When Christian Science found me, about three years ago, I was a physical, and almost a mental wreck. I had searched all my life for some guide, some positive rule to live by, but in vain, nothing satisfied me. I had felt for years that it would be comparatively easy to do right, if only one could decide as to what really was right; but as no two people ever seemed to agree on this question, it was confusing to say the least. My friends were alarmed. One said to me, on my asserting that I had no moral sense, and could not tell wrong from right, But you have a conscience, haven't you? I said, "No, I think not; a conscience seems to me to be a matter of education, what your conscience permits you to do, might seem inconsistent to me." I felt if there were only some one, in whom I had confidence who could give me a rule to go by. I should be happy, but even then how was I to prove it? On one occasion an aunt visited me, and on Sunday morning asked for my Bible. She was much distressed to learn that I had none. I could not understand it at all. Every one seemed to twist it to suit themselves. I never knew any one who lived the kind of a life that I thought Jesus taught, so I just gave up all idea of ever understanding it, and if any one asked my views on the subject, I would say, in substance, "I suppose there must be a God, but it is a queer loving Father who will permit such wrongs as I see around me every day. It is beyond my comprehension." My little son, when he grew old enough, asked me, "What is God?" I was perplexed, but I said, "My dear, I can only say this, God must be everything that is beautiful and good, and the devil is everything ugly and bad. This is all I know, when you are older, you must learn for yourself." This was over ten years ago. I had heard of Christian Science even then, and knew those who tried to live it, but I was so blind that it meant nothing to me.
I struggled on through years of suffering and sorrow, until at last there was no way left, and a dear friend said to me, "If you would try Christian Science it would straighten out your life." I had learned that health depended largely on one's state of mind, for when I would be contented and hopeful, my health improved, but as soon as there was anything to worry over (and I could generally find something), I would be worse again, and as I had now fully persuaded myself that happiness, or even tranquillity of mind, was a thing of the past, I felt my case to be hopeless.
Nevertheless, after some urging, and my friend having loaned me a copy of Science and Health, I went at it with such energy, that I was soon completely prostrated. I saw my husband watching me anxiously, and finally I was in such a condition, that we decided it would be best for me to go away on a visit. I went north for a month, leaving the book at home, and on my return felt somewhat more cheerful, but was soon in a worse condition than before. I kept the book in plain sight for several months, but could not bring myself to open it. I think I was afraid of it. I again went to my friend and told her all my troubles. She said, "Have you been reading Science and Health?" I was so indignant at her lack of sympathy (as I thought) that I could only sit and cry. The idea that simply reading a book could reach my case, seemed too absurd. But she kept saying, "You go home and read that book."
