments he took his departure, but not until he had 
 given her an invitation that meant everything she had dreamed for 
 the future. And how soon, she thought to herself when alone, it all 
 came about. Yes, it was the smile, and how soon that smile changed 
 everything. It brought her into a new world, and in that world every 
 thing was beautiful in the present, with every promise for the future. 
 Wonderful indeed, she thought again. Yes, phenomenal; but how 
 and where did it all begin? Simply a change in herself. That was 
 the secret. By trying to be everything that nature had given her the 
 power to be, she had come to a place where she was about to receive 
 everything she had ever desired or longed for. 
 
 Mr. Chesterton was not only one of the select among real men; 
 he was more. As to character, nobleness and worth, he was all that 
 any woman could desire; but he also possessed remarkable ability, and 
 through that ability had already won great success in the world. He 
 was only in the early thirties, a few years her senior, and could readily 
 have won almost any woman that he might have wanted. But he 
 had waited for a woman that possessed that strange something so few 
 women have taken time to cultivate. And as Mildred realized that 
 
The Will and The Way 75 
 
 she had, through her own efforts, become the possessor of that charmed 
 something, she could hardly contain herself for joy. And all that 
 afternoon she continued to dream her beautiful dream, a dream that 
 was fast coming true, a dream that would give her far more happiness 
 than she ever imagined could come to any human soul. 
 
 XIV 
 
 "With your kind permission, Miss Cameron, I should like to talk 
 to you about the more serious side of life tonight." 
 
 "Very well, Mr. Reardon. I am always ready to please you." 
 
 That was true. She seemed always ready to please and that was 
 one reason why he thought he loved her so much. He had come to 
 the conclusion, however, that he would not make a declaration of his 
 affections until he had learned whether there would be harmony of 
 thought in their lives. He had tried several times to attract her 
 attention to some of his most important ideas, but in each instance 
 she had changed the subject so tactfully that he had followed her 
 inclinations without hardly knowing that he did so. But the time for 
 action was now at hand. He felt he could wait no longer. He would 
 ask her a few general questions about matters that he considered vital, 
 and if there seemed to be indications of harmony between them, he 
 would ask her then and there to link her life with his. 
 
 The thought of this step gave him a peculiar inner sensation that 
 he could not understand. It was pleasing and yet it was not pleasing. 
 For a moment he continued in this state, and as he listened to the 
 autumn winds as they were fiercely blowing without, the situation 
 seemed to receive a strange romantic touch. Suddenly he was carried 
 away, so to speak, from all that was matter of fact in life, and he found 
 it difficult to take up the subject he intended. 
 
 When one is touched with those mysterious elements of life that 
 speak only in the language of love, reason has nothing to say, and 
 when nature conspires to intensify the intoxication of that delicious 
 state, either with her sublime panorama or with her weird and soulful 
 intonations, there is nothing to be done but simply to follow the bent 
 of the heart. And it was in a condition somewhat similar to this that 
 Mr. Reardon found himself as he sat there beside his golden-haired 
 maiden, encircled, so to speak, in the dream-producing comfort of an 
 open fireplace. 
 
 Finally he succeeded in asking her, "Do you think that a married 
 couple ought to be in perfect harmony as to thought?" 
 
 "No," she quickly replied, "it would be too monotonous." 
 
 "But suppose the husband had some great purpose in life and 
 his wife was not interested in that purpose, would it not be a detriment 
 to his success?" 
 
 "I suppose so," she answered in a tone that was decidedly lacking 
 in interest. 
 
 "You know I have a great purpose in life," he resumed, after a 
 somewhat uncomfortable pause; "I should like to tell you something 
 about it." 
 
 "All right; go on. I will listen." 
 
76 The Will and The Way 
 
 This reply did not please him very much, but he loved her, so 
 therefore he could overlook a small matter like that. "You know," 
 he began, "I do not think we are here to get ready to die. I think 
 we are here to live as long as we can and accomplish as much as we 
 can, not only for our own, but for the whole race." 
 
 "Then why don t somebody do it?" 
 
 "I mean to do it, Miss Cameron. Would you not like to see me 
 realize such a dream?" 
 
 "No, I think not. 1 would rather see you try to make your family 
 happy and get all the pleasure you could out of life while you live." 
 
 "Yes. But suppose I would do both of these things, and in addi 
 tion continue not only to prolong my life, but to live every year a 
 richer, better and more useful life. Wouldn t that be better still?" 
 
 "I don t think 1 understand you, Mr. Reardon." 
 
 "I wish you did, Miss Cameron. I would like very much to have 
 you understand me perfectly." 
 
 "Yes, but what does it matter? We can enjoy ourselves even 
 though we should never mention those weighty matters." 
 
 "I would rather not take that position concerning everything that 
 is vital that we may meet in this world, for you know I want to do 
 something extraordinary, or at least something worth while." 
 
 "I do not doubt but that you will." 
 
 "I know I will. I must. But the woman I love can do more 
 for me in that respect than I can myself, if she believes in me and 
 in my purpose." 
 
 "That may be true." 
 
 "Don t you think a woman can inspire a man, Miss Cameron?" 
 
 "I do not know how she would. 1 never thought of it." 
 
 "If she loves him and believes in him, she certainly will, or I 
 should say she can. But there is love and love." 
 
 "Now, Mr. Reardon, you intend to draw me into a deep discus 
 sion. I think there is more happiness to be found in some other way, 
 and when people love each other, everything else will come out all 
 right." 
 
 "You may have the correct view," he concluded; and though 
 he wished her ideas were different, or at any rate that she would take 
 an interest in his ideas, still he decided that he would seek her love 
 anyway and then hope that everything would come right. 
 
 After a few moments of delicious imagination wherein he pictured 
 to himself how desirable such a love would be, he felt he had the 
 courage to tell her what he had come to say that evening; and his 
 courage did not fail him. He did tell her and continued to tell her, 
 in a hundred different ways, the oldest and the newest of stories in 
 the world ; but as he was about to ask her to become his own forever, 
 his mind was suddenly brought down from those sublime heights to 
 be rudely shocked by something very ordinary. He thought he saw 
 someone move back of the portiers that partly closed the doorway. 
 He looked again and he was not mistaken. For a moment he was 
 dazed and it seemed as if his mind was standing still. 
 
The Will and The Way 77 
 
 "Oh! what is the matter?" she cried. "You are as white as 
 a ghost." 
 
 "Oh, nothing," he was finally able to say. 
 
 "Yes, there is something. Tell me at once; I am getting 
 frightened." 
 
 "I will tell you in a moment," he replied, fiercely, as he rose and 
 walked to the door. And as he looked back of the portieres he dis 
 covered the cause of the strange movements he had observed. He 
 said nothing but calmly returned and took his chair at her side. 
 
 "What did you see?" she inquired with troubled curiosity. 
 
 "Nothing much," he replied. "Just a man. A mere man. A 
 very ordinary man. A man who is not good enough to be my father- 
 in-law; but he has listened, undoubtedly in rapturous glee, to our entire 
 conversation tonight." 
 
 "It is not true," she cried, her face turning crimson with anger. 
 
 "But it is true," he said in a tone that was almost as cold as ice. 
 "And so good-bye, Miss Cameron. We shall not meet again." 
 
 With these words he left the house, and as he closed the door 
 behind him, he closed his heart forever to every woman in the world 
 except the one woman, the image of which he had so frequently seen 
 and admired in his lofty dreams. 
 
 Upon reaching his own room, he fell at once into a mental state 
 that was closely akin to complete despair; but, remembering the prin 
 ciples he had some months ago adopted as the rules of his life, he soon 
 succeeded in putting away every thought of darkness and gloom. And 
 having accomplished this, he calmly began to analyze the mysterious- 
 ness of the situation. Once more his plans had been frustrated and 
 his best intentions brought to an unexpected and disagreeable ending; 
 but it was not the first time. It was possibly the fifteenth time; pos 
 sibly the twentieth time; he could not definitely recall which. The 
 circumstances, however, in each case bore a striking similarity; though 
 he could hardly say that he was sorry that it had always happened 
 that way. For a moment there seemed to be sorrow, but that was 
 always followed with extreme joy. But those moments of sorrow 
 could hardly be designated as such. Wounded pride would be the 
 better term. 
 
 When he thought of what had just occurred and the human 
 smallness that has brought it about, he felt no disappointment. The 
 man, who, by his ill-bred or rather despicable conduct, had brought 
 this recent love affair to such a sudden termination, was, after all, his 
 friend. "Yes," he said to himself almost aloud, "that man is my 
 friend. By the smallest piece of work in which anyone could be 
 engaged he saved me from a life of trouble." Then he remembered 
 having read somewhere, "the words of those who are against us shall 
 become a power in our hands, and those who seek to lead us into 
 destruction shall lead us into pastures green instead." And for a 
 long time he thought about this. It was certainly true, but why was 
 it true? Why was it true in the life of some and not true in the life 
 of others? Why was it true in his life? Finally he thought he saw 
 
78 The Will and The Way 
 
 the answer, and his mind returned to the original problem before him. 
 
 What was the reason that all of his plans had been upset so 
 abruptly; not once, but in nearly every instance? Why had he never 
 found what he had so earnestly sought, and sought nearly every 
 moment of his personal existence? These were his problems. They 
 were the same problems that had constantly confronted his mind for 
 many a year. But why should he ask such questions? he finally thought 
 to himself. Had he not been given the answer already? Did he not 
 understand the situation perfectly? Yes, it was true he did. The 
 situation was simple. Though his ambitions were lofty and though 
 he felt he had the ability to carry them through, he had all his life 
 permitted himself to be the toy of every trifling desire and fancy 
 that might pass his way. His time and his energy had constantly been 
 wasted on things that he realized he did not want, and still he was 
 constantly deploring the fact that he had not gotten what he did want. 
 Then how could he expect his life to be different? How could he 
 ever win the one woman of his dreams so long as he permitted himself 
 to fall in love with every pretty girl he might meet, no matter how 
 superficial or how utterly devoid of personal worth she might be? 
 How could he realize the great goal of his lifework so long as he made 
 every circumstance an obstacle instead of a stepping-stone toward 
 that goal? So much was clear, but why had he acted in that unprofit 
 able manner all his life? 
 
 Like a flash came the answer, and he saw what he had never 
 seen before. All the important events of his life passed before him, 
 and he discovered at a glance that every desirable event had been 
 the result of his doing what he inwardly felt he should do, while every 
 undesirable event had been the result of his doing what friends or 
 circumstances had suggested. 
 
 Now he had the secret at last, and for the first time in his life 
 he felt that his future was completely in his own hands. Then he 
 remembered again having read somewhere, "do what your heart-felt 
 judgment prompts you to do, and permit neither circumstances nor 
 men to interfere with your decision." 
 
 For a long time he contemplated the possibilities of such a course 
 of action. Then suddenly the full significance of it all took complete 
 possession of his mind, and as it did so, he rose and became as one 
 endued with superhuman power. "Come whatever may," he declared 
 to his own soul, "no power upon earth can tempt me to turn from the 
 one path I have chosen for my life. Henceforth I shall live, think and 
 work for the two supreme ambitions of my life; and for those two 
 alone, regardless of gain or loss, regardless of suffering or joy. This 
 shall be my one course every moment of my existence, and nothing 
 in creation can make me change." 
 
 With these words he felt that at last he was absolutely free. All 
 the fetters had been broken, all the bonds removed. The weakling in 
 his nature had completely disappeared and the strong man had come 
 forth instead. He had felt the mighty power of his real nature many 
 times before, but now he realized that he possessed that power, and 
 
The Will and The Way 79 
 
 the experience was such as no tongue or pen can ever describe. One 
 moment in such a realization seemed equal to a thousand ages of 
 pleasure, and as he continued to enjoy the glory of it all, something 
 within him seemed to say that the turning of the tide was at hand. 
 He seemed to be living in pure light, and it seemed that through that 
 light he could clearly discern that the long-expected change was about 
 to transpire. These tidings from the soul brought perfect tranquility 
 to his mind, and as he retired, sweet, refreshing sleep came speedily. 
 
 The next morning there was a decided reaction in his mind and 
 everything seemed dark again. What to do that day he hardly knew. 
 He had occupied several temporary positions during the past month, 
 but had nothing at present. He did not feel in condition, however, 
 to search for anything in such a state of mind, so therefore made no 
 plans for the day. But he felt a strange desire during the latter part 
 of the forenoon to go down into the city, and as this desire became 
 very strong, he started off at once, determined henceforth to follow 
 his own deepest inclinations, no matter where such inclinations might 
 lead. Upon reaching one of the principal streets in the busy shopping 
 district, he turned down one of the side streets, where the throng was 
 not so great. He did this because he wanted to, though he did not 
 know until later why he wanted to get away from the throng at that 
 particular time, as he always enjoyed himself the best when he was 
 in the midst of a dense crowd. 
 
 After having walked on for less than a block, he passed the 
 entrance to one of the principal banks, and as he did so he saw Lillian 
 Strong coming down the broad stairway. At her side was a middle- 
 aged gentleman, whom anyone would recognize at first sight as a lead 
 ing figure in the commercial world. Seeing Mr. Reardon, she motioned 
 for him to wait. 
 
 "Mr. Reardon is the most ambitious man in the world," was 
 almost the first remark Miss Strong made as she introduced the two 
 gentlemen. 
 
 "Then this is a most happy meeting," the financier replied. "I 
 have been looking for such a young man for a number of years. You 
 might be curious to know the reason why, thought it is too long a story 
 to be told here on the street. Besides, it is a secret and can be told 
 to a chosen few only." 
 
 "I should be delighted to hear it," Mr. Reardon answered him as 
 he tried to suppress a mingled sensation of enthusiasm and tender 
 emotions now welling up within him. 
 
 "You are the first man to be told. Come and see me tomorrow. 
 Be ready to tell me what you wish to do and we shall find a way to 
 have it done. I am a good judge of men. Your appearance indicates 
 that you possess great ambition, and your voice indicates that you have 
 the power to carry your ambitions through. Come tomorrow at one." 
 With these words the great money king excused himself and went 
 on. But as Mr. Reardon, his eyes becoming moist with tears he could 
 not suppress, turned to escort Miss Strong to her carriage a few paces 
 away, there was another surprise in store. 
 
80 The Will and The Way 
 
 "Why, here comes Mr. Warren," he declared, with a tone of great 
 surprise. "I know you would like to meet him," he said, turning to 
 Miss Strong. 
 
 "Indeed, I should," she replied with emphasis, as she turned to 
 shake hands with this other young man of wonderful dreams; and the 
 meeting proved to be an agreeable surprise to both. When their eyes 
 met, Mr. Reardon thought he saw unmistakable signs of the fact that 
 it was the meeting of two souls, who, for the first time, had found 
 each other. 
 
 "I have heard that you are planning to inaugurate a great move 
 ment, Mr. Warren," she said. 
 
 "Yes," he replied with a deep determined tone, "a new move 
 ment for the promotion of human welfare all over the world." 
 
 I have dreamed of something similar," she replied with enthu 
 siasm, "and I should be happy, indeed, to find that you are the man 
 to carry it out." 
 
 "I am the man to carry it out. No power in the universe can 
 stand in my way, and I know I shall secure everything necessary to 
 perfect my plans. This is my faith, and in that faith 1 am going to 
 work." 
 
