Excerpts
from
"The
Winning of the Best"
by
Ralph Waldo Trine
Order in Adobe PDF eBook form for $4.95
TABLE
OF CONTENTS
Chapter
1 - Which
Way Is Life Leaning?
|
Chapter
2 - The
Creative Power of Thought
|
Chapter
3 - The Best Is the Life
|
Chapter
4 - The Power That Makes Us What We Are.... |
Chapter
5 - A
Basis of Philosophy and Religion |
Chapter
6 - How We
Will Win the Best |
CHAPTER
1
Which Way is Life Leaning?
"The
optimist fell ten stories
And at each window bar
He shouted to his friends—
'All right so far.'"
WAS he, as
one
is now and then
inclined to think, a silly-pated fool,
or was there some basis for the feeling which inspired his utterance?
In other words, are those to whom life seems so bright, buoyant, even
and interesting, in distinction from those to whom it seems so dark and
complex and uncertain, to be described by this same, or by some kindred
term?
Then, there are those who have exchanged fears and
forebodings,
gloom,
and at least apparent despair, with their many times attendant bodily
ailments, for peace and health and strength and newness of power. In
other words they have come into a newness of life that is, to speak
mildly, most interesting, and in some cases quite miraculous both to
themselves and to their friends and acquaintances.
Is it pure imagination? Then is imagination rather a good
thing
to
have? Especially as in such vast numbers of cases these things last. It
is true moreover of people of not any one peculiar trend of mind and
thought and life, but of people of all descriptions and all types and
so-called stations in life. Is it merely a difference of temperament
that life seems so gloomy and uncertain and get-no-where to some, and
so buoyant and certain and straight-to-the-mark like, to others? If so,
is there somehow or somewhere a power to change or alter temperament?
A part of what we might term the optimist's philosophy
is—If
you
can
mend a situation mend it; if you can't mend it, forget it. Is it good
philosophy or is it foolishness?
To me the term optimist marks the man or the woman of
energy
and
common
sense, in distinction from the one of either supine inactivity or that
will allow himself or herself to get, as we say, all "balled-up," when
in reality there is no occasion for it. Moreover if this one was a
silly-pated fool, then was Browning also when he wrote:
"One
who
never turned his
back, but
marched breast forward.
Never
doubted
clouds
would break.
Never
dreamed,
though
right were worsted, wrong would triumph,
Held
we fall
to rise,
are baffled to fight better,
Sleep
to wake."
Was Samuel Johnson?
when he
said: "The habit of looking at the bright
side of things is worth more than a thousand a year." Was Lowell? when
he said: "Let us be of good cheer, remembering that the misfortunes
hardest to bear are those that never come." Or again, is G. K.
Chesterton? when he says: "The optimist is a better reformer than the
pessimist: and the man who believes life to be excellent is the one who
alters it most." Or, looking at the matter in a really serious
manner,—has the optimist something that the other fellow hasn't ?
Personally I believe
in the
absolute
reign of law, and in
nothing, perhaps, more fully than in the
law of cause
and effect, the
same as I believe that all life is from within out, and as is the
inner, therefore, so always and necessarily is the outer.
A few days ago, a
friend who
sees much of all phases of life,
and
whose
daily work many times takes him among those whose lives and whose
hardships and sufferings, both mental and physical, would cause
ordinarily the stoutest heart that witnesses them to grow downcast and
sceptical, said: "It's a good thing, after all, for one to have a
little philosophy in his life; there are times when it stands him in
right good hand."
Where is there a
philosophy
of real value that the average
individual
can get hold of—a philosophy that will give results—a philosophy that
as we say, will make good? Judging from all the philosophical and
religious systems in the world, it would seem that every man and woman
could have no want whatever along this line. Or, are they so complex,
or are they so mixed with other things that so obscure their real
working and vitalising portions, that we average mortals don't know
just how to get hold of them?
Undoubtedly many of
them are
sadly in need of some simplifying
process,
or some process that will extract the really vital portions from the
great mass of verbiage that enshrouds them, or from the great mass of
extraneous matter that has crept in, practically to engulf them.
