I was entertained in New York, last winter, at the home of a Christian Scientist who was endeavoring to inculcate the principles of Christian Science in her little five-year-old Walter. He was a bright, winsome little fellow who seemed to grasp the Spirit of the new thought, and bring it into daily practice. The Scientific Statement of Being formed his evening prayer, and was as devoutly uttered as ever his "Now I lay me" had been.
His mamma, having occasion one day to reprove him, said: "Walter, don't let mamma ever hear of your doing that again." "Why not?" asked he. "Because it's mortal mind." A simple "Oh," was the only response. Mortal mind to him meant all that was naughty, impolite or unkind; and hence here was sufficient reason why the offence should not be repeated.
One morning, while sitting at the open window watching him playing in the street, I saw him fall. Getting up, he brushed the dirt from his clothes, saying to himself: "All is Mind, and it isn't any matter." He had caught the thought of God's ever-presence and care of him, although the words were a trifle mixed.