 She looked at him as she had never looked at a man before, and 
 as she did so a great light came into her mind. In the past she had 
 hoped and questioned. Now she knew. The two young men quickly 
 discerned the change in her countenance. The one observed the 
 change wtih great admiration, the other with a love that seemed almost 
 uncontrollable. But both had the same thought at the time. Both 
 inquired inwardly, "Was there ever a woman more beautiful?" 
 
 "Mr. Warren," she resumed calmly and tenderly, "will you 
 kindly reveal your plans to me? I never was so deeply attracted 
 to anything in my life before. The very thought of it stirs my soul 
 to its very greatest depths and makes me feel as if something extra 
 ordinary was going to happen." 
 
 "I feel exactly as you do," he said, "when I think of it, and 1 want 
 to tell you everything. You, I know, will understand." 
 
 "And it is a matter that is too important to be delayed an hour," 
 she replied, with deep earnestness; "kindly enter my carriage and we 
 will drive to my home at once. There are times when formalities are 
 obstacles to human good, and this is one of those times." 
 
 The couple departed, and Mr. Reardon, as he went on his own 
 way, hoped that he would meet no one during the remainder of that 
 day, for his thoughts were far beyond the world of human speech. 
 
 XV 
 
 There was nothing on the door but simply "Hadley & Co." 
 That was all; but those few words spoke volumes to Melville Reardon. 
 
 What would he learn when he went inside? What would the 
 great financier say after hearing his story? What proposition would 
 that man make? Would he offer anything, or would he simply look 
 upon it all as a beautiful dream? These were the uppermost questions 
 in Mr. Reardon s mind, and they did not move slowly nor leisurely 
 
The Will and The Way 81 
 
 among the clamoring elements of his other thoughts. What would the 
 answer be? Had the turning of the tide come at last? Soon he would 
 know. It was one o clock, and it was now his privilege to walk in. 
 But as he extended his hand to turn the knob in the door, another 
 question arose in his mind. 
 
 He had never before told his secret ambitions his other ambition 
 to anyone; and he had always promised that "the one woman" 
 should be the first to learn that life-long secret of his soul. What 
 should he do? He must speak of this other ambition today, and even 
 give explicit details, or the interview would be of no avail. For a 
 moment he hesitated to go in; but presently he felt a deep joyousness 
 in his soul, and that feeling had always indicated that everything was 
 all right. It was a sign that had never failed him in the past; and as 
 there was no reason why it should fail him now, he decided to obey. 
 He would walk in without delay, and if he was called upon to fully 
 explain his other ambition he would do so. 
 
 Opening the door he found himself in a most luxurious waiting 
 room, and face to face with a woman. As he entered she arose, and 
 the eyes of the two met and exchanged that beautiful but mysterious 
 something that has always been too eloquent for speech. 
 
 For several minutes those two pairs of eyes looked into the depths 
 of two souls and knew. No words were spoken, and all surroundings, 
 for the time being, seemed void of existence. 
 
 The first thought that arose in Mr. Reardon s mind was "the one 
 woman." le was she. He did not question; he did not wonder; he 
 knew. And the realization of this brought him back to the conscious 
 ness of where he was. This made words necessary, but his usual 
 timidity coupled with the strange embarrassment of the situation were 
 not conducive to the immediate flow of ready speech; and it was with 
 great effort, much hesitation and many blushes that he finally suc 
 ceeded in saying anything. 
 
 "I was to come here at one," he began. 
 
 "Yes, I know," she replied before he could finish his remark. 
 "You have an engagement with my uncle." 
 
 "Yes," he said; "though I did not know that he was your uncle," 
 he added, hardly knowing what to say. 
 
 "Yes, he is, but he won t be able to see you for an hour. Can 
 you wait?" 
 
 "I can wait any length of time. In fact, I cannot possibly leave 
 until I see him." 
 
 "Then be seated, will you not, and I shall try to help you make 
 the time seem less than what it really is." 
 
 "Nothing could give" but he did not finish his sentence. What 
 he wanted to say could not be said as yet; and he realized that fact 
 in time. 
 
 "I mean I shall be most happy to be entertained in such a man 
 ner," he resumed, correcting himself; "but may I first have the pleas 
 ure to know to whom I am speaking? My name is Melville Reardon." 
 
82 The Will and The Way 
 
 "And my name is Marguerite Romaine," she replied, extending 
 her hand. 
 
 He took her hand in his, and again their eyes met in that same 
 mysterious manner. For many minutes they stood as if entranced, 
 their souls too full of the greatest joy in the world to think of else but 
 that one joy. 
 
 "My uncle told me that you were the most ambitious man in the 
 world," she began, after what seemed to be an eternity of bliss had 
 completed its circle. 
 
 "That is what my friends tell me; and I can hardly understand 
 how anyone could possibly be more ambitious." 
 
 "And did you know that that was the reason why you were in 
 vited to come here today?" 
 
 "No, I did not. I knew that that fact gave occasion to the invita 
 tion, but 1 did not know that it was the only reason." 
 
 "That, however, is the truth, Mr. Reardon." 
 
 "And will you kindly explain?" 
 
 "Yes, but let us be seated first. I will explain, providing you 
 will tell me what you are so ambitious to gain or become." 
 
