They all achieve some cures, there is no question
about it; and the Faith Cure and the Prayer Cure probably
do no harm when they do no good, since they do not
forbid the patient to help out the cure with medicines
if he wants to; but the others bar medicines, and
claim ability to cure every conceivable human ailment
through the application of their mental forces alone.
There would seem to be an element of danger here.
It has the look of claiming too much, I think.
Public confidence would probably be increased if
less were claimed.
The Christian Scientist was not able to cure my stomach-ache
and my cold; but the horse-doctor did it. This
convinces me that Christian Science claims too much.
In my opinion it ought to let diseases alone and
confine itself to surgery. There it would have
everything its own way.
The horse-doctor charged me thirty kreutzers, and
I paid him; in fact, I doubled it and gave him a shilling.
Mrs. Fuller brought in an itemized bill for a crate
of broken bones mended in two hundred and thirty-four
places—one dollar per fracture.
“Nothing exists but Mind?”
“Nothing,” she answered. “All
else is substanceless, all else is imaginary.”
I gave her an imaginary check, and now she is suing
me for substantial dollars. It looks inconsistent.
Let us consider that we are all partially insane.
It will explain us to each other; it will unriddle
many riddles; it will make clear and simple many things
which are involved in haunting and harassing difficulties
and obscurities now.
Those of us who are not in the asylum, and not demonstrably
due there, are nevertheless, no doubt, insane in one
or two particulars. I think we must admit this;
but I think that we are otherwise healthy-minded.
I think that when we all see one thing alike, it
is evidence that, as regards that one thing, our minds
are perfectly sound. Now there are really several
things which we do all see alike; things which we all
accept, and about which we do not dispute. For
instance, we who are outside of the asylum all agree
that water seeks its level; that the sun gives light
and heat; that fire consumes; that fog is damp; that
six times six are thirty-six, that two from ten leaves
eight; that eight and seven are fifteen. These
are, perhaps, the only things we are agreed about;
but, although they are so few, they are of inestimable
value, because they make an infallible standard of
sanity. Whosoever accepts them him we know to
be substantially sane; sufficiently sane; in the working
essentials, sane. Whoever disputes a single one
of them him we know to be wholly insane, and qualified
for the asylum.
Very well, the man who disputes none of them we concede
to be entitled to go at large. But that is concession
enough. We cannot go any further than that;
for we know that in all matters of mere opinion that
same man is insane—just as insane as we
are; just as insane as Shakespeare was. We know
exactly where to put our finger upon his insanity:
it is where his opinion differs from ours.