The skilled machinist
is, I
believe, continually on the alert
to
simplify the splendid specimen of modern machinery, by the elimination
of every possible part that is not absolutely essential to its
performing its real functions. To me whatever in philosophy, in
religion, or in any code of life principles has use,—can be applied and
used in the everyday problems of our common work-a-day life, is of
value, and whatever hasn't, is not only valueless, but is, moreover, a
positive detriment, in that it tends to keep from us the real vital
laws and forces that, as we say, do the work. To me, if we consider
terms not too technically, philosophy and religion are very similar
and, in a sense, the same. They have also a very similar characteristic
when we endeavour to apply to them both this great principle of use.
I was reading only
yesterday
a portion of a very able sermon on
the
Sunday editorial page of one of our great dailies, in which the writer
made a very strong plea for the value of allegiance to Truth, and the
value of allegiance to Religion. Nowhere, however, was there a word
said in regard to just what was meant by "truth" or what was meant by
"religion." I dare say the sermon was of as little real practical value
to ninety-nine out of every hundred readers as it was to me.
We read now and then
that
one of the great secrets of life is
"Adjustment." Again, that the secret of life is "Harmony." Granting
this, is there some great truth, some great central truth, so to speak,
that we can adjust ourselves—our daily lives—to? Some great central
truth that we can square our lives by? Said one of the world's greatest
teachers: "Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free."
Is there some understandable, some universal truth or principle that
all can accept, and that all lives can be squared by?
I believe most
profoundly
that the optimist has something that
the
other fellow hasn't. If it is a common sense, get-some-where and
more-than-a-day optimism, I believe that its possessor has found
primarily two great facts. The one is that there is a Science of
Thought. The other is what might be termed the fact of the Divinity of
Human Life—the element of Divinity with insights and powers that are
greater than the ordinary human.
CHAPTER
2
The Creative Power of Thought
AND what
do we
mean by a Science
of Thought? Its funda- mental principle
is the fact that thoughts are forces, that like creates like, and like
attracts like, and for one to govern their thinking, therefore, is to
determine their life.
We are now finding that a definite active thought is a
force,
the
same
as electricity is a force, the same as vibration is a force, or rather
as certain forms of vibration are productive of certain forms of force.
They have form and quality and power, which we are now beginning to
determine in our very laboratory experiments; although, up to the
present time, we have learned more perhaps of their influences and
effects than we have definitely of their qualities. We know definitely
already a great deal of their effects in habit-forming, in
character-building, and their effects in bodybuilding, the same as we
have discovered definitely certain great laws in connection with their
influences upon others. We have reached the stage of what may properly
be called "scientific mind and body-building" through the agency of
thought. As we think, so we become—cause, effect. Necessarily is it
true, then—as is the inner, so always and inevitably is the outer.
There is the hopeful, optimistic type of thought, which
to
whatever
extent indulged, gradually increases the power for this type of
thought. It has the effect of aiding greatly in the accomplishment of
whatever we set out to do, the same as it has most potent and powerful
influences in inducing health and strength and vigour in connection
with all bodily organs and functions. It is what may be termed the
normal, natural, creative type of thought.
On the other hand, there is the fearing, vacillating, the
sort
of
negative type of thought that has the influence of crippling our
energies, stealing success in advance from our endeavours, the same as
it has a depressing, sort of closing up, deadening effect upon all
bodily functions and powers.
We are finding scientifically true "as a man thinketh in
his
heart, so
is he." Along whatever line the mind sets itself does it attract unseen
elements that induce it to grow gradually more and more along that
line, as well as elements that aid it in accomplishing its set purpose.
There is in connection with thought a law that we are now
beginning to
understand, that may be termed "the drawing power of mind." We are
continually attracting to us, from both the seen and the unseen sides
of life, influences and conditions corresponding with the types of
thought we most habitually allow to take form in our minds, and that we
consequently most habitually live with.
"Birds of a feather flock together" is a very old
statement.
But
birds
of a feather flock together because like attracts like. For one to
govern their thinking, then, is not only to determine their own life,
but to determine also those that they attracts to them, their
acquaintances and, eventually, their friends and comp- anions.
The hopeful, confident, successful type of thought not
only
attracts to
us success, but it also attracts to us successful people, those whose
lives are dominated by the same type or trend of thought. They, in
turn, become of help to us, and we to them. So, as we give in thought,
we also get back again.
Not only are our accomplishments determined by our
prevailing
types of
thought, but our influence upon others is determined in this same way.
