Reality and all things are possible. He is full of the joy of power and prospect.

“Of such is the kingdom of heaven,” and “except you become as a little child” . you shall remain forever imprisoned by what you have done and left undone. This kind of prison is hell, where one grows not “in wisdom and in knowledge,” but in hate -- hate for himself and his “life.” And his prison walls keep pressing in and in, and by and by they are simply the walls of a coffin.

And it is all so needless. One only needs to forget, to be again a child in the rosy mist of glorious possibilities.

Forgetting is so easy, too. It is only a matter of displacing one picture with another, just as one paints a new picture right over the old one on a canvas. As the new one appears the old one vanishes.

Ah, it is easier than that. Memory is just the original stereopticon show, where the old picture fades as the new appears. Change the slide and presto the old has vanished from view. Keep on slipping in new slides and by and by the old one will find its way into the ash barrel and the ash barrel will be dumped into the bottomless pit of oblivion. Oh, it is easy to forget by putting in new slides.

It is our memories which limit us. If we didn’t die once in a while and forget, we would surely curl up into something too insignificant to mention. As long as we persist in piling up our doings and misdoings in a great burden of memories we shall continue to be borne down by them to earth and the grave.

As long as we clutter up “memory’s walls” with back-number pictures of ourselves and our powers we shall need to call in Death, the Junk Man, to renovate for us.

But we are learning -- by and by we will get waked up to the desirability of keeping “memory’s walls” freshly decorated with new and tip-to-date conceptions. This thing of hanging on to old things simply because they are old is not only silly but it is death-dealing.

Our mental pictures are the source of our inspiration and power, or of our lack of inspiration and power, all according to the style of pictures we entertain. There is no power or inspiration or wisdom to be got out of things that are past. He who