to repeat the word often, to impress it
upon the mind.

And then to declare each day that "Concentration is mine" will aid
still farther in the acquisition of this great and important quality.

Meanwhile, since we can be so fortunate as to always surround ourselves
with others who have acquired it, the student of the Higher Philosophy
must learn to be serene and self-poised when he encounters life's pigmy
worries.

He must carry his religion into his bedroom and his office, and not
forget it utterly when he loses his collar-button, or misses his car,
or finds his office boy has taken a parcel to the wrong address.

To build character necessitates a constant watch upon ourselves. The
New Thought is not a religion of Sundays, but of every day.

Destiny

Never say that you wish your situation were different! Never wish you
had some other person's life or troubles or worries.

Accept your own as a _working basis_, the best for you.

Then go ahead and _change whatever_ displeases you.

Remember you are the maker and moulder of your own destiny. You do not
recall the fact, but you brought about the present conditions of your
destiny in former incarnations.

Even if you do not believe this, you must acknowledge that _you are
here_, and that the situation in which you find yourself seems to be
inevitable for the present.

But it is not inevitable for the future, unless you lie down in the
furrow and whine, and wish you were a millionaire, or a genius, and
rail at the partiality of Providence.

There is no partiality in the Universe.

The whole scheme is well balanced. If you were allowed to change lots
with anyone on the face of the earth, you would complain and find fault
in a short time.

One of our best known millionaires, born to opulence, complains that he
has been robbed of the privilege of making his own fortune.

He is no happier than you. His confession betrays his weakness of
character just as your repining and fault-finding betrays yours.

The real worth-while character thanks God for its destiny and says, "I
will show the world what I can do with my life."

Not long ago there was a great trotting-race at Brighton Beach. The
blind conqueror "Rythmic" won five consecutive races.

Think of it! He did not, like a mortal man, shrink back and say "I am
blind--that is a terrible destiny--I am cursed of God--I will not try
to win the race." He just trusted the hand of the _Master at the