cured they specified cancers. The cases described had
been treated and given over by physicians of the popular schools of
medicine, but I had not heard of these cases till the persons who divulged
their secret joy were healed. A prominent churchman agreeably informed the
congregation that many others present had been healed under my preaching,
but were too timid to testify in public.

One memorable Sunday afternoon, a soprano,--clear, strong,
sympathetic,--floating up from the pews, caught my ear. When the meeting
was over, two ladies pushing their way through the crowd reached the
platform. With tears of joy flooding her eyes--for she was a mother--one of
them said, "Did you hear my daughter sing? Why, she has not sung before
since she left the choir and was in consumption! When she entered this
church one hour ago she could not speak a loud word, and now, oh, thank
God, she is healed!"

It was not an uncommon occurrence in my own church for the sick to be
healed by my sermon. Many pale cripples went into the church leaning on
crutches who went out carrying them on their shoulders. "And these signs
shall follow them that believe."

The charter for The Mother Church in Boston was obtained June, 1879,[B] and
the same month the members, twenty-six in number, extended a call to Mary
B.G. Eddy to become their pastor. She accepted the call, and was ordained
A.D. 1881.

THE COUNTRY-SEAT

Written in youth, while visiting a family friend in the beautiful suburbs
of Boston.

Wild spirit of song,--midst the zephyrs at play
In bowers of beauty,--I bend to thy lay,
And woo, while I worship in deep sylvan spot,
The Muses' soft echoes to kindle the grot.
Wake chords of my lyre, with musical kiss,
To vibrate and tremble with accents of bliss.

Here morning peers out, from her crimson repose,
On proud Prairie Queen and the modest Moss-rose;
And vesper reclines--when the dewdrop is shed
On the heart of the pink--in its odorous bed;
But Flora has stolen the rainbow and sky,
To sprinkle the flowers with exquisite dye.

Here fame-honored hickory rears his bold form,
And bares a brave breast to the lightning and storm,
While palm, bay, and laurel, in classical glee,
Chase tulip, magnolia, and fragrant fringe-tree;
And sturdy horse-chestnut for centuries hath given
Its feathery blossom and branches to heaven.

Here is life! Here is youth! Here