II
THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER

What has been related in the preceding pages is merely the prelude to my story. The story itself really begins with the account of my meeting with that remarkable individual whom I at first, half-lightly but still half-earnestly, thought of as"the mysterious stranger". This wonderful individual came into my life apparently by chance, but I now know that I had attracted him to myself, and that I had been attracted to him, by the operation of that strange and potent law of Nature known as"The Law of Attraction".

How little does the average person realize that this wonderful law is constantly manifesting in and concerning him. He notes from time to time that"things happen" in strange ways, bringing remarkable results; but he usually thinks that this is but the operation of Chance, never realizing that it is the logical result of a fixed law proceeding with an unerring and inevitable rule of action, bringing results in strict accordance with its nature—results mathematically exact and logically per- feet. Chance, in the sense of the manifestation of uncaused effects, does not exist. Chance, in the light of strict logical reasoning, is seen to be but the operation of causes unknown, and perhaps beyond knowledge, but nevertheless actually and certainly existent and operative.

* * * * *

I had journeyed to a far-distant city, where, unknown and a stranger, I was endeavoring to start life anew, hoping eventually to obtain a foothold in the business world by means of which I might by hard work and diligent endeavor finally again mount the ladder of success. I was frightfully handicapped, however, by my state of ill-health which had resulted from my financial, social, and mental troubles. The physicians consulted by me gave me but little encouragement; they warned me against overwork, and seemed to regard me as one who had but scant chance of ever again becoming efficient and vigorous.

I was filling a subordinate position, receiving but a nominal recompense for my work, and the opportunities for my advancement were but slight. The memory of my former position in the business world acted as a weight around my neck, rather than as an encouraging factor. Often I was tempted to rash action which would have ended it all—for at times the fight seemed almost hopeless, the odds all against me.

Looking back in memory to that time, I now sometimes wonder how and why I made the effort at all. It now seems to me that the tiny spark of that Something Within must have even then been glowing brightly, though hidden by the rubbish of the outer self, and that its radiations penetrated through the encumbering accumulation and inspired me with at least a glimmer of faith and of hope—I must have had an unconscious or subconscious intuition of the Truth even then. It is hard to smother with rubbish, or to quench with the water of discouragment, this tiny spark of the Real Self when once it has been kindled into superconscious awareness of itself, its powers, and its destiny.

I was living in a small"court room" in an unpretentious boarding house which sought dignity by assuming the title of a"family hotel". The establishment consisted of several large, once-fashionable, dwelling houses which had been thrown into one by means of the cutting of doors between the several houses. The neighborhood, though still respectable, was now"run down", its former fashionable occupants having long since removed much farther up-town. The whole atmosphere of the hotel was that of"has been" —even the guests occupying the large