A little more than two years ago I was, according to my own belief and the declaration of doctors, an incurable invalid. A lengthened siege of lung and throat affection, insomnia, loss of appetite, a cough that shook me to the foundation, and other bodily ailments developed into what medical testimony designated organic heart disease. Under this added phase of my affliction, my condition was pronounced incurable. I was ordered to sit quietly in my armchair, refrain from the least exertion, not walk upstairs, and hardly allowed to walk around my room. My attendant physician, ever kind and thoughtful of me,—and I loved him for it,—believed I had reached the brink of the grave.
In this woe-begone state Christian Science incidentally came to my attention. Being a positive materialist of the school of Tyndall, Huxley, and Haeckel, I was strongly prejudiced against it. But I studied diligently the book loaned to me, "Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures."
The following incident tells partly the result of that study. The other Sunday morning I walked from my home, a considerable stretch, to the railroad depot. The train I wanted was delayed by a heavy washout. I had to fill an engagement as Reader at a Christian Science Church, in Pomona, six miles away. Handing my overcoat to the station agent, as it contained a good-sized Bible and a copy of Science and Health, I started to walk the six miles. For a man nearly midway between seventy and eighty, and who two years ago was so near the grave that he was warned not to walk around his own veranda, this proceeding might seem rash. I had no time to lose, and meant to get there. I reached my destination just as the service was commencing. I took my place at the desk, remained standing during nearly the whole exercises, and was not in the least tired. In fact I never felt better in my life than I did during that Sunday.
