The other day a little urchin playing in the street got in the way of a horse, and just saved himself from being run over by a quick jump; he threw up his arms and in a most cheerful voice called out, “It’s all right, only different!” If the horse had run over him, he might have said the same thing and found his opportunity to more that was good and useful in life through steady patience on his bed.  The trouble is that we are not willing to call it "all right" unless it is the same,—­the same in this case meaning whatever may be identical with our own personal ideas of what is “all right.”  That expressive little bit of slang is full of humor and full of common sense.

If, for instance, when we expect something and are disappointed, we could at once yield out of our resistance and heartily exclaim, “it is all right, only different,” how much sooner we should discover the good use in its being different, and how soon we should settle into the sense of its being “all right!” When a circumstance that has seemed to us all wrong can be made, through our quiet way of meeting it, to appear all right, only different, it very soon leads to a wholesome content in the new state of affairs or to a change of circumstances to which we can more readily and happily adjust ourselves.

A strong sense of something’s being “all right” means a strong sense of willingness that it should be just as it is.  With that clear willingness in our hearts in general, we can adjust ourselves to anything in particular,—­even to very sudden and unexpected changes.  It is carrying along with us a background of powerful non-resistance which we can bring to the front and use actively at a moment’s notice.

It seems odd to think of actively using non-resistance, and yet the expression is not as contradictory as it would appear, for the strength of will it takes to attain an habitual attitude of wholesome non-resistance is far beyond the strength of will required to resist unwholesomely.  The stronger, the more fixed and immovable the centre, the more free and adaptable are the circumferences of action; and, even though our central principle is fixed and immovable, it must be elastic enough to enable us to change our point of view whenever we find that by so doing we can gain a broader outlook and greater power for use.

To acquire the strength of will for this habitual non-resistance is sometimes a matter of years of practice.  We have to compel ourselves to be “willing,” over and over again, at each new opportunity; sometimes the opportunities seem to throng us; and this, truly considered, is only a cause for gratitude.

In life the truest winning often comes first under the guise of failure, and it is willingness to accept failure, and intelligence in understanding its causes, and using the acquired knowledge as a means to a higher end, that ultimately brings true success.  If we choose, a failure can always be used as a means to an end rather than as a result in itself.