Those who come in personal contact with us are influenced invariably,
though many times unconsciously, by our prevailing types of thought. If
we are hopeful, we inspire hope—we radiate hope and encouragement and
strength, so to speak. If we have a feeling of friendship and good-will
and helpfulness—love—we
inspire these same qualities in others, and the same types of warming
and life-giving thought-forces come back in turn to us from them. It
is, therefore, scientifically true that as a man gives he gets.
We are all influenced, and whether conscious of it or
not, by
the
prevailing mental and emotional states and conditions of those with
whom we come in contact. It was Henry Ward Beecher who said:
"There are persons so radiant, so genial, so kind, so
pleasure-bearing,
that you instinctively feel in their presence that they do you good;
whose coming into a room is like the bringing of a lamp there."
We use the term personal magnetism. Careful analysis will
generally
reveal the fact that personal magnetism is the outcome of clean,
positive, cheerful, sympathetic, and helpful types of thought, that
have gradually built certain qualities into the life of the one
entertaining them, and that are instinctively felt by all those with
whom he or she comes in contact. I have never yet known of one of a
fearing, negative, critical, self-centered and self-seeking type of
thought to have, to any appreciable degree, the quality that we term
"personal magnetism."
If we are small and critical we inspire and call from
others
the
small
and critical type of thought and act. If we hate we inspire hatred,
and, with its chilling, killing qualities, it will turn back to us
again. If we live in envy of those who are doing things, we are
dwarfing powers within us that, if rightly cultivated and grown, would
enable us likewise to do things, and thus remove any cause for envy. If
we love we inspire love, and the warming, ennobling, uplifting
influences of love will come back to us. We can hinder and retard
another by holding him or her in the thought of weakness or failure,
the same as we can hinder or retard our own efforts.
"Keep your courage up, and you'll do," was Stevenson's
way,
perhaps
unconsciously, of stating this law. Mrs. Wiggs also, perhaps
unconsciously, stated it when she said: "When things first got to goin'
wrong with me, I says: 'O Lord, whatever comes, keep me from gittin
sour!' Since then I've made it a practice to put all my worries down in
the bottom of my heart, then sit on the lid an' smile." And again, when
she said: "Don't you go and git sorry fer yerself. That's one thing I
can't stand in nobody. Ther's always lots of other folks you kin be
sorry fer 'stead of yerself. Ain't you proud you ain't got a harelip?
Why, that one thought is enough to keep me from ever gittin' sorry fer
myself."
It's the man or the woman who does not allow himself or
herself
to
get,
as the expression is, "all balled up," who generally arrives, and who
also wears. Those who do allow it are generally the greatest hindrances
there are in the world to themselves, and they are likewise a hindrance
to others. Certainly, others are influenced, and generally badly
influ- enced, by the uncertain, excitable and non-productive type of
thought that emanates as an atmosphere from them. To keep calm and
quiet within—and the mouth closed—and to look forward with hope and
faith and courage, and with the dogged determination of still finding
the best when the illusions break or show cracks, is the mark of the
man or the woman who will finally win out.
Again, there is that rather large aggregation of people
who are
allowing happiness to remain away from them, and from those surrounding
them, by giving undue attention to little, non-essential things,
instead of seeing the fundamentals that are alone worth the attention
of a normal, clear-cut type of man or woman.
Such large amounts, whole cargoes, we might say, of peace
and
harmony
are allowed to escape from such vast numbers of families because some
member or members do not understand the significance of this important
fact. How many millions of parents, especially mothers, in the world's
history, could have been saved hours and, in the aggregate, years of
worry, senseless, useless worry, if they had realised the importance of
this in connection with their children!
Then there comes that more pronounced and decided enemy
and
assassin of
human endeavour and happiness—or, rather, two kindred ones, but always
closely enough allied to be called twins—fear and worry. The
mysterious, or the marvellous feature of these, to me, is always the
fact that by them nothing is ever to be gained, but much is always to
be lost. Fear always has the influence of neutralising normal healthy
endeavour and action, sometimes to the extent of paralysing it fully,
the same as it has on all bodily functions and powers.
