he power and genuineness of
spiritual religion, and ought not to have dropped out of the Church.
The divine commission to preach the gospel and heal the sick, never
rightly could have been severed in twain, because they are only
different sides of one Whole. By what authority is one part declared
binding through ages and the other ignored? Who will assert that God
is changeable, so that any divinely bestowed boon to one age could be
withdrawn from a subsequent one? The direct assurance of the Christ,
that "these signs shall follow them that believe," is perpetual in its
scope, because "them that believe" are limited to no age, race, or
condition. As ecclesiasticism and materialism crept into the early
church, and personal ambitions and worldly policies sapped its
vitality, spiritual transparency and brotherly love faded out, and
with them went the power--or rather the recognition of the power--to
heal.

Wonderful works are not limited alone to those who accept the
Christian religion; but in proportion as other systems recognize the
supremacy of the spiritual element, and catch even a partial glow of
"that true light which lighteth every man that cometh into the world,"
their intrinsic qualities will be made outwardly manifest. A right
conception of God, as infinite present Good, strongly aids in
producing the expression of health. "In Him we live, and move, and
have our being." An abiding concept of such truