The inner secret

Front matter

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Contents

Chapter Page

I. Surprises . i

II. “The Grand Point”. 9

CHAPTER I. Surprises

As soon as Beatrice was fully settled in her room at the hotel, her steamer trunks unpacked and the lessonsermon read for the day she decided to occupy the afternoon by walking up the avenue a few blocks to a large building where one of the city’s Christian Science reading rooms used to be located before her long absence from American shores.

She vividly enjoyed the walk through the crisp April air, the throngs of happy shoppers and the gay appearance of everything and everybody,—for, where she had been, war and famine, pestilence and death had left their unmistakable traces upon the very land¬ scape. Yet after a little, as the realization swept over her again of the hundreds of thousands who were starving in Europe and Asia, it seemed to her that she must call out and stop the sleek, well-groomed women entering the fashionable tea-rooms for an utterly superfluous meal.

But she reassured herself by repeating the well known sentences from Mrs. Eddy’s book, “Science and Health,” “Divine Love always has met and al¬ ways will meet every human need.” “Of course I l don’t pretend to understand it,” she thought. “I couldn’t see that it met the need of those poor Arme¬ nian refugees fleeing from the Turks, only in so far as some hand extended by the Relief Workers gave them the help. What can it really mean? It must be TF APPLIED.’ But then, I can’t expect to under¬ stand the mysteries of metaphysics. I asked a teacher once what that sentence meant and I will confess— just to myself—that he gave me no satisfactory ex¬ planation. He just floundered around.”

The crowds increased as she turned into the cross¬ town thoroughfare where the building containing the reading room was located. As she noticed the tense, strained expression on some of the faces, the heavy, discouraged, sagging lines on some others, again she thought, “How has Divine Love met their need? I don’t understand!” Then there flashed through her mind a quotation from her beloved text-book, which had been in the Lesson she had just been reading (page 490) “The Science of Mind needs to be under¬ stood. Until it is understood, mortals are more or less deprived of Truth.” “That is it,” she mentally exclaimed. “These people here and those over there don’t understand the Science of Mind.” Then, like a flash, came the sharp query, “Do I understand it?” Before she could frame a reply she found herself

SURPRISES 3

entering the building and stepping into one of the elevators. She suddenly recalled the fact that a prac¬ titioner of Christian Science whom she had found extremely helpful upon her visits to the city also had his office in this building. She resolved to go to see him, ask him some questions, and give a brief report of her sojourn in foreign lands (although they no longer seemed “foreign” to her, but just neighbor lands) and to feel his warm welcome home.

The reading room had a dozen or more visitors, mostly reading their lessons. As Beatrice approached one of the tables she felt an unfamiliar something about the place. What was it? Everywhere there were black books, familiar enough, with their gold seal on the covers. She puckered her brows. What was it? Well, never mind. She would sit down in a big chair with a copy of the Christian Science Journal and look it over, for she had not seen one for six months.

But she could not find any Journals,—nor any Sentinels. Perplexed she stepped to a table, picked up a black book and read the title, “Unity of Good, by Mary Baker Eddy.” Yes, she must be in the right place. She would get a Monitor and read that. But there were no Monitors! Determined to investigate, she returned to the ante-room where an attendant stood ready to serve possible customers. Beatrice stepped up to the counter and remarked pleasantly, “It seems good to be back in a land again where there are Christian Science reading rooms. I wish to buy a Journal, please,” and placed thirty cents before the attendant. The latter frowned slightly as though annoyed and said, “It is quite evident you have been away and out of touch with headquarters. We do not sell, loan nor read the Christian Science Journal, so-called.” Too dumbfounded to speak at once, Beatrice simply stood and stared. Then, collecting herself, said “But then I’ll take a copy of the daily paper, the Monitor.”

“We do not carry the Monitor either. They are no longer authorized literature.”

“‘Oh,” said Beatrice, somewhat enlightened. “They have new editors and publishers?”

“Not exactly, but, nevertheless, they are not now considered the organs of the Mother Church,” and the attendant smilingly but firmly took up the thirty cents and handed it to Beatrice, who asked, “Who says they are not the organs, or are unauthorized?”

“The Church Manual.”

“Oh, a new one? A new Manual? I thought the Manual was divinely inspired, in fact Eve often been told that the same hand that wrote Science and

SURPRISES 5

Health wrote the Manual. And Mrs. Eddy plainly says 'no human pen or tongue taught me the Science contained in this book, Science and Health.’ So I don’t see how any one could change the Manual, and in my copy we are enjoined by a by-law to subscribe for and read the Christian Science periodicals, so—”

"My dear woman, don’t you know what has hap¬ pened? That error is attacking our church from within as well as without? Don’t you know that Armageddon is upon us? Where have you been?”

"Yes, I fancy I’ve seen Armageddon,” returned Beatrice drily. "I’ve just comb from Armenia, and before that I was in Vienna, and before that in France and Belgium.” Her blue eyes looked steadily into those of the attendant’s. "Don’t tell me I know nothing of Armageddon.”

"Well, now that you are here, let me just tell you that error’s last thrust has been at our church and our cause.”

"I wish I could believe it was error’s last thrust. You haven’t been fleeing from Turks and Kurds, I take it.”

"Let me give you a bit of timely advice. Go to a loyal practitioner and learn what has happened while you have been away. This is no place to discuss it,” added the attendant firmly.

“I have been feeding the starving and clothing the naked and rescuing the widow and the fatherless, and now that I’ve returned home for refreshment I find I must not buy nor read the Christian Science liter¬ ature, and I am stunned. Where shall I find mental refreshment ?”

“In our leader’s writings. The whole truth is there. They do not change. They—”

“Oh, in regard to that,” interrupted Beatrice quickly, “I had with me a complete set of her books, also an old copy of Science and Health that was my mother’s. I enjoyed comparing it with the present edition.”

“‘What edition was your mother’s?” inquired the attendant quickly.

“I don’t remember that, but I know it was pub¬ lished in 1898 and had an index.” The other lady seemed to be counting on her fingers, ten, fifteen, twenty-five. Then she replied, “Well, I suppose there was no harm in that. Mrs. Eddy had thor¬ oughly revised it by that date.”

Harm in it!” ejaculated Beatrice indignantly. “No one better tell me there was harm in it. I lived in those books and the Bible through those awful months.”

The attendant quickly reassured her by saying,

SURPRISES 7

“I did not mean to convey there was any harm in studying those editions of our text-book. I spoke hastily. But here come some other people. Go and see a practitioner as I suggested to you.”

Beatrice was quite willing to do so, for her expe¬ rience in the reading room had not been at all helpful, and she felt a great sense of confusion, as she an¬ swered, “Yes, I will consult my practitioner. He used to be in this building,—Mr. Malcolm. Can you tell me the number of his office?”

“Mr. Malcolm is not a Christian Science prac¬ titioner.”

“Oh, yes. The one I refer to is, a splendid one, Mr. John Malcolm.”

“No such person is now listed. Here is the list of loyal Christian Scientists who have offices in this building,” and she handed Beatrice a framed type¬ written list of names.

“M,—M,—M,—” murmured the latter as her fin¬ ger ran down the list. “No, he isn’t here. How strange! He must have moved away! I am so sorry!”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” said the attendant gently as she waited on a gentleman who wished to purchase a Quarterly. “These are times of sifting. Choose another name. They are all loyal.”

“Loyal ?” exclaimed Beatrice quickly. “But Mr. Malcolm was one of the persons most loyal to Truth of any one I know. He even gave up his lucrative business when he caught a glimpse of the Christ- Truth. He was an importer of champagnes.”

The gentleman beside her could not help hearing the conversation and smiled encouragingly at Bea¬ trice, but the sales woman said, “Well, all I have to say is, you would better copy off some of these names. Here is a pencil.”

But Beatrice was on her way out, too surprised and confused to desire any further conversation. She had come for bread, but had not obtained it. Her one desire was to return to her room and think things out. She must calm her thought before her hus¬ band arrived for dinner, for he would not understand if she should recount her experiences of the after¬ noon. Henri was so direct and literal and analytical. She could not evade his questions. So with a pleasant “Good afternoon,” she stepped into the cor¬ ridor and pushed the elevator button. Her mind seemed whirling, and almost in a daze she passed out to the street, but her return walk down the avenue did not seem so pleasant and gay. The shoppers were not so happy, the windows did not look so at¬ tractive. They all took on the color of her mood. No Journal! No Monitor! No Mr. Malcolm.

CHAPTER II. “The Grand Point A

The hotel lobby seemed unusually crowded and Beatrice noticed a number of people entering a large room on her right. She joined them almost unthink¬ ingly and found herself listening to a radio concert —to a woman singing in Chicago. Radio and its achievements interested her mightily, especially since she had married, during her service abroad, a French- Swiss wireless expert who had rendered valuable service to the Allied Cause. He was a radio enthu¬ siast and she soon hurried to her room to tell him of the concert being given below, but he was not in yet. Her eyes fell on her Bible and Science and Health and these reminded her again of her visit to the read¬ ing room and of her disappointment in failing to find Mr. Malcolm. She had counted the days when she should be in touch with Christian Scientists again, and since Mr. Malcolm was the only one she knew in the city she was keenly disappointed not to see him.

Her husband, Henri Rochelle, was a new convert to Mrs. Eddy’s teaching, a babe in the Truth, looking to her for guidance, and she longed for a refreshing talk with a more experienced Scientist. Her teacher with whom she had studied some twelve years ago when a girl of twenty, had passed away during Bea¬ trice’s absence abroad, and Mr. Malcolm seemed to her just the one she wished to see. The list of “loyal” practitioners were all strangers to her, and now that she had come back to her native land she ardently wanted to be welcomed, welcomed, welcomed by some one she knew. Tears of disappointment were welling up when Henri opened the door.

“Have you found all your old friends,—and sweet¬ hearts, petite?” he greeted her.

“Not one, Henri, and I’m so disappointed that I don’t feel scientific at all. Everything seems terribly queer today.”

“You have been away so long that you may need to get yourself adjusted to America again. Is that it?”

“Oh, no. I just couldn’t find a friend, a Scientist, whom I want to see very much. He must have moved.”

“Didn’t you try the telephone?”

“Why no, I never thought of it. I haven’t had a telephone at my elbow for so long in Asia Minor that I stupidly forgot to try that,” and she reached at once for the directory. Again her finger ran down a list of M’s. “Malcolm, John C. S., Rm. 8oi-x” in the very same building she had visited a few hours

“THE GRAND POINT” 11

ago. She quickly called the number and in a minute found herself listening to a well known voice.

“Yes, this is Mr. John Malcolm.” How warm and loving his voice sounded!

“And I am Mrs. Henri Rochelle. You used to know me well as Beatrice Rowe. I’ve been in Europe three years and I want to see you very much.” Her voice was very eager and Mr. Malcolm caught her intense desire for an immediate interview.

“That is good news, Mrs. Rochelle. I remember you perfectly, and am so glad to hear your voice again. Can you come here this evening? I am very busy until eight-thirty, but after that the evening is yours.”

“Thanks, I shall be delighted to come. Shall I bring my husband?”

“By all means. Is he a Christian Scientist too?” inquired Mr. Malcolm.

“Yes, that is, a—a believer in it.”

“There are many such, Mrs. Rochelle,—just be¬ lievers.” But just here Henri laid a hand on his wife’s shoulder saying he had a previous engagement, so she replied, “Mr. Malcolm, my husband cannot come with me but I want him to have a talk with you tomorrow if possible. Our stay in the city will be brief as we must go to my home in Stratford where my aunt is expecting us to visit her during our stay

in the United States.”

Secretly Beatrice was relieved that Henri was not to be present at her talk with Mr. Malcolm, for her mind was so confused that she wanted first of all to get her thought calmed down, her many questions raised by that afternoon’s experiences answered, and to feel that she was again on her feet. Henri had a direct way of asking her questions as he would ask them of an electrician, and she could not always give him satisfactory answers. So she felt it would be much better for Henri to accompany her on the fol¬ lowing day, when Mr. Malcolm’s talk would be more generally and better suited to Henri’s needs. She must not tell him of any discord in the Christian Science church. In fact, she could not yet believe there was any. It was unthinkable.