Much the same is true in regard to worry, both in
connection
with
human
activity and endeavour, as well as in connection with various bodily
organs and functions, though in connection with the latter its action
is more of a slow corroding and poisoning, rather than of a
neutralising or paralysing nature. If anything were to be gained by
either, one could easily see why they have such an almost universal
hold on human life. But when we once fully realise, as every
normal-minded person can, that by them nothing is to be gained, but
everything to be lost, we can see how thoroughly foolish and expensive
they are.
There are vast numbers of people everywhere today who are
given
to
them, and who are paying their continual heavy tolls, who could do
nothing more valuable in all the world than to set about in a very
definite way to think this proposition over; and, instead of further
drifting under their influence, set sail and rudder straight for a
point where these will be left forever behind. Not that one can always
change a habit instantly, but it is essential to realise that when one
is drifting they will likely continue to drift indefinitely, unless
they set out in the direction of the point at which they want
eventually to arrive.
To set the face in the right direction, and then simply
to
travel
on,
unmindful and never discouraged by even frequent relapses by the way,
is the secret of all human achievement.
Fear and worry and all kindred mental states are so
expensive
that
no
man, woman, or child can afford to give them a dominating or even the
slightest hold in his or her life. They will grow if we indulge them;
they will depart—in time completely—if we are really determined that we
can't afford them.
There are untold numbers among us who are suffering
various
bodily
ailments that have been induced, many times unconsciously on their
part, by these two great filchers of human health and, therefore, of
happiness. Fear invariably paralyses healthy action; worry corrodes and
pulls down the organism. If not quick-acting, as in cases now and then
they are, they have always the slow-poisoning influence.
Long-continued grief at any real or apparent loss will do
the
same.
Anger, jealousy, malice, a brooding disposition of any type, will do
the same—each has its own peculiar corroding,
poisoning, tearing
down effects. A close-fisted, hoarding, stingy disposition will have
also similar effects.
Wise is he who determines early to do away forever with
the
companionship of the two twins. They are black fellows. They never help
us. They never work, they never clean for us, but in their pails they
carry always poison. Why not good-night, then, to the Black Twins!
To bid goodbye to fear and worry, opening all doors and
windows
to
hope
and faith which always induce courage, which in turn is always
productive of normal healthy action, and then coupling this with
rightly directed endeavour, can work a complete reformation, even to a
revolution, in any life within even twelve month months; and twelve
months pass, as we all realise, oh! so quickly.
Not that there are no problems, and hard and distressing
circumstances,
and even tragedies, that come into our common lives, but the very fact
that these do come is the great reason why we should equip ourselves
with the best agencies to meet and to master them, to leave them behind
and, as quickly as possible,—then to forget them. Faith, hope, courage,
and cheerfulness all along the way are the agencies that will stand by
us successfully to meet, to master, to get the good from each
experience; then to pass on and completely forget the distressing
portions.
It is not, What are the conditions in any life? but how a
person
meets
whatever conditions arise, that determines whether he or she is a
creature or a master of circumstances, that determines whether he or
she has backbone and stamina, and withal good common sense in
connection with their life problems.
Cheerfulness, looking always on the bright side of
things,
determined
always to stand in the sunshine, rather than in the shadow—this it is
that makes life, with its knotty problems, continually easier. It's the
"oil of gladness" that helps in doing the work. It is productive also
of the influence that mysteriously escapes from our lives, that helps
the friend, and the neighbour also, with their problems. It's a great
help for us sometimes to remember that the neighbour has their problems
also. And then the neighbour around on the next corner likewise, and——
To take a cheerful, hopeful, optimistic,
never-down-in-the-mouth,
but
courage-always-up attitude of mind, is to set in, and to keep in
continual operation, subtle, silent forces that are working along the
lines we are going, and that open the way for us to arrive.
They are the forces that are working for us continual
good if
we
are
but wise enough to recognise them and put them into operation. They are
waiting always to be appropriated by us if we have an understanding
sufficient to enable us to recognise and appropriate them.
"It is a part of my religion to look well after the
cheerfulness
of
life, and let the dismals shift for themselves," said Alcott.
The world today is filled with heroes, heroes in the
common
life,
but
greater are they than any General, because the General ordinarily isn't
out on the fields of continual fighting. They are the men and the women
who are meeting their problems, many times distressing, and hard to
understand, but always with courage up, always with a smile on their
lips—even when hearts are sad—saying little, if anything, because they
are too big, or because they haven't time for wanting sympathy, and
also because they are not sufficiently selfish to grow the habit of
intruding their problems and their troubles upon others.
