d
perceive that she had the temperament to dominate, to lead, to control,
not by any crude self-assertion, but a spiritual animus. Of course such
a personality, with the wonderful tumult in the air that her large and
enthusiastic following excited, fascinated the imagination. What had she
originated? I mentally questioned this modern St. Catherine who was
dominating her followers like any abbess of old. She told me the story
of her life, so far as outward events may translate those inner
experiences which alone are significant.

Mary Baker was the daughter of Mark and Abigail (Ambrose) Baker, and was
born in Concord, N.H., somewhere in the early decade of 1820-'30. At the
time I met her she must have been some sixty years of age, yet she had
the coloring and the elastic bearing of a woman of thirty, and this, she
told me, was due to the principles of Christian Science. On her father's
side Mrs. Eddy came from Scotch and English ancestry, and Hannah Moore
was a relative of her grandmother. Deacon Ambrose, her maternal
grandfather, was known as a "godly man," and her mother was a religious
enthusiast, a saintly and consecrated character. One of her brothers,
Albert Baker, graduated at Dartmouth and achieved eminence as a lawyer.

MRS. EDDY AS A CHILD.

As a child Mary Baker saw visions and dreamed dreams. When eight years
of age she began, like Jeanne d'Arc, to hear "voices," and for a year
she heard her name called distinctly, and would often run to her mother
questioning if she were wanted. One night the mother related to her the
story of Samuel, and bade her, if she heard the voice again to reply as
he did: "Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth." The call came, but the
little maid was afraid and did not reply. This caused her tears of
remorse and she prayed for forgiveness, and promised to reply if the
call came again. It came, and she answered as her mother had bidden her,
and after that it ceased.

These experiences, of which Catholic biographies are full, and which
history not unfrequently emphasizes, certainly offer food for
meditation. Theodore Parker related that when he was a lad at work in a
field one day on his father's farm at Lexington, an old man with a snowy
beard suddenly appeared at his side, and walked with him as he worked,
giving him high counsel and serious thought. All inquiry in the
neighborhood as to whence the stranger came or whither he went was
fruitless; no one else had seen him, and Mr.