dirt gives no uneasiness. It is the native element of such a mind, symbolized but not chafed by its surroundings; but impurity and uncleanliness, which do not affect the gross, could not be borne by the refined.
We need a clean body and a clean mind, — a body rendered pure by Mind, not by matter. One says, “I take good care of my body.” No doubt he attends to it with as much care as he would to the grooming of his horse; and possibly the animal sensation of scrubbing has more meaning, to such a man, than the pure and exalting influence of Mind; but the Scientist takes the best care of his body when he leaves it most out of his thought, and, like the Apostle Paul, is “willing rather to be absent from the body, and present with the Lord.”
John Quincy Adams presents an instance of firm health and adherence to hygienic rules, but there are few others. The tobacco-user, eating or smoking poison for half a century, sometimes tells you that the weed preserves his health; but does this make it so? Does his assertion prove the use of tobacco to be a salubrious habit, and man the better for it? Such instances only prove the illusive physical effect of a belief, confirming the Scriptural conclusion, “As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.”
The generous liver may object to my small estimate of the pleasures of the table. The sinner will see that, in the system I teach, the demands of God must be met. The small intellect is alarmed at my exclusive appeals to Mind, and the licentious disposition is discouraged ever its slight spiritual prospects. When all are bidden