That we be men and women, although we stumble often and
fall,
is
undoubtedly what Marcus Aurelius had in mind when so many years ago he
said: "Be not discouraged, or out of humour, because practice falls
short of precept in some particulars. If you happen to be beaten, come
on again, and be glad if most of your acts are worthy of human nature.
Love that to which you return, and do not go, like a schoolboy to his
master, with an ill-will." It was Horace who said: "The mind that is
cheerful in its present state will be adverse to all solicitudes for
the future, and will meet the bitter occurrences of life with a placid
smile."
A similar thought was that of Aristotle: "Suffering
becomes
beautiful
when anyone bears great calamities with cheerfulness, not through
insensibility, but through greatness of mind."
St. Francis (de Sales) struck squarely and helpfully at
one of
the
great principles of life when he said: "Do not look forward to what
might happen tomorrow; the same everlasting Father who cares for you
today will take care of you tomorrow, and every day. Either He will
shield you from suffering, or He will give you unfailing strength to
bear it. Be at peace, then, and put aside all anxious thoughts and
imaginations."
We are now beginning to realise that happiness
is a duty,
and that the one who is not happy—if not chronically, at least
primarily so—has either failed to grasp some of the essential
principles and forces in life, or that his or her courage isn't up.
Happiness is a normal and natural condition, and something is radically
wrong with every life where it doesn't play at least a predominating
part. Such a life fails also in performing its duty towards its neighbour as it should perform
it. It is apt to be a hindrance rather than a help in this, our common
journey.
It was Stevenson who said: "A happy man or woman is a
better
thing
to
find than a five-pound note. He or she is a radiating focus of
good-will, and their entrance into a room is as though another candle
had been lighted. We need not care whether they could prove the
forty-seventh proposition. They do a better thing than that; they
practically demonstrate the great theorem of the liveableness of life."
But Humanity is brave, so brave we will find if we search
carefully—and
even at times perchance if we look within—as to fill us with admiration
for this rather common and, at times, queer and questionable thing we
call Human Nature. Hope and courage and sympathy and trust are great
producers, and they are great factors in a man's doing his duty, as
well as his having the joy of achievement. "Never to tire," said Amiel,
"never to grow cold; to be patient, sympathetic, tender; to look for
the budding flower and the opening heart; to hope always like God; to
love always—this is Duty."
No, an optimistic philosophy rightly understood, does not
teach
that
life is merely a long, even holiday, that there are no minor strains in
what might be termed its daily music, no problems to be solved, no
bread to be earned, no tired bodies that welcome the rest of the night,
no burdens to be shared with friend, neighbour, relative.
It does teach that we should always look for the best
there is,
and
always expect to find it, and that we should never allow ourselves to
indulge in fears and forebodings, and to stand trembling and helpless
when the problem arises, when the distressing circumstance presents
itself, when the work is to be done, and perchance the sorrow or
bereavement to be borne. It teaches also to turn never a deaf, but
always a ready ear to the friend's or neighbour's signal of distress.
It equips us with the weapons to face such conditions when they arise,
and to so direct them that they work for our advantage and our good,
instead of against us.
If we adopt a philosophy that recognises the working
always of
the
law
of cause and effect, instead of mere blind chance happening, then we
believe that everything that comes into our lives has its part to play,
and it is our portion to meet whatever comes in such a way that it will
serve its highest purposes in our lives.
Personally, I believe that nothing ever comes by chance,
that
everything comes through the operation of law, although many times we
are not able to see the cause that has produced or that is producing
such results. Moreover, I believe that whatever comes has its part to
play, its mission to fulfill, and that if we can not always see it we
may not do unwisely in having faith that the time will come when we
will eventually rejoice that each thing came as it came. If we can
preserve this attitude, then when the difficult thing is before us, its
sting will be drawn, and our faith, insight, and courage to meet it
wisely, and to get the best there is from it, will be increased many
times a hundredfold.
