evil satisfaction:
“After my discovery of Christian Science, most of the knowledge I had
gleaned from school-books vanished like a dream.”
That disappearance accounts for much in her miscellaneous writings. As I
was saying, she handles her “ancestral shadows,” as she calls them, just
as I do mine. It is remarkable. When she runs across “a relative of my
Grandfather Baker, General Henry Knox, of Revolutionary fame,” she sets
him down; when she finds another good one, “the late Sir John Macneill,
in the line of my Grandfather Baker’s family,” she sets him down, and
remembers that he “was prominent in British politics, and at one time
held the position of ambassador to Persia”; when she discovers that her
grandparents “were likewise connected with Captain John Lovewell, whose
gallant leadership and death in the Indian troubles of 1722-25 caused
that prolonged contest to be known historically as Lovewell’s War,” she
sets the Captain down; when it turns out that a cousin of her grandmother
“was John Macneill, the New Hampshire general, who fought at Lundy’s Lane
and won distinction in 1814 at the battle of Chippewa,” she catalogues
the General. (And tells where Chippewa was.) And then she skips all her
platform people; never mentions one of them. It shows that she is just
as human as any of us.
Yet, after all, there is something very touching in her pride in these
worthy small-fry, and something large and fine in her modesty in not
caring to remember that their kinship to her can confer no distinction
upon her, whereas her mere mention of their names has conferred upon them
a faceless earthly immortality.
CHAPTER II
When she wrote this little biography her great life-work had already been
achieved, she was become renowned; to multitudes of reverent disciples
she was a sacred personage, a familiar of God, and His inspired channel
of communication with the human race. Also, to them these following
things were facts, and not doubted:
She had written a Bible in middle age, and had published it; she had
recast it, enlarged it, and published it again; she had not stopped
there, but had enlarged it further, polished its phrasing, improved its
form, and published it yet again. It was at last become a compact,
grammatical, dignified, and workman-like body of literature. This was
good training, persistent training; and in all arts it is training that
brings the art to perfection. We are now confronted with one of the most
teasing and baffling riddles of Mrs. Eddy’s history–a riddle which may
be formulated thus:
How is it that a primitive literary gun which began as a hundred-yard
flint-lock smooth-bore muzzle-loader, and in the course of forty years
has acquired one notable improvement after another–percussion cap; fixed
cartridge; rifled barrel; efficiency at half a mile how is it that such a
gun, sufficiently good on an elephant hunt (Christian Science) from the
beginning, and growing better and better all the time during forty years,
has always collapsed back to its original flint-lock estate the moment
the huntress trained it on any other creature than an elephant?
Something more than a generation ago Mrs. Eddy went out with her flint-
lock on the rabbit range; and this was a part of the result:
“After his decease, and a severe casualty deemed fatal by skilful
physicians, we discovered that the Principle of all healing and the law
that governs it is God, a divine Principle, and a spiritual not material
law, and regained health.”–Preface to Science and Health, first
revision, 1883.
N.B. Not from the book itself; from the Preface.
You will notice the awkwardness of that English. If you should carry
that paragraph up to the Supreme Court of the United States in order to
find out for good and all whether the fatal casualty happened to the dead
man–as the paragraph almost asserts–or to some person or persons not
even hinted at in the paragraph, the Supreme Court would be obliged to
say that the evidence established nothing with certainty except that
there had been a casualty–victim not known.
The context thinks it explains who the victim was, but it does nothing of
the kind. It furnishes some guessing-material of a sort which enables