"How! Why, because every declaration of good is spiritual, and proves that you are one with your soul and master over your body, just as false declarations make you one with your body and take away all power from your soul. That's how mental cures work. When anybody says 'I am well,' she declares souls can't be ill, and she makes Truth stronger by adding her strength to its strength. But when a man says 'I am ill,' he declares a lie, for souls can't be ill, and so he's claiming not to be spiritual, but just to be his own body. It's as if a weaver stopped weaving and said: 'I've broken several threads, and _I'm_ going to be imperfect, and _I_ won't bring any price, and _I'll_ only be fit to cut up into cleaning cloths.' What would you think of him? You'd say: 'Why, that's only an hour's work in cloth and can be put aside without further thought. Just go right on and with your skill and judgment make the next piece perfect. It was never any of it _you_; it was the stuff you were making.' Bodies are the stuff we are making." Emily laid down her work. "Jane, that's wonderful," she said solemnly. "You put that so that I really got hold of it. I understand exactly what you mean, and if only everybody else did!" "But nobody else really matters to you," said Jane; "all that matters to you is that you believe. They have their lives--you have yours." Emily was looking very earnest. "I'm going to try," she said, rising. "I'm going to try. I must go now, but I'm going home to go to work in my world." Jane walked with her to the gate. "I'll help you all I can," she said, "I'm so glad you're interested. It makes life so splendid." Emily stopped and took her hand. "Jane," she said, "I want to tell you something. I want to marry Mr. Rath. I think he's the nicest man I ever saw. Do you really--really--believe that I can, if I learn to think as you do?" Jane turned white beneath the other's eyes. "Why, but don't you know--don't you _see_ that he's in love?" "In love! With you?" "With me,--oh, _no_. With Madeleine." "Oh, no, he's not in love with her," said Emily decidedly; "I know that. I know that perfectly well." "They knew one another before they came here, you know." "Why, I see them round town together all hours," said Emily; "they're like brother and sister, they're not one bit in love. I thought that perhaps it was you." "Oh, dear, no--I can't marry. I never even think of it." "Don't you use any of your ideas with him?" "No, indeed! I never ask anything for myself any more. I just ask to manifest God's will,--to help in any of His work that offers." "You're awfully good, dear. But, honestly, do you think that I could surely get him if I tried?"