We should be lenient in judging another, and we should be
lenient
in
judging ourselves. From my own stumblings and errors and fallings I
have come to the place where my only question in regard to another is,
Which way is he looking? Not, how much has he groped and stumbled and
fallen, the same as myself; but is his face now turned in the right
direction, and is he genuinely endeavouring to keep it there? If he is
wise enough, when he falls, to linger there only long enough to get his
lesson, and long-headed enough to learn it quickly and go on, even his
stumbling becomes an asset, and it is a mere matter of time before he
reaches a very certain destination. The bright child doesn't have to be
burned continually. The wise man or woman learns his or her lessons
quickly and goes on. "Don't worry when you stumble—remember, a worm is
about the only thing that can't fall down," some one has said most
admirably.
We can all afford to be exceedingly charitable towards
others.
The
fact
that every one of us has their failings, and also the fact that every
one of us has stumbled and fallen—and at times fallen flat—gives us a
very broad basis for that admirable and kingly quality—charity. While
each of us is in his or her present incomplete state we should be very
slow to judge another.
It may uncover the hypocrite in us more quickly than we
may be
aware;
and to condemn another is, if we will consider it in this light for but
a very brief moment, richly and consummately asinine. "To speak
wisely," it has been said, "may not always be easy, but not to speak
ill requires only silence." We need more sympathy in our common life.
It is always a mark of wisdom. It expands the individual life also into
the other lives around him.
It is well that we work each for our own individual good.
Anyone,
however, who stops there will find that they can never reach their
highest individual good unless they take also an interest—and not
merely a sentimental, but an active interest—in the lives and in the
welfare of those about them. "Help thou thy brother's boat across, and,
lo! thine own has reached the shore," says the Hindoo proverb.
There must be the general as well as the individual good,
and
only
he
who is aiding it is realising the best for himself. "I have noticed,"
said Uncle Eben, "dat de man who gits so selfish dat he can't think o'
nobody 'cept hisse'f, ginerally looks like he war thinkin' of sumpin'
disagreeable."
One of the great laws of life is giving—we term it
service.
Service for
others is just as essential to our real happiness and to our highest
welfare as is the fact that we work for our own individual welfare. No
man lives to himself alone. No man can live to himself alone. The Order
of the Universe has been written from time immemorial against it. There
is no man who has ever found happiness by striving for it directly. It
never has and it never can come that way. Why? Simply because the very
laws of the universe are against it. It was Charles Kingsley
who sang so truly:
"Friends,
in this world of hurry and work and sudden end.
If a thought comes quick of
doing a kindness to a friend,
Do it that very instant!
don't put it off—don't wait!
What's the use of doing a
kindness if you do it a day too late!"
A man may become
wealthy, he
may
become very wealthy in the sense
o£
acquiring money. He may become a millionaire, and even many times over,
by working for it directly. But very common men have done that. Indeed,
many of a low type have done it. We now have sense enough not to call
these great men. Careful analysis will show, in every case, that it
requires service for one's fellow-men to constitute a great man. The
man who is working for greatness alone is the man who ordinarily never
achieves it.
It is the man who
has his mind
and
heart centered on accomplishing
the
thing that is in some way serving or that is to serve his fellow-men,
who may some day be elevated by the silent vote to the position of
greatness. So, there is no such thing as finding happiness by seeking
for it directly. It comes always through the operation of a great and
universally established law—by the sympathy, the care, the
consideration we render to others.
The higher types of
happiness
will
never come by seeking for them
directly. A real interest in the affairs of others makes for a
generous, wholesome, inclusive and, therefore, broad and happy life.
The life that is sharing in the interests, the welfare, and the
happiness of others is the one that is continually expanding in beauty
and in power and, therefore, in happiness.
The little, the
equivocal, the
small, the exclusive, the pure
self-seeker, are never among those genuinely happy. As Henry
Drummond
once said, they are on the wrong track. The large-hearted, the
sympathetic, those always ready with the helping hand are the ones who
have found the road.
Joy in another's
success not
only
indicates always the large type,
but
it indicates that they in turn are worthy of success themselves. And if
they are not always what we term a success in some given field,
or
art, or in acquiring wealth, they are a success in the greatest of
arts, the Art of Living. They are also a success in that the joy and
happiness of others enters into and becomes a portion of their own
lives.
Half the heartaches
of the
world
would be banished, and half its
burdens would be lifted, if every life were habitually tuned to this
deep but simply expressed sentiment by Emily Dickinson:
"The
Winning of the Best" by
Ralph Waldo Trine
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