 "Yes, that I will do gladly," he replied, knowing that now, for the 
 first time in his life he could speak freely. He was speaking to her, 
 and he could tell everything. 
 
 "I have two leading ambitions," he continued; "and these have 
 been with me almost as long as I can remember. They are so tremen 
 dously strong that they seem to dominate my very life; and every 
 thing that 1 ever attempted to do that was contrary to their supreme 
 desires has been spoiled in the doing. Whenever 1 have begun to act 
 contrary to these ambitions, something has always come in the way." 
 
 "And what were they, please?" she asked, her whole life on 
 tiptoe with expectation. 
 
 "Early in life I saw, with my mind s eye, the picture of a woman 
 that 1 knew at the time to be the woman; and one of my ambitions 
 has been to meet that woman and win her love." 
 
 "And have you met her?" she asked, as every atom in her being 
 trembled with her intense desire for the answer. 
 
 But he did not reply at once. Instead, he unconsciously turned 
 towards her, moved by some power he could not control possibly 
 the same power that had made his ambitions so persistent and so 
 strong. 
 
 Again their eyes met. Again they were speechless. Again they 
 were entranced in the ecstasy of bliss. And she knew the answer. 
 
 "Yes, I have met her," he continued; "the great day is here. I 
 have met her now." 
 
 For a time they were both silent. She, with drooping eyes, in 
 deep thought; and he, with eyes filled with the soul of adoration, wor 
 shiping as he alone can worship who knows he has found his own. 
 
 "And what was your other ambition?" she asked presently, but 
 with a desire that seemed less intense, as her greatest desire had been 
 realized. 
 
The Will and The Way 83 
 
 "I have promised myself from the beginning," he replied quietly 
 and seriously, "that I should first tell her." 
 
 "Then, can you tell me?" she exclaimed, her soul aflame once 
 more, yearning to be assured again that she was "the one woman." 
 
 "Yes, I can, and to know that I can gives me more joy than a 
 million heavens could possibly contain. But I must begin at once so 
 that I can fulfill my promise to myself to tell her first." 
 
 She listened intently as he explained everything, as he outlined 
 in detail the many intricate principles and ideas of his wonderful plan; 
 and as he finished his fascinating story to her she sprang to her feet 
 and exclaimed: "Your friends say that you are the most ambitious man 
 in the world, but they have not spoken a millionth part of the truth. 
 You are the greatest man in the world. Only the greatest man could 
 conceive of such an idea, perfect such a plan, nourish such an ambition. 
 Yes," she repeated, her face beaming with a loveliness that no man 
 had ever looked upon before, "you are the greatest man in the world, 
 and I am she." 
 
 "Come," she continued; "listen. Now I will tell you why you 
 were invited here today. I have also had an ambition not two, but 
 one. It has always been my ambition to meet the most ambitious man 
 in the world. And my promise has been to myself never to look into 
 the eyes of any other man. Some years ago I told this secret to my 
 uncle, and ever since he has been looking for the most ambitious man. 
 But he never found him until yesterday, and that is why you were in 
 vited here today. And now that we understand each other, we will 
 go into the other room so you may tell my uncle of your wonderful 
 plan." 
 
 "Now tell me what you want to do, Mr. Reardon," the great 
 financier began, as the three had been seated about a small round 
 table. "I am looking for something extraordinary," he added; "so 
 naturally I am all attention." 
 
 Having received such unbounded appreciation for his plans from 
 Marguerite, Mr. Reardon had gained more confidence in his ambition 
 that he ever had before and that confidence was practically limitless 
 therefore he felt ready to proceed without hesitation, regardless of 
 the fact that every idea presented would be scrutinized most closely 
 by a man who could detect flaws with almost unerring precision. 
 
 He stated his case clearly and thoroughly, giving his reasons for 
 everything, and explaining in detail how he expected his plan to work 
 out in practical action. When he was through, there was nothing more 
 to ask, and every doubt that might have arisen in the beginning as to 
 the feasibility of his plan was dispelled completely. 
 
 "That is my ambition," he said as he had told his story for the 
 second time that afternoon; "that is what I wish to do; that is what I 
 must do; that is what I will do, and nothing in the world can stand in 
 my way." 
 
 "Nothing will want to stand in your way," Mr. Hadley exclaimed, 
 and the power of his enthusiasm was so strong that everything in the 
 room seemed to tremble from the force of his voice. 
 
84 The Will and The Way 
 
 "Mr. Reardon," he continued, "do you know what the world will 
 say when they hear of this plan? I will tell you. Be prepared for it, 
 and remember what I say. You will be looked upon as the greatest 
 man in the world. You will be honored as none are honored today. 
 You will be received everywhere in preference to the greatest kings 
 and the most powerful monarchs. You will stand away above them 
 all, but you will stand precisely where you deserve to stand." 
 
 For a moment they were all silent, and then Mr. Reardon remem 
 bered what Mrs. Whiting had said about "monarchs" when he met her 
 the first time. And he silently whispered to himself: "How interest 
 ing it will be to understand the mystery of it all." 
 