“I am sorry that I had to plead a prior engagement, petite, but these gentlemen whom I called upon this afternoon have made arrangements to take me with them to Newark tonight. I was distressed at the thought of leaving you alone on our first evening in America, but this was an invitation and an oppor¬ tunity I could not afford to miss. I am amazed at the general way radio is being used in this country, according to these experts. Marconi may have dis-

‘‘THE GRAND POINT” 13

covered, or made practical, wireless communication by ether waves, but your countrymen are developing it and popularizing it in a way we Europeans haven’t dreamed of doing yet.”

“Oh, yes. Uncle Sam’s boys are always on the job,” returned his wife with a twinkle. “But I am going to hear about something tonight more fascinat¬ ing and wonderful than your wireless.”

“There is a sort of similarity about them,” replied Henri as he picked up Science and Health, and opened it at random. “Listen to this from page ten: ‘A correct view of Christian Science, and its adaptation to healing, includes vastly more than is at first seen. Works on metaphysics leave the grand point un¬ touched. They never crown the mental power as the Messiah nor do they carry the day against physical enemies’.”

“Why, Henri, that doesn’t sound just right, some way. Is that the way it reads? It has an unfamiliar ring,” asserted Beatrice.

“Look for yourself,” replied her husband handing her the book. Beatrice read it carefully, her brows puckered. Then her face cleared. “Oh now I see what the matter is. You picked up Mothers old edition. Let me see how it reads in my new one.”

“What if it is an old edition,” inquired Henri. “It is by Mrs. Eddy isn’t it? And published no longer ago than 1898. Didn’t she know what Christian Sci¬ ence was, even fifty years ago?”

“Most certainly she did. She discovered it ‘through reason and revelation/ as she says, in 1866, and after nine years more of study and practice got out her first edition in 1875.” Beatrice had been searching for the same passage in her new book while talking, and now continued, “Here it is on page 116. ‘A correct view of Christian Science and of its adapta¬ tion to healing includes vastly more than is at first seen’.”

“Then she admits the possibility of having an in¬ correct view of it,” interrupted Henri, “and that one must study until one gets her viewpoint.”

“Yes, of course. Now I will go on. ‘Works on metaphysics leave the grand point untouched. They never crown the power of Mind as the Messiah, nor do they carry the day against physical enemies.’ There! I knew the way you read it didn’t sound right. You see it is ‘the power of Mind,’ Henri, Mind with a capital M. That makes all the difference.”

“Which are we to believe?” inquired her husband calmly. “She calls it ‘THE GRAND POINT,’ and intimates that the incorrect view leaves this grand

“THE GRAND POINT” 15

point untouched. I can understand how ‘the mental power’ might be used to benefit the race, even as she says ‘to carry the day against physical enemies,—even the extinction of all belief in matter, evil, disease, and death.’ But when you talk about the Mind with a capital M I am ‘all at sea,’ as your saying is.”

“Oh, Henry! It is God alone who does the healing and we always spell his name with a capital, of course.”

“Well, what about ‘the mental power’ being the Messiah? There it is in cold print.”

“I really don’t know, but I know we only reflect God. It is plain enough.”

“Not to me, Beatrice. God is Mind, you say, do you not?”

“Yes, that is one of His names.”

“Oh! I thought it was His nature, not His name. I thought God is Mind. So Mind is God.”

“Yes,” she replied somewhat confused. “But, Henri, He is His own divine Mind, not ours. We are just reflections. Can’t you see?”

Henri shook his head. “No. Haven’t we any minds at all? I know I have.”

“Well, of course, we think, but—we have no sep¬ arate minds from God,” asserted Beatrice stoutly.

“That is just what I maintain. He is our mind, and our mind is God—or will be when we know

enough. Is that what you mean?”

“No—o. That doesn’t sound exactly right either. Oh, dear! I want you to have a good talk with Mr. Malcolm tomorrow without fail. He will straighten you out.”

