When I first began to read Science and Health, and attempted to think along Christian Science lines, there seemed to be a sharp conflict between all that I had previously been taught and believed, and the teachings of Christian Science. Every page of Science and Health bristled with statements which I could not understand and did not believe. So sharp was the clash between the new and the old way of thinking that it amounted to physical distress whenever I read the book; but I had promised my practitioner that I would read it, and I wanted to know for myself what had healed me, so I read faithfully, almost defiantly, challenging every statement with which I could not agree, and the result was a state of upheaval which was very trying to experience. One day I told a Christian Science friend of these conditions, and she said. "There are some statements which you do understand and believe, are there not?" I admitted that there were. "Then why do you not read and think about them, and try to live them, and stop worrying about what you do not understand? If you will do that, your understanding will grow and widen continually."

This appealed to me as very good advice, so I followed it to the best of my ability, and the result was peace. I did think about what I could understand, and I was surprised to find how much and how beautiful it was. I did try to live the teachings of the book and prove its statements, and results did follow. When I came to something I could not understand, I passed it by, put it upon a high shelf mentally, until the understanding came. As I read and tried to live what I did know, each day more and more of the truth became clear to me; each day I added to my store of understood statements. Sometimes this understanding would dawn upon me slowly; sometimes quickly, like an illumination. These flashes of understanding would often come to me at very unexpected times and places. One of the most unexpected of these came to me in a sawmill. It was my privilege to visit one of the great mills in one of our western cities. I was very much impressed with what I saw—the size of the plant, the variety and perfection of the machinery, and the rapidity with which the immense logs were transformed into boards. It was most interesting to watch the process, from the time the logs were brought in all dripping from the river, until the finished product was ready for shipment. And it was here, in the midst of all the clatter and roar of the machinery, that two valuable lessons in Christian Science came to me.

It had taken some time to change my thought from the old theological concept of God to the Christian Science idea. The thought of God as Love, as Life, as Mind, had not been difficult to comprehend, but I had not been able to understand what my Christian Science friends meant when they spoke of God as Principle. The term seemed to be a very sacred one to them,—I often heard them say, "Principle guides;" or, "I am trying to live my life according to Principle,"—but to me the term seemed cold, hard, inflexible, wholly contrary to my previous thought of God. To my visit to the sawmill I owe the first illumination which came to me in regard to this term. When I first entered the mill, it seemed to me a place of utter confusion,—the roar of the machinery, the buzz of the saws, the hurrying workmen, all produced the effect of a chaotic hubbub; but as we went from place to place and watched the process of transforming the rough logs to the smooth, white boards, it became evident that what seemed like confusion was one perfect plan, well thought out and executed, and that every part was in perfect cooperation with every other part; that each piece of machinery, although it seemed separate from every other, was controlled by the same invisible power which started the mighty engines. The smallest or the most unimportant piece of machinery was guided by the same compelling force that controlled the great gang-saws. As I watched the perfect control and harmony of it all, I began dimly to understand what was meant by a perfect governing Principle. To my consciousness began to come the realization of what a Christian Scientist means by the term Principle as applied to Deity; that in spite of the seeming chaos of false living, there is a "divine Principle, Love, underlying, overlying, and encompassing all true being" (Science and Health, p. 496). I began to see that if would turn from the false, and realize man's right to the true, my life would be controlled by this perfect Principle, and that it was my privilege to know that all the events of my life, from the smallest and most insignificant to those which seemed of the greatest importance, were guided and controlled by divine Principle, that is never hard and inflexible, but is always perfect Love.

Another question which had troubled me was to understand God's part and man's part in a case of healing. That the healing came from God I did not question for a moment, yet I could not help noticing that the results were not the same with all Christian Scientists. Why this difference, if God did the healing? While visiting the sawmill I an illustration which cleared up this difficulty for me. In one part of the mill was a long, straight saw, which constantly moved up and down with great rapidity. In front of this saw was a flat car, which moved back and forth close to the saw. When the great logs were brought in from the river they were placed on the edge of this car, and as the car passed down in front of the saw, a board was cut off. A man on the car shifted the log to a nearer position, and the car again passed in front of the saw and another board was cut off, and the process was repeated until the log was reduced to boards. No one for a moment would have thought that the man cut the log. The saw did it; there was no question about that. Yet, if the man had not been faithful to his work and had not shifted the log to exactly the right position on the edge of the car, and had not held it firmly in place, no board would have been cut, or, at best, it would have been a very imperfect one.

As I watched the man at his work, his alertness and the skill with which he manipulated his machinery and held the log steadily in its place, a passage from Science and Health (p. 261) came to me, "Hold thought steadfastly to the enduring, the good, and the true, and you will bring these into your experience proportionably to their occupancy of your thoughts." My question was answered. God, divine Principle, does the healing and the work of regeneration. Man's part is to "hold thought steadfastly" to divine Principle, and the results are in proportion to the earnestness and faithfulness with which this is done. Divine Principle, the healing, transforming power, is ever the same, unchanged throughout all the changing mortal years, and it is our privilege to realize constantly and steadfastly, that just as the smallest bit of machinery is an essential part of the great mechanism at the sawmill, and is guided by its controlling power, so man, in God's image, is one with the universe, and governed by the divine Principle of all being.