I desire to tell of my attitude towards Christian Science and why I am in that attitude. At such a time as this there appears before me a mental picture of that which claimed to be I before I became acquainted with Christian Science. Perhaps if I describe it the reader will understand why I am a Christian Scientist, or endeavoring to become one. In memory I can see a person wandering along life's highway in open-eyed wonderment as to why he was even wandering; and becoming more mystified with each mental effort, but resolved to search for the reason of his seemingly motiveless, reasonless existence. I can follow him through the metaphysical libraries of the old country, and also the libraries of America, searching the manuscripts and books of the old philosophers in the hope that possibly there was something written by them that the busy world of this day had overlooked, something pertaining to life which the moderns could not give us,—ever being led on, but always being disappointed, for there was always that terrible "if," a questioning left after having absorbed their so-called discoveries. A long-continued round of kindred efforts necessarily brought about a violent reaction, morally and physically; physically in my case it became a chronic manifestation of a severe and complicated trouble of the eyes, which was duly named by my (at that time) profession. For this trouble I had worn glasses for nearly twenty years. I also had a tendency to catch cold at any and all times, and to acute attacks of rheumatic trouble; I had very severe attacks of liver complaint, with all its extremely unpleasant attendant conditions, which frequently caused me to remain in bed for days. Besides these, I had a well-developed case of the smoking habit. Morally I was afflicted with a vicious sense of discouragement and failure, an untiring dissatisfaction with everybody and everything, even to the verge of desiring to leave this world and see for myself (as I then thought I should) what was in the "great beyond." The way I was baffled at every turn in endeavoring to find "the reason for it all" embittered me exceedingly.
This was the animated mentality which claimed to be "I" when I first heard of Christian Science. Now I no longer search in libraries, in musty volumes to find a reason for my existence. I scarcely have time to read all that I should like to read in the Christian Science literature, let alone to read enough of the current literature of the day to keep informed of things which tend towards the wellbeing of all men. I no longer wear eye-glasses for eye disease, my eyes and sight being practically normal. I no longer have rheumatic pains or liver complaint. Although I am not entirely immune from "little complaints,"—such as slight cold or headache,—even those appear at ever-increasing distances apart and they stay with me a very short time after I recognize their "seeming" presence. I no longer indulge in smoking, having absolutely no desire for it. I am no longer discouraged, jealous, or envious of others because of their attainments or possessions, but I have a constant desire to be a better man in all ways and to get spiritual understanding.
If the reader is not acquainted with Christian Science, he might ask, and with good reason, Why this transformation? In response I would hold up a. little book and say, "This made it possible; this is the mine where I got my sparkling gems of Truth. It is 'Science and 'Health with Key to the Scriptures' by Mrs. Eddy;" and if I were asked what there was in such a small book to change the trend of a person's whole existence, I would reverently say, "Whereas I was once blind—oh, so blind—now I begin to see." For this partial regeneration, which has taken not a great length of time, I am what? Some people say we are unduly grateful to Mrs. Eddy,—but we are not! Every Wednesday night unnumbered hundreds are telling of their gratitude, but this sentiment does not express just what I feel. To be saved from what is called physical sickness and death is a mighty blessing, but to be saved from those things, and in addition to gain an impulse to get out of spiritual and moral dormancy, cannot at this day be rightly estimated, its value is too great and precious and it is always increasing in beauty and power. It may seem strange, but I love dear Mrs. Eddy for her stinging rebukes to my sensuousness (the belief in the reality of material sensation of any sort), and for the sweet, tender application of the wonderful Christcure, —the manifestation of divine Love,—which she has so unselfishly made known to suffering humanity that they might partake of the "cup of blessing" with her.