 "Nothing but a wonderful mind, an extraordinary mind, a truly 
 great mind," continued Mr. Hadley, "could possibly conceive of such 
 an idea or work out such a plan." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Hadley; thank you a million times for your 
 kind appreciation," Mr. Reardon replied, almost choking with emo 
 tion; "but do you know," he added with animation, "that when you 
 are intensely ambitious to do a certain thing, the force of that ambition 
 will build up your mind more and more until you become great enough 
 to do it?" 
 
 "No, that is a new thought to me. But it looks sound." 
 
 "It is sound, Mr. Hadley. And if you will investigate you will 
 find the evidence in its favor to be overwhelming." 
 
 "Yes, that looks all right. And if it is true, it is one of the greatest 
 discoveries that was ever made. But tell me, Mr. Reardon, did you 
 perfect your plan in the beginning, or did you perfect it gradually?" 
 
 "At first I had only some vague ideas, with no definite plan as to 
 their application; but I became ambitious to perfect those ideas and 
 apply them. Then I found that the more ambitious I became, the 
 stronger became the force of my ambition; and as my ambition grew 
 my ideas became clearer. Then my mind reached a point where it 
 gained the power to conceive a plan for the application of these ideas; 
 and from that time on, I knew definitely what I wanted to do. But 
 the next step was to find a way to get my plan and my work before the 
 world. I tried several years to find that way. The reason 1 failed was 
 because the force of my ambition had not developed all the essentials 
 to real success. Now, however, I am convinced that this has been 
 done, and there is no reason for further delay." 
 
 "I see very clearly, Mr. Reardon, that you are an excellent exam 
 ple of what you have said concerning the force of ambition, and its 
 power to make a man great enough to realize his ambition, and as I 
 think of it, I can think of almost any number of similar examples. 
 Though the reason, I suppose, that you have developed such a mar 
 velous mind is because the force of your ambition was stronger than 
 that of the others. You have been more ambitious than the rest." 
 
 "But any man can be more ambitious than I am." 
 
 "Possibly so. That is a matter, however, that each man is at 
 liberty to prove. We need not discuss it further just now. The next 
 
The Will and The Way 85 
 
 move for us is to get your plan before the world. And do you know, 
 Mr. Reardon, that there are millions in it?" 
 
 "1 always knew there was. Though the fact that it will add so 
 richly to the welfare and the happiness of the world is of more impor 
 tance to me." 
 
 "You could not think otherwise, my boy. It is in you to feel that 
 way. And that is the principal reason why the world will love you 
 so well. Those who do great things for gain will soon be forgotten, 
 but those who do great things because they have human good at heart 
 can never be forgotten so long as there is a single soul alive. But 
 coming down to the practical side of the matter, any capitalist would 
 give you several million dollars for a part interest in your plan. I will 
 give you five million for a half interest and close the transaction today. 
 Though if you wish to wait for a larger offer, do so. You are almost 
 certain to get it." 
 
 "No, Mr. Hadley, I want you to be with me in this great work. 
 There are many reasons; and one of them is" but he said no more. 
 His eyes were upon his beautiful Marguerite, and the great financier 
 understood. 
 
 "What is the first thing you want to do?" Mr. Hadley inquired, 
 as they were all preparing to go home. 
 
 "It will be necessary," Mr. Reardon replied, "for me to visit sev 
 eral of the largest cities of this country. This tour will require three 
 or four months. When I return, I will have everything we need, and 
 the work can begin." 
 
 "Do you intend to go alone?" Mr. Hadley inquired with a tone 
 of suspicion in his voice. 
 
 "I would rather not," said Mr. Reardon as he turned again to 
 Marguerite. And as he beheld those deep brown eyes, so full of ten 
 derness and soul, he knew he would not go alone. 
 
 XVI 
 
 "Tell me all you know, Mrs. Whiting. What has happened 
 since I ve been gone?" 
 
 "Almost everything that you can think of, Mr. Reardon." 
 
 "And where is Cyril Janos?" 
 
 "Nobody knows. He has gone into seclusion in some Western 
 city for the purpose of conducting several thousand psychological ex 
 periments. He made a remarkable discovery in chemistry about six 
 months ago, and he recently sold it for a half a million dollars. With 
 that money he is going to devote three or four years to experiments. 
 His object is to demonstrate exactly the effect of every thought and 
 emotion upon the human body. When he is through he says he will 
 be able to tell precisely what thoughts to think to stay well, what 
 thoughts to think to stay young and what thoughts to think to produce 
 any desired condition in the body." 
 
 "Wonderful!" 
 
 "Oh, but I am interested in that," declared Marguerite. 
 
86 The Will and The Way 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Whiting, "we are all interested intensely so, 
 and when Cyril Janos comes back he will bring what he promised." 
 
 "Indeed, he will," exclaimed Mrs. Whiting. "He was here the 
 evening before he went away, and he told us a great deal about the 
 different experiments he intends to conduct. But it was a feast to 
 listen to him. 1 have never heard anything so fascinating in my life." 
 
 "I wish 1 could have been present," said Mr. Reardon thought 
 fully. "We shall never forget Cyril Janos. No, not in millions of 
 years. What he has done for us can never be told." 
 
 "True," replied Mr. Whiting, "but wait till he returns. He is 
 going to give the results of his experiments everything to the daily 
 press. Then we shall all know what the power of mind over body 
 really means." 
 
