I was lately called to treat a child of thirteen, or thereabouts, somewhat instructed in Christian Science, apparently prostrated with the prevailing epidemic. Accustomed to a pleasant greeting from her, I was surprised and troubled for an instant, to find her apparently, in a state of collapse and seemingly dead to what was passing about her. A few minutes after treatment I passed into the other room, where our Bible Class had met. It could not have been more than fifteen minutes later that E—came into the parlor smiling, the ashen hue all gone from her cheeks, declaring she was well. She gave sign of this to sense by eating a cracker with relish—the first food she had partaken of in a long time.
She remained through the class and my impression was strong that she was healed and would require no further treatment. She attended school the next day and has continued well since.
In the midst of the general panic possessing the minds of mortals it would be well to inquire, "Is there balm in Gilead is there no Physician there?"—
