PHILLIP STANLEY'S FIRST DEMONSTRATION.
A week after the return of Prof. Seabrook, Dr. Stanley ventured to
transfer his patient to his native city. He was desirous of
getting him away before the general flitting back to Hilton, in
order to prevent awkward meetings and complications.
The young man had improved steadily, and his physician had found
him, as a rule, very patient and tractable. He avoided talking
about himself, and never again referred to the conversation that
had occurred a few days after his accident. He read a great deal,
conversed freely of politics, current events, etc., and evidently
tried to cause as little trouble as possible.
He was often seriously thoughtful, a circumstance which his
observant attendant regarded as a favorable indication, while, now
and then, he would drop a word that betrayed his appreciation of
the rare kindness he was receiving. In arranging for his
transportation Dr. Stanley neglected nothing that would contribute
to his comfort, and he made the trip without the slightest
inconvenience, although he betrayed a sense of restlessness as he
neared his destination, for he had not even asked what was to
become of him upon his arrival, and could not quite conceal his
anxiety on that point.
When he was lifted out upon the platform at the station, in his
own city, his astonished glance fell first upon his sister, a
sweet girl of seventeen, then upon his father, both of whom
greeted him as if there had never been a barrier between them.
He flushed a remorseful scarlet and lifted an inquiring look to
Dr. Stanley.
"Yes, Ned, I plead guilty," he smilingly confessed. "I did not
feel justified in keeping your family in ignorance of your
condition, and Mr. Willard telegraphed me that he would meet us on
our arrival."
"And, Ned, we have everything so nicely fixed for you at home,"
his sister here interposed, for she saw he was half dazed by the
unexpected meeting. "Bridge--the same old girl--and I have put
your room in apple-pie order; your books and pictures just as you
used to have them, and"--with a ripple of musical laughter--"you
are going to have cream toast with your dinner. It was your
favorite dish, you know, and mamma is making it herself. She
wouldn't trust anybody else, for fear there would be lumps in it.
But here come the men," she concluded, cutting herself short, as
two muscular fellows came forward to transfer the bamboo litter to
a waiting ambulance.
"And I will come around in the morning to take a look at that
cast. I think we'll have it off altogether before long," observed
Dr. Stanley, as he held out his hand to take leave of his patient,
who could only wring it in silence. Then he was borne away.
When the Seabrooks and Katherine arrived at Hilton, on the day
previous to the opening of the school, they were joyfully welcomed
by Jennie, who not only had everything in order for the principal
and his family, but had, with loving hands, also made Katherine
and Sadie's room immaculate and gorgeously decorated it with
autumn leaves and golden-rod in honor of their return.
Katherine could see that the girl's recent trying experience had
subdued her somewhat; but, otherwise, she was the same original,
irrepressible Jennie as ever.
"How I love you!" she cried, when she was left alone with
Katherine, while Sadie was out of the room for a few moments, and
supplementing her statement with another vigorous hug. "And you
look dearer than ever, if that could be possible; and what a fine
time you've all been having down there by the sea! Dr. Stanley has
told me all about it, and"--with a grimace--"I guess you've been
busy, too, doctoring some of the materia medica out of him--eh?"
"What do you mean?" Katherine inquired, but flushing under the
fire of the girl's mischievous eyes.
"Oh! he doesn't make any bones of it; he told me all about
Dorothy--how sick she was, and what your mother did for her,
though he said, of course, it must not be talked here. I suppose
he made an exception of me, because he knows how I love the
Seabrooks and you, and then I can see for myself how flip he is
with the 'new tongue.'"
"Jennie!" exclaimed Katherine, in a shocked tone. Then she added:
"What do you know about the 'new tongue'?"
"I'm always saying the wrong thing," said the girl, in a repentant
voice; "but, truly, I didn't mean to be irreverent--I only wanted
you to know how pat the doctor reels off the scientific phrases;
and"--assuming an important air--"I guess I know that Christian
Science is the 'new tongue' spoken of in the Bible. I've been to
the service all summer; auntie went with me, too, and thought it
was beautiful"--this with a sudden break in her voice--"and I've
got the book," she resumed. "I bought it with my pin-money. One of
the Scientists was going to get a revised pocket edition, and said
she'd let me have her old one for half price. She said the Science
is all in it, and so I thought it would do until I could afford to
buy a new one."