 "It will mean a new age, will it not?" said Marguerite, her soulful 
 eyes giving expression to a thousand times more than her tongue could 
 tell. 
 
 "And that reminds me of the greatest book of the year," resumed 
 Mrs. Whiting, "or more truthfully, the greatest book of modern times, 
 The Vision of the Soul. Of course everybody has read it." 
 
 "Yes, Marguerite and 1 have not only read the book," exclaimed 
 Mr. Reardon, with his usual enthusiasm, "but we have met the author." 
 
 "Oh, have you, indeed? Tell me about him, and I will tell you 
 something something that will be real news the very best of news." 
 
 "Thank you, Mrs. Whiting, I certainly shall, if you mean to recip 
 rocate so generously. But he is a splendid man; a wonderful man. 1 
 would call him perfect in body, mind and soul. Handsome and bril 
 liant. And much more. He has found those finer things in life that 
 we have talked about so many times; and he shows it in his personality, 
 in his conduct, in every movement he makes, in everything he says or 
 does." 
 
 "I am so glad," exclaimed Mrs. Whiting, every atom in her being 
 alive with attention. 
 
 "There is only one fault that his friends find with him," said 
 Marguerite. 
 
 "And what is that, please?" 
 
 "They say he lives too much in the clouds. They say, for that rea 
 son, he will never do things. 
 
 "And they call that a fault. They are not friends. They are 
 simply acquaintances. But how old is he?" 
 
 "Twenty-four." 
 
 "Only twenty-four, and has already written that remarkable book 
 a book that is selling so fast that his publishers are months behind 
 in their orders. And he will never do things. He has done more 
 already than all of those acquaintances put together." 
 
 "You are right, Mrs. Whiting Melville tells me you always are 
 those are my views in the matter exactly. But people as a rule don t 
 think that anyone can make money who lives in the clouds." 
 
 "I know they do, but I would rather live in the clouds on ten 
 dollars a week than be a mere animal man at a million a year." 
 
The Will and The Way 87 
 
 ! 
 
 "Splendidly stated, Mrs. Whiting, splendidly stated," exclaimed 
 Marguerite. "Oh, but I am going to love you," she added as she 
 sprang to Mrs. Whiting s side and embraced her vigorously. 
 
 "I agree," began Mr. Whiting in his calm but powerful tone. 
 "But there is another side to the question. There are some people 
 living in the clouds who never do things and who never gain things. 
 Not all, however, are in that position. People who live in the clouds 
 usually secure the best that there is upon earth, and especially when 
 they keep close watch on everything taking place upon earth." 
 
 "That solves the matter," declared Mr. Reardon. "Have your 
 home in the clouds, but have your workshop a little farther down." 
 
 "And now may we have that extra good news?" asked Mar 
 guerite. 
 
 "You may. Adeline is engaged. Her own has come. And 
 who do you think he is ? The very man we have been talking about. 
 The man who wrote The Vision of the Soul. Their wedding day is 
 near at hand." 
 
 "Thank God!" exclaimed Mr. Reardon. "Oh, but I should like 
 to shout for joy. Splendid news, Mrs. Whiting. Splendid news. 
 What an ideal couple. They are exactly made for each other. And 
 that they should meet. Wonderful! Wonderful! That s the name 
 for it." 
 
 "Yes, I wrote to Adeline yesterday that Mr. Whiting and myself 
 would have the rare pleasure to entertain a bride and groom tonight 
 Mr. Reardon and his adorable Marguerite. And now I must write her 
 again and tell her what you have said. Oh, but it will make her 
 happy." 
 
 "And she deserves all the happiness that comes to her," Mr. 
 Reardon mused thoughtfully. "Though she will want for nothing in 
 that respect. But then that is true of us all. Some great changes 
 have taken place, have they not, Mr. Whiting, since first we met?" 
 
 "Yes, I frequently think of it, but I seldom say much about it, 
 for words are wholly inadequate. All I can say is, we have found 
 the way, and it works." 
 
 "True," said Mrs. Whiting quietly, "it has worked wonderfully 
 in our circle of friends. Not one exception to the rule. They have 
 all realized much, and they are all on the way to realize more." 
 
 "Tell us about Mildred," exclaimed Mr. Reardon. "Did she 
 find the best man in the world?" 
 
 "She did. She is now Mrs. Chesterton, and you could not possi 
 bly find a happier woman." 
 
 "But it was wonderful how she changed after she became your 
 friend, Mrs. Whiting. She looked like a wilted flower at first; and 
 then within a few months she looked like a highly-bred rose in full 
 bloom." 
 
 "Yes, it was wonderful; though any girl who would be just as 
 apt a pupil as Mildred could do the same." 
 
 "I believe that, Mrs. Whiting, if you were the teacher." 
 
88 The Will and The Way 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Reardon. But anyone can teach as well as I 
 do if their desire to live what they know is just as strong as their desire 
 to impart what they know." 
 
 "How beautiful and how true," declared Marguerite. "But tell 
 us more about Mildred." 
 
 "I will do better than that. I will have you meet her very soon. 
 Then after you have met her 1 will ask her to show you one of her 
 last year s pictures. You would never believe it was the same girl." 
 
 "And what was it principally that produced the transformation?" 
 
