NOWHERE else as in Christian Science, where God is recognized and acknowledged as the absolute source of all supply, do we find such keen appreciation of the law of compensation. We are all familiar with the old adage, "There is no great loss without some small gain," but we often find a variation of this to be true, that there is no small loss without some great gain. The understanding of this law of compensation is a liberal education in itself, for it broadens and deepens our faculties for perceiving the truth of things and leads us to act at critical moments in such a way that we go forward on the "tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." When we come to this comprehension in such a degree that we are able to determine immediately between truth and error, we hesitate more and more seldom to give up, to put from us absolutely, to refuse even to consider, the seeming opportunities for material advancement that have in them the slightest question as to their perfect freedom from dishonorableness, selfishness, or sin, because we then know that by this same law of requital our seeming temporary loss will be more than made up to us.
Often the opening that offers sudden relief from the bondage of poverty has, lurking behind a fair exterior, unseen evils which impose the loss of self-respect, of honor, of all the high virtues, in the fulfilling of the conditions necessary to obtain the promised freedom. To those with clear spiritual sight there is vouchsafed not only a glimpse, but a look within these beckoning portals, and they see through the thin veil within and turn away, saddened for the instant by the half-concealed horrors of the place, but joyful and glad because they have the God-given power to recognize the truth in all things and to discern good from evil. To these the power of wealth as something to be desired for the mere sake of possession, or for the sake of the seeming chains it might break for them, regardless of the means by which it is to be obtained, ceases to be a temptation, because they realize that there is a higher wealth of purity of thought and life, a richness of honor, a prosperity of right doing to which no amount of money or material possessions can be equivalent.
When, to those who walk in spiritually high places, the time comes to choose between diverging paths, they are able to see through the mists which overhang and envelop human consciousness, and to perceive that the. way which seems so fair, which seems to give immediate access to higher altitudes, more often than not leads to a temporary higher ground only to descend again, down through its tortuous windings, to places of darkness and evil; while the footpath that seems to offer less in immediate prospect, leads ever onward and upward, by gradual degrees, to the Horeb heights of Soul, with tender, beautiful flowers blossoming beside it in hidden nooks, with refreshing waters of inspiration springing forth among the rocks over and around which it offers a sure passage.
The problem of each individual is unique. What presents temptation in its most subtle form to one person is so much dust and nothingness to another. What appeals to one as beautiful is in the eyes of another quite ugly. The craving for wealth and fame, and for the possession of the power to achieve which underlies the desire for celebrity, may hold nothing for one and everything for another. There may be one to whom the siren of this desire for renown calls, "Come! Follow me! Devote your time and energy to traveling in my train. I have much with which to reward you, and it does not matter if you do give up a fraction of your conception of honor, of your innate purity, of your high ideals, to bring about the result you wish, since that is the main thing to be considered."
He listens. He sees the fair picture of the prospect outlined by this Circe's speech. He dreams of the delight with which he will serve this taskmistress for the pure joy of achieving. He sees the finished product of his hands put before the public in his name. He hears the plaudits of the multitude. He feels the touch of silver and gold that will incidentally be his. Then he pauses. If his is a mentality of lesser altitude, with only occasional glimpses of higher lands, he may not consider more. If he is accustomed now and then to indulge his desires for material benefits, regardless of consequences, he may accept the offer, only to find himself soon stranded on the rocks of bondage which he has not seen, so enchanted has he been with the sweet-sounding promises. He sees his work poorly done, because in itself it has not a worthy theme. He sees it given out, not in his name, but anonymously or perhaps in the name of another. He hears the hisses of the populace rather than their cheers. He may feel the hardness of the coin agreed upon in payment, but he senses more deeply the bitterness of the realization that he has fettered himself for material gain, and in the getting, has lost the spiritual gifts that might have been his.
On the other hand, if he is spiritually minded, though ambitious and fond of achievement, he will consider further before he decides. He may experience the same foretaste of delight in the work he expects to do, and dream of the same temporary fame and the material reward, but he will also hear again the words of the temptress: "I have much with which to reward you, and it does not matter if you do give up a fraction of your conception of honor, of your innate purity, of your high ideals, to bring about the result you wish, since that is the main thing to be considered." Then, beyond the transitory splendor of the offer, he will see the consequences, and, though he be poor, though he be ambitious, though he be desirous of fame, his spiritual nature will demand of him utter obedience to its laws, and he will turn aside and go away,—out of sound and reach of the enchanting voice that lures him, even as the sailors of Jason with their wax-closed ears turned away from the singing of Circe.
Will it be with regret? No, a thousand times. It will be with a boundless gratitude for the God-given clearness of vision that is his, and with a meek heart overflowing with pity that there are those who will allow themselves to be so used by error. He will even turn away with singing, and the words, low and sweet, heard faintly from the closet into which he enters and shuts the door on material sense, will be these:—
Whatever dims thy sense of truth,
Or stains thy purity.
Though light as breath of summer air,
Count it as sin to thee.
Christian Science Hymnal, p. 50.
Such an one is true to Science. In his consciousness there is a growing appreciation of the law of compensation. He knows that other opportunities will open up to him which he can accept without compromise. He may not know the way by which they are to come. It may be from the uttermost parts of the earth, or perhaps by the turning of a stone around the corner; but his ignorance of the channel does not disturb him, because he knows the source, God, from whom comes all good. Knowing this, and firm in his understanding of it, he travels on serenely, daily attaining to higher states of consciousness, leaving behind the mists and illusions of sense, gradually growing into the larger grasp of greater spiritual truths, which bring to him more in every way than all he gives up for the sake of right and Truth. His trust in the power of God to provide all good for him is bountifully rewarded, and the law of compensation grows daily more beautiful to him in the further realization of that great truth of the years, blazoned in our hearts and cut in the pure granite over the doors of our halls of justice, "Obedience to law is liberty."