Katherine's eyes grew moist as she listened to this, and she told
herself that the dear child should also have a new revised pocket
edition when Christmas came.
Looking back over the months that had elapsed since she first came
to Hilton, she was almost overwhelmed, in view of the changed
thought that had crept into the school. She had sown but the
tiniest seed of Truth when she had told Prof. Seabrook that
"Christian Science was a religion of Love and she would simply try
to live it"; but its rootlets had taken firm hold beneath the
surface of an unpromising soil; its germ had shot upwards and
flourished, in spite of an adverse atmosphere, spreading abroad
its branches with bud and blossom and fruitage, until now a goodly
harvest was being gathered in. There were Miss Reynolds, Mrs.
Seabrook and Dorothy, Jennie and Dr. Stanley, all ready to avow
themselves as adherents of Truth, with Sadie, Prof. Seabrook and--
she was beginning to hope--Ned Willard looking towards the Light;
and her heart was flooded with a great joy.
"What are you thinking about, Miss Minturn?" Jennie ventured to
inquire when she had borne the silence as long as she could.
Katharine came to herself with a sudden start.
"Excuse me, dear," she said, with a deprecatory smile. "But what
you have just told me sent my thoughts wandering back over all
that has happened since I came here last winter. I did not mean to
be heedless, and I am very glad that you wanted the book enough to
buy it. Now"--laying a fond hand on her shoulder--"you are to drop
'Miss Minturn" here and now. You and I are going to be like
sisters--we are sisters in Truth already, for you are coming to us
after this for all your vacations. You must have a home, you know,
and I think you will be happy with us."
"Happy!" cried Jennie, choking up suddenly. "Why, I--I--think it
will be just h--hea--venly!" and down went the curly black head
upon her hands to hide the tears she could not wipe away, for, as
was frequently the case, her handkerchief was not forthcoming when
most needed.
Katherine slipped hers into her hand, for she heard Sadie
returning, and, a few minutes later, the three girls were engaged
in an animated discussion of plans for the coming year.
The school opened with a full house again; indeed, it was more
than full, for Prof. Seabrook was obliged to secure rooms for half
a dozen new pupils with some families outside, and began to
seriously consider the advisability of extending the wings of the
building before the beginning of another year.
We cannot follow the experiences of our friends during the ensuing
ten months, in detail; and, in fact, but little out of the
ordinary occurred to mark their passing.
It will be of interest, perhaps, to know that Prof. Seabrook, true
to his word, made a careful perusal of "Science and Health," but
he did not find it easy to get out of old ruts, and there was many
a hard-fought battle with preconceived opinions and long-treasured
creeds and doctrines. Many a time he threw down his book with a
revival of his old antagonism, but a look at Dorrie--whose general
health had become almost perfect, and who was now manifesting the
keenest interest in the studies which she had insisted upon taking
up--was like a "peace, be still" to the tempest and oil upon the
turbulent waters, and he resumed his investigations with such
determination to know the Truth, that, finally, he was enabled to
say with one of old, "I begin to see as through a glass darkly."
Miss Reynolds became a greater power than ever in the school. She
had always been attractive, and the students loved her, but now
there was an added charm and sweetness that irresistibly drew
everyone to her. She made no secret of the change in her views,
although she never forced them upon anyone. She attended the
service on Grove Street regularly, with Katherine, and Jennie also
was numbered with the same congregation.
Dr. Stanley found his position unique and by no means an enviable
one. Before going abroad he had built up a fine practice, and most
of his patients came back to him on his return, while new ones had
flocked to him. Now, however, with his changed thought, he found
it exceedingly difficult to decide just what course to pursue,
when those who, hitherto, had placed unbounded confidence in him
now called upon him to minister again to their necessities.
But he had chosen his path. Having become convinced that God and
God alone "forgiveth all iniquities and healeth all diseases," he
had declared that he would never again diagnose a case in accord
with the laws of materia medica, write another medical
prescription, or deal out ineffectual drugs. Neither did he, as
yet, feel that he was prepared to announce himself a Christian
Science practitioner. So, when called to his former patients, he
had felt it his duty to state his position and, as an "entering
wedge," suggest that they give the Science a trial for their
infirmities. Some had openly scoffed at him; others had acted upon
his advice, and were greatly benefited; while, in a few instances,
he had offered to try what he himself could do, and, to his great
joy, had made his demonstration. But the majority dropped him and
went over to rival practitioners.
