call illness is merely a clouding of truth in
the soul by error."

"And how do you cure your patients who suffer from the error of typhoid
fever?"

"By the restoration of truth and their faith in truth."

"By what active means? What do you do?"

"We think of them. We bring our minds to bear upon the error in their
minds."

"Is that all?"

"It is sufficient, father. Mrs. Titus has effected wonderful cures by
this means only."

"Does she cure all her patients?"

"When she does not cure them, it is because error has blinded them to
the perception of truth. If all could perceive truth, there would be
no more error; and, as it is, there are many who cannot perceive as yet
even faintly."

"And this is all?"

"Yes, provided you understand."

"I understand the fundamental truth to be that matter does not exist."

"It does not."

"So that even our bodies are a sham."

"We believe that our bodies exist, but they do not really."

"Then why do you believe it?"

"I do not believe it, but I am not yet conscious that my body does not
exist. I hope to be some day, yet very likely I shall never be. Mrs.
Titus is conscious of the truth at times."

"Why do you say 'at times?'"

"Because she is still somewhat sensitive to the error of heat and cold.
She considers this a weakness, and she is willing to admit that she is
not wholly free from error. You see, Mrs. Titus is a perfectly
reasonable woman, father. I am sure you would think so, if you could
hear her talk. I heard her questioned the other day on that very point
of susceptibility to cold. Some one asked--and asked in a scoffing
spirit, father: 'Supposing you were to go out-doors, Mrs. Titus, with
nothing on, when the thermometer was below zero, should you feel cold?'
Her answer was: 'I fear I should, though I ought not to. It is
possible that after a while I might be proof against the weakness, but
in all probability I should never be able to overcome it. It is simply
a question of time, though, when Christian Science is able to subdue
this error.' Was that not unassumingly and beautifully put, father?"

"Quite unlike the brutal dogmatism of the regular practitioner, who
would be apt to recommend a strait-jacket for the individual who should
venture to brave the rigor of our New England climate without a stitch
of clothing."

Although I spoke with a sober and sympathetic mien, my beautiful
daughter plainly distrusted the sincerity of my words