But a few weeks ago, while reading "Miscellaneous Writings," by Mrs. Eddy, I came to the quotation: "Out of the depths have I delivered thee;" and it brought up before me the scene, or panorama, of my former life. A man without a God; one who delighted to delve into the work of some skeptic, and to bring arguments of every description to bear against any higher idea presented. A man whose hand was against the world, and in his belief the world was against him.
Disease came, and having tried the usual run of medicines prescribed by physicians of high repute, and by my own knowledge of the art, I came to the conclusion that there was no permanent cure for me. Christian Science had been brought to my notice again and again, but not in the right way to draw me within the fold, until one cold, stormy night, having been requested to attend a meeting in company with another gentleman who would not attend unless I did, and knowing that my brother with whom I was then living was very anxious to have us attend, I consented to go. How often the things we dislike to do prove themselves to be blessings in disguise. So it was in this case. I was suffering from the effect of dissipation and an injury received years before, and unable to sit erect in a chair.
I became involved in a discussion with the leader of the meeting—heated on my part, but filled with brotherly love on his. My pain vanished; but I thought its absence was due to my having forgotten it during the debate. The meeting ended and I returned home, expecting soon to be called upon to bear the usual amount of pain; but to my surprise it did not return, and by signs I began to realize that a cure had been wrought in my case.