Then he began to push out into the byways and hedges. He sought
out the suffering poor more than he had ever done before, and here
he found a field "ready to harvest," where he could preach the
"new gospel" and prove the promise, "The works that I do shall ye
do also if ye believe on Me."
So the growth in his own consciousness went on while he was
"casting his bread upon the waters," and he also might have been
seen, nearly every Sunday morning, in one of the rear seats in the
hall on Grove Street, listening intently to the service.
One supreme joy came to him during this time.
Ned Willard's improvement had been phenomenally rapid after his
return home, and, to his family, the change in himself appeared no
less remarkable.
He was now always considerate of and courteous to every member of
the household, frequently expressing grateful appreciation of
their care and kindness, while an oath, which once had been a
frequent offense to their ears, was now never heard to pass his
lips.
One morning, while making his accustomed visit, Dr. Stanley
observed that his patient was strangely silent and thoughtful,
seeming disinclined to talk, although he suggested several topics
to attract his attention. He was just on the point of rising to
go, thinking it wiser to leave him to his mood, when he suddenly
broke forth:
"I say, Stanley, what have you been doing to me?"
"'Doing to you!' I am not sure that I catch your meaning."
"Well, when I tumbled helplessly into your hands, down there in
Massachusetts, you told me you were using Christian Science
treatment, and asked me if I objected. I thought it all 'bosh';
but, as you know, told you I didn't care, provided the method
brought right results. I thought that if things did not go O. K.
you would slip back to the old way, so I felt perfectly safe. But
now I begin to feel some curiosity regarding this peculiar mode,
process, or whatever it may be, for not only has my leg got well--
it is practically well--quicker than I supposed it possible for a
broken bone to mend, but I feel mended in other ways," he
concluded, with some embarrassment.
"What do you mean, Ned?"
"Well, physically, I feel like a new man--kind of clean and fresh,
through and through. Then"--flushing--"I am amazed that I haven't
been crazy for drink; but I do not seem to want it--I do not even
care to smoke, and--"
"Yes," said his companion, kindly.
"Oh! hang it! Stanley, it isn't easy to tell it, but I'm going to;
I feel as if an X-ray had been turned upon my mentality, showing
me what a blamed fool I've made of myself during the last few
years, making me wish I could blot it all out and take a sharp
turn in another direction. How's that for humble pie! I declare, I
don't know myself!" he concluded, apologetically.
Dr. Stanley was literally stricken speechless. His heart was too
full for utterance. Surely this "fruit of the Spirit" was ripening
far earlier than he had dared to hope, although he had worked on
the case with all the understanding he possessed, in connection
with frequent correspondence with Mrs. Minturn for counsel.
"What have you been doing, doc?" Willard repeated. "I've heard
that Christian Science treatment is wholly mental, but you have
been doing some fine talking, first and last. Some of it has cut
home and some has gone over my head. Does your science reform the
drunkard as well as mend broken bones? I remember you once asked
me if I'd like to be freed from it. Upon my word, I believe it
does, though I'm not going to boast until I get out and can prove
it. Have you been treating me for that, Stanley?"
"Yes, I have been trying to make you realize your birthright--your
God-given dominion over all things," said his friend, in a voice
that faltered in spite of himself; "have tried to make you know
that you were 'free-born.'"
"Hold on! Now you are soaring over my head again," interposed the
young man. "Just make that clearer in your own language, please.
Bible phraseology always seemed like Choctaw to me."
"Well, then, Christian Science teaches that God made man the
perfect image and likeness of Himself and gave him power to
reflect or manifest His dominion over all beings. It follows,
then, that man was never in bondage to anything--habit, appetite,
disease or sin; so he was 'free-born.'"
"Then how does it happen we find him so tangled up in all sorts of
deviltry?" demanded Willard.
"We find the mortal 'tangled up,' as you express it, because he
has set himself up as an independent entity and claims this entity
can be governed by evil instead of good--with lies instead of
truth, with sickness instead of health."
