Feb. 27, 1890.
My Dear Teacher.—Yours without date is at hand.
Could you know out of what depths of material debris the first reading of the first volume of Science and Health, six years ago last December, lifted me, you would believe it had always been "all I could ask." It was only words from the pen of uninspired writers that gave me pain. As the revelation of the All Good appeared to me, all other books, all forms of religion, all methods of healing, to my sense became void. Chronic beliefs of disease of twenty years' standing, sight dimmed with the belief of age, all disappeared instantly;—indeed, material life seemed a blank. The "why?" I could not explain, but this I did know: in this realm of the Real I found joy, peace, rest, love to all, unbounded,—unspeakable. Human language had lost its power of expression, for no words came to me; and in all this six years of bliss, I still have found no words to tell my new found life in God. The most chronic forms of disease were sometimes healed instantly and without argument.
