Dear Journal:—Not long ago I was seated in a street car, and a young business man came in and sank down in the seat near me, saying to his companion: "So tired, so tired!" As these words broke in; upon my thought, much pre-occupied with the Science work, I involuntarily said to myself: What does that mean?—tired! In answer to that question I remembered how, not many years ago, I too dreamed dreams of fatigue and weakness which to my sense then were anything but dreams, and how the blessed light of Christian Science had dispelled so many of those shadows, and my thought was welling over with gratitude for its gentle," spiritual touch. Think of it! health a spiritual fact, never to be touched by weariness, weakness, or pain! Oh, to learn to drink deeply of that well-spring! This morning as the new year, 1897, dawns upon me, I feel as if I must express through the pages of the Journal our beloved Mother has given us, my gratitude for the light of Christian Science. It matters not whether my words are ever published,—the gratitude has been expressed. When Christian Science found me I was a poor starveling, but clinging to the Episcopal faith, firm, I supposed, in my teaching that it was "The Church," whose members are declared "once a member, always a member." I had worshipped the god of ceremony and ritual, believing I was worshipping the one God, until to separate from that church would have been sin to me.
Weary of earth, and laden with my sin,
I looked to heaven, and longed to enter in.
Then came the tidings of Good; and slowly, slowly renewed strength came, courage came, health came, 01 rather I came to them; then I studied. Then came a fearful struggle, lasting eight or nine months,—a struggle between myself, who saw somewhat the demands oi the Science, and the creed and ceremonies upon which I had been starving so many years. I knew enough to hold on to this one thing: "God will show me, lead me, and when I am ready to separate from Episcopalianism I shall know it." The tender light of His countenance shed itself upon me, and I waited. One Sunday morning I entered the Sunday School and taught my class as usual, and then went to the church service. That day, under cover of a fine sermon, arrows were hurled at Christian Science. "With a swift sword my heart was cut clean and free from the forms and doctrines I had imbibed so long, and in coming from the service I said to one with me: "I shall never enter this church again as a member of its faith." The next morning I wrote asking for dismissal, which I never received for the reason stated above. But henceforth I was to march in the ranks of those who were learning to "preach the Gospel, heal the sick," the "Church militant signalling home to the Church triumphant." (Pulpit and Press.)