 "It was the new philosophy of life in general, and the sweetly 
 expressive smile in particular. Mildred is always singing in her soul, 
 How soon a smile of God can change the world ; and she has entered 
 so beautifully into that smile that she actually looks like that smile. All 
 her friends call her the smile of God, and that is exactly what she is." 
 
 "Then she must have more friends than she can number." 
 
 "That is literally the truth. And what is so beautiful, all her 
 friends are fast becoming as sweet as she. They are becoming so 
 imbued with the sunshine of her soul that they actually reflect the 
 same wonderful smile. You will love her, Marguerite. Oh, but she 
 is a jewel." 
 
 "Excuse me for changing the subject," interrupted Mr. Reardon, 
 "but do you know what Mr. Warren has accomplished?" 
 
 "To begin with, he married Lillian Strong, which was a small 
 feat by no means. Lillian would not have an ordinary man. She 
 wanted someone who could make history, and she realized her wish. 
 Mr. Warren has already inaugurated his great movement, and as he is 
 fully competent to carry it through, his work will soon be felt in nearly 
 every home in the civilized world." 
 
 "1 am convinced," Mr. Whiting added, "that he will accomplish 
 more in ten years than all reform movements and all philanthropic 
 endeavors combined could accomplish in five centuries. And my 
 reason for such a far-reaching statement is that Mr. Warren will aim 
 to remove the cause of social ills. His movement will not waste cen 
 turies of time and barrels of gold trying to appease the effects while 
 the causes still remain. And I also wish to say that his method for 
 removing the cause of human ills is effective. It has been tried and it 
 works." 
 
 "There is no doubt about that," replied Mr. Reardon. "And Mr. 
 Warren can praise the day he had his first and only argument with 
 Mrs. Whiting. Do you realize, Mrs. Whiting, what you are doing 
 upon this planet? Have you ever tried to measure with your mind 
 the amount of happiness you have already created? The thought of 
 it must make you weep for joy every day of your life." 
 
 "No, 1 never think of it. If you would do the greatest good 
 and have the greatest joy, do what you can at all times and in all 
 places. Then forget what you have done by giving your whole at 
 tention to the doing of something still better." 
 
 "Oh, but your sentiments are so beautiful, Mrs. Whiting, and 
 
The Will and The Way 39 
 
 your thoughts so lofty and strong. How I wish that I could think 
 those same wonderful thoughts." 
 
 "But you can, Marguerite; and the very fact that you desire 
 such thoughts proves that you have a mind that is ready to give them 
 expression." 
 
 "I am so glad to hear you say that. To think great thoughts 
 and beautiful thoughts has been one of my most cherished desires 
 ever since I was a little girl." 
 
 "Then you will realize your desire. You know you are yet a 
 very young girl. You are just beginning real life." 
 
 "Yes, I am only twenty, but I feel as if I have lived many times 
 as long as that." 
 
 "That proves that you are a great soul, Marguerite. All great 
 souls live many years in one." 
 
 "Thank you, Mrs. Whiting, I want to be true to my dreams. 
 That is the only way, is it not?" 
 
 "Yes, it is. Be true to the dream, and the dream will come 
 true." 
 
 "Beautiful, again. Wonderful!" 
 
 "And I am thinking this very minute of a man," said Mr. Whit 
 ing, "who would agree most decidedly with that splendid statement." 
 
 "You are thinking of Mr. Spaulding, are you not?" inquired 
 Reardon. 
 
 "I am. His is another name that will go down in history. He 
 had a dream, or what some would call an idea, that was too intan 
 gible to be practicable. But he was true to that dream, and the 
 dream came true." 
 
 "Have you any idea, Mr. Whiting, what his invention is worth?" 
 
 "No, I have not. He has been offered fabulous sums for the 
 patent, but he will not dispose of it. He wishes to retain control of 
 its manufacture and sale so that the consumer may be benefited to 
 the fullest extent. You know his invention will reduce the price of 
 light, heat and power to one-tenth of what it is now, and Mr. Spauld 
 ing wants the price to be brought down to that one-tenth instead of 
 to simply one-half, as might be the case if others gained control of 
 his patent." 
 
 "Has he organized his company?" 
 
 "Yes, and the plant will be in operation within a few months." 
 
 "You may possibly be asked to assume management of the con 
 cern, Mr. Whiting." 
 
 "I have been asked, and I have accepted." 
 
 "With a decided increase in salary, of course." 
 
 "Two and a half times as much as I am receiving now." 
 
 "You deserve it, Mr. Whiting. And I am glad, far more than 
 I can ever say. Yours was the first hand to lead me out of darkness, 
 failure and despair. You pointed to me the way the way that has 
 made you what you are, the way that has made us all what we are, 
 the way that can make every man what he wishes to be. And know 
 ing this, there can be no end to my appreciation and my gratitude. 
 
90 
 
 The Will and The Way 
 
 But I will not try to express my feelings in words. I will act, I will 
 do, I will be. 1 will make of myself what you told me in the begin 
 ning was possible with all men. I will be true to the dream and all 
 of that dream will come true. Much of it has already come true, 
 and 1 know that the rest will also come true. I have realized my 
 two ambitions. You told me that I would. You told me that all 
 men could do the same. And you spoke the truth. In the beginning 
 1 believed. Now I know." 
 
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