her own motion. She could have had no important advisers at that early
day. If we accept it as her own idea and her own act--and I think we
must--we have one key to her character. And it will explain subsequent
acts of hers that would merely stun us and stupefy us without it. Shall
we call it courage? Or shall we call it recklessness? Courage observes;
reflects; calculates; surveys the whole situation; counts the cost,
estimates the odds, makes up its mind; then goes at the enterprise
resolute to win or perish. Recklessness does not reflect, it plunges
fearlessly in with a hurrah, and takes the risks, whatever they may be,
regardless of expense. Recklessness often fails, Mrs. Eddy has never
failed--from the point of view of her followers. The point of view of
other people is naturally not a matter of weighty importance to her.

The new Church was not born loose-jointed and featureless, but had a
defined plan, a definite character, definite aims, and a name which was a
challenge, and defied all comers. It was "a Mind-healing Church." It
was "without a creed." Its name, "The Church of Christ, Scientist."

Mrs. Eddy could not copyright her Church, but she chartered it, which was
the same thing and relieved the pain. It had twenty-six charter members.
Mrs. Eddy was at once installed as its pastor.

The other venture, above referred to, was Mrs. Eddy's Massachusetts
Metaphysical College, in which was taught "the pathology of spiritual
power." She could not copyright it, but she got it chartered. For
faculty it had herself, her husband of the period (Dr. Eddy), and her
adopted son, Dr. Foster-Eddy. The college term was "barely three
weeks," she says. Again she was bold, brave, rash, reckless--choose for
yourself--for she not only began to charge the student, but charged him a
hundred dollars a week for the enlightenments. And got it? some may