"You emphasize the word 'mortal'; so you make a distinction
between a man and a mortal?"
"Yes; the mortal is the counterfeit of the real man, like a bogus
dollar bill, with no gold or principal to back it. He arrogantly
assumes that he has a will of his own, and this will is
subordinate to no other unless he chooses to make it so. But we
find that he reasons falsely when we see how he becomes the slave
of all sorts of evil that ultimates in sickness and death,"
explained Dr. Stanley.
"Humph! Then, according to your logic, the Ned Willard whom you
know is simply a mortal, physical manifestation of will power,
catering to his own appetites and desires, and so becoming their
bond servant, and there is no true image and likeness of God, or
real man about him," was the young man's half-quizzical rejoinder.
"Granted," he went on, more seriously, "I think I am beginning to
see him as he is and has appeared to others. But now comes the
question, 'How is this same Ned Willard going to get rid of the
undesirable mortal and find the man?' It looks a hopeless task to
me."
"You are using the scalpel very freely upon yourself, my boy,"
said Phillip Stanley, in his friendliest tone. "But let us see if
there isn't a different kind of blade that will serve us better.
If you were cruelly bound with thongs, and some friend should pass
you a keen-edged knife, you would not sit hopelessly looking at
your bonds and still continue to bemoan your bondage; you would
instantly begin to sever the thongs and so regain your liberty. In
Christian Science we find the 'sword of Truth' with which we begin
to cut away, one by one, the bonds of mortal falsities, habits,
appetites and belief in evil until, eventually, we shall find our
freedom and true manhood."
"That sounds very promising, as you put it, though the how of it
seems rather vague. But, by all that's honest, I would like to get
at the secret of it," and the young man turned a frank, earnest
face to his companion as he concluded.
"This will reveal it. Will you read it if I leave it with you?"
and Dr. Stanley drew forth a pocket edition of "Science and
Health" and laid it upon his knee.
Willard opened it and glanced at the title-page.
"Thank you; I shall be glad to look it through," he replied.
"You will need a Bible to go with it," said his companion, lifting
his eyes to a bookcase near him.
"You'll not find one there," his patient observed, with a short
laugh. "Bibles and I have had nothing in common this many a year.
However, there are plenty about the house."
Dr. Stanley shortly after took his leave and went away to visit
other hungry ones, a reverent joy in his heart and on his lips the
paean of David, "Who is so great a God as our God?"
A few weeks later Edwin Willard walked briskly into his office,
his handsome face all aglow with health, a new hope and purpose
shining in his eyes.
"I'm off, Stanley!" he said, in cheery, eager tones as he laid his
friend's "little book" on his desk. "I've just slipped in to
return this and bid you au revoir."
"Off!" repeated Phillip Stanley, in surprise. "Where to? what
for?"
"I'm going to Washington, as private secretary to the Hon.----,
United States Senator from Pennsylvania. He was a classmate of my
father's at Yale, and asked the governor, the other day, if he
could suggest some one for the position," Willard explained. "It's
very sudden, but it's great luck, though this"--touching the book
he had just laid down--"teaches there's no such thing as luck. The
salary won't permit me to keep up a spread-eagle style at
present"--with a light-hearted laugh--"but I have a promise of
more later on, and it may be the stepping-stone to something
better; and, Stanley, I'm bent on going higher, in more ways than
one," he concluded, in a confidential tone.
"Ned, I am more glad than I can tell you, and my best wishes go
with you," heartily returned his friend. "Wouldn't you like to
take the book along as a souvenir?" he asked, pushing it towards
him.
"Thanks, I've just bought one for myself, and I don't need any
souvenirs to remind me of you; for, Stanley, all I am and all I
hope to be I owe to you, or--I suppose you would prefer me to say-
-to God, through you. But if I am to catch that fast express I
must skip. I'll write to you, though, when I am settled."
The two men clasped hands and looked deep into each other's eyes
for a moment; then the younger turned abruptly away and left the
room, the elder gravely watching the manly form as it sped, with
alert and vigorous steps, down the street.
"God bless the boy!" he said, in a low tone; "he has 'got at the
secret of it' at last, and his life henceforth will be crowned
with joy and peace."