“How about you, petite? I think you need a little straightening, yourself,” replied her husband with an amused smile.

“I? Oh, no, indeed. I have studied with an au¬ thorized teacher, and I am satisfied, that is, quite so!”

“How do you Americans use that word ‘quite’? Has it two meanings?”

“Why, yes, I suppose so. I mean I understand, or am moderately, or almost, satisfied.” Beatrice was compelled to laugh out at the look on her husband’s face as he remarked, “That may suit you, but you know I am of a scientific turn of mind and have had that kind of training, so be patient with me. Now, to me, radio is much simpler to comprehend than your explanation of Christian Science.”

“Well, but Henri, I know the fault is all mine. You can get it all from Science and Health. That is the text-book.”

“Yes, I know. But I hope your Mr. Malcolm can really explain the text-book to me. I cannot see

“THE GRAND POINT” 17

it! I don’t just want to believe it. I must understand it. I really think, Beatrice, you only believe it.”

“Oh, I do believe it with all my heart. You must swallow it, Henri. That is the way I did.”

“What if I studied electricity that way, when I didn’t understand it?” replied Henri, pacing the floor. “If I only believed in radio I couldn’t even pretend to demonstrate it. You can’t prove a belief. You even told me the other day you didn’t overcome sea¬ sickness, that some way you didn’t seem to be able to demonstrate Christian Science as well as you did ten years ago. I should be pretty well discouraged if I had to admit that about radio ten years hence.”

“Henri!” she cried in alarm. “You aren’t going back on Science, are you?”

“Never! One of my main reasons for absenting myself so long from my own country, is to learn here in the land of its birth whether Christian Science is science or not. I believe it is,—but I can’t prove it by you, Beatrice. Truth, science, is capable of proof, and when you tell me God is mind, His own mind, but we are not mind, yet we think; that Mind is God, yet not our mind, still there is but one mind, I am all at sea. Then where do mortal mind, and im¬ mortal Mind and the human mind and the mind of animals come in?”

“Henri, I wish you would wait and not ask me any more questions till I have seen Mr. Malcolm. I am afraid you are wandering into the mazes of mortal mind by asking all these questions.”

“Mrs. Eddy says there just isn’t any such thing, in reality.”

“But there does seem to be,” wailed Beatrice. “ I feel now as if that is what I am. And you, you are just a big question mark!”

“I am, exactly that. And now let’s go down stairs and I will question you still further. What do you want for dinner?”

CHAPTER III. Capital “M.”

A few hours later as Henri left his wife at the elevator in Mr. Malcolm’s building and hurried on, she suddenly recalled the words of the reading room attendant: “Mr. Malcolm is not a Christian Science practitioner.” As the elevator began to glide swiftly upward her eyes caught a fleeting glimpse of the building’s wall directory and standing out from the other names as though they were letters of flame she read: “John Malcolm, C. S. Room 8oi-x.” It must have been there in the afternoon when she scanned it to find what floor the reading room was on. “Truly, having eyes we see not,” she thought. Then again came over her a slight doubt in regard to Mr. Mal¬ colm. What did that lady mean by saying he was not a loyal practitioner? Well, she would soon find out. But could she? Was her understanding sufficient to discern disloyal traits, when even Henri could floor her in an argument on the subject? Her joy was dimmed, and a little frown lingered as she stepped out at the eighth floor and read the superscription on Mr. Malcolm’s door. Evidently he still considered himself a Christian Scientist.

Mr. Malcolm’s door opened and a gentleman came out, and as he passed Beatrice he gave her a slight bow and a smile of recognition. It was the man who bought the Quarterly while she was talking with the reading room attendant. So he knew Mr. Malcolm too!

She was greeted most cordially by her old friend and as she took a seat he looked at her keenly and asked, “What are you thinking to cause that per¬ plexed frown?” She did not answer at once, instead, looked at the books on his desk. Yes, these surely were Mrs. Eddy’s books, but there were no Journals nor Sentinels. She looked up at him, then broke into a laugh as she caught his expression. “You feel better, now, don’t you?” he asked, looking signif¬ icantly at the books. “You see I am still studying those, in spite of what they told you.”

