left a vacancy. They made one fatal mistake; they all made it, each in
his turn: they failed to organize their forces, they failed to centralize
their strength, they failed to provide a fresh Bible and a sure and
perpetual cash income for business, and often they failed to provide a
new and accepted Divine Personage to worship.
Mrs. Eddy is not of that small fry. The materials that go to the making
of the rest of her portrait will prove it. She will furnish them
herself:
She published her book. She copyrighted it. She copyrights everything.
If she should say, “Good-morning; how do you do?” she would copyright it;
for she is a careful person, and knows the value of small things.
She began to teach her Science, she began to heal, she began to gather
converts to her new religion–fervent, sincere, devoted, grateful people.
A year or two later she organized her first Christian Science
“Association,” with six of her disciples on the roster.
She continued to teach and heal. She was charging nothing, she says,
although she was very poor. She taught and healed gratis four years
altogether, she says.
Then, in 1879-81 she was become strong enough, and well enough
established, to venture a couple of impressively important moves. The
first of these moves was to aggrandize the “Association” to a “Church.”
Brave? It is the right name for it, I think. The former name suggests
nothing, invited no remark, no criticism, no inquiry, no hostility; the
new name invited them all. She must have made this intrepid venture on
her own motion. She could have had no important advisers at that early
day. If we accept it as her own idea and her own act–and I think we
must–we have one key to her character. And it will explain subsequent
acts of hers that would merely stun us and stupefy us without it. Shall
we call it courage? Or shall we call it recklessness? Courage observes;
reflects; calculates; surveys the whole situation; counts the cost,
estimates the odds, makes up its mind; then goes at the enterprise
resolute to win or perish. Recklessness does not reflect, it plunges
fearlessly in with a hurrah, and takes the risks, whatever they may be,
regardless of expense. Recklessness often fails, Mrs. Eddy has never
failed–from the point of view of her followers. The point of view of
other people is naturally not a matter of weighty importance to her.
The new Church was not born loose-jointed and featureless, but had a
defined plan, a definite character, definite aims, and a name which was a
challenge, and defied all comers. It was “a Mind-healing Church.” It
was “without a creed.” Its name, “The Church of Christ, Scientist.”
Mrs. Eddy could not copyright her Church, but she chartered it, which was
the same thing and relieved the pain. It had twenty-six charter members.
Mrs. Eddy was at once installed as its pastor.
The other venture, above referred to, was Mrs. Eddy’s Massachusetts
Metaphysical College, in which was taught “the pathology of spiritual
power.” She could not copyright it, but she got it chartered. For
faculty it had herself, her husband of the period (Dr. Eddy), and her
adopted son, Dr. Foster-Eddy. The college term was “barely three
weeks,” she says. Again she was bold, brave, rash, reckless–choose for
yourself–for she not only began to charge the student, but charged him a
hundred dollars a week for the enlightenments. And got it? some may
ask. Easily. Pupils flocked from far and near. They came by the
hundred. Presently the term was cut down nearly half, but the price
remained as before. To be exact, the term-cut was to seven lessons–
price, three hundred dollars. The college “yielded a large income.”
This is believable. In seven years Mrs. Eddy taught, as she avers, over
four thousand students in it. (Preface to 1902 edition of Science and
Health.) Three hundred times four thousand is–but perhaps you can cipher
it yourself. I could do it ordinarily, but I fell down yesterday and
hurt my leg. Cipher it; you will see that it is a grand sum for a woman
to earn in seven years. Yet that was not all she got out of her college