“Why, how in the world did you know I had been in the reading room inquiring for you?”

He laughed again, but his laugh was full of love, without any sharp edge to it. “So many others have done so and have been told that I am not a Christian Scientist any more, that when they finally find me, their puzzled, wondering expression has been exactly like yours. I recognized it at once.”

“Yes, I asked for you, also for a Journal. That gentleman who left your office as I entered was there too and bought a Quarterly. I see they sell those still.” Mr. Malcolm gave a little chuckle and ex¬ claimed, “So you were the good missionary!”

“Missionary?” queried Beatrice in surprise.

“Yes. That gentleman heard some of your con¬ versation about me while getting his Quarterly at the desk, and became interested at once. I think you said I had been an importer of wines and champagnes, but had given it up for the Christian Science practice. He tells me it made his blood rise hotly to hear me branded disloyal, so he came at once to my office, asked for an interview which I couldn’t grant him till just now—I was too busy at the moment—and now he is greatly interested in what I had to tell him and has asked me to treat his wife. And so they come, hungry and thirsty.”

“I am very glad something good came out of my visit to the reading room. I noticed that gentleman smiled at me when I was defending you.’

“Yes, he too was looking for a practitioner, and being an independent thinker liked what you said about me, in spite of my being blacklisted. Mr. Fox, that is his name, is also staying at your hotel with his wife.”

“How splendid! I shall look them up first thing in the morning.”

“Yes, do,” returned Mr. Malcolm warmly. “They have no friends in the city. They are from Cali¬ fornia and are on their way to Boston to look into things there. You may have heard of the upheaval at the headquarters of the Mother Church.”

“Very little, next to nothing,” replied Beatrice, settling back comfortably in her chair. “Tell me all about it/

“I will just say there has been appalling discord and it has spread over the entire field. In conse¬ quence of this, people are inquiring as never before, ‘What IS truth?’ ‘What and where is God?’ or ‘Why can I not make as good demonstrations as I could five, ten, twenty years ago?’ ‘What is author¬ ized literature, what is authority, is it vested in per¬ son or principle, in an organization with its Boards or is it vested in Truth, herself?’ ”

“Why, those things are just the things I want to ask. My husband believes there is much in Christian Science, but he unsettles me sometimes with his questions.”

Mr. Malcolm smiled gently and asked, “What is your husband’s business or profession, may I ask? I mean what sort of training has he had?”

“He is an electrical engineer, but has specialized in wireless and radio.”

“Good! A training of that sort is a great help. He has a scientific turn of mind, I take it. He wants to be an understander of Christian Science and not a mere believer. ,, And Mr. Malcolm nodded his head approvingly.

“Why, that is just what he says. He says I am a believer,” laughed Beatrice.

“That is very probable. I want to meet that hus¬ band of yours, Mrs. Rochelle. Bring him in tomor¬ row at two if convenient and I will reserve an hour for him—and you.”

“Thanks, you would better include me. Henri says I need straightening out as well as he. We will surely come. But those questions—Won’t you tell me first about the trouble at Boston, and then answer the others one by one?”

He smilingly shook his head. “No, I am not going to use up this hour, this golden opportunity to learn more of Truth, by relating and recounting that dis¬ cord. It doesn’t concern me now, and error is best forgotten. And the way to forget it is not to talk about it. I will just say for your enlightenment that it concerned various ways of interpreting and enforc¬ ing the by-laws in the church manual, which Mrs. Eddy plainly stated in its preface are ‘not arbitrary opinions nor dictatorial demands, such as one person might impose upon another.They spring from

necessity, the logic of events.’ As for the questions —can you not answer them satisfactorily to yourself?”

“No, frankly I cannot. I read my lesson, say the Lord’s prayer, and the Scientific Statement of Being, —but I don’t seem to grow much,—if any.”

“Well, well. What a pity! for growth is a law of Nature. But you told me a short time ago that you were a believer. That is where the whole trouble lies. We don’t grow in belief. We may change our beliefs. But we can only grow in understanding. 'With all thy getting, get understanding,’ said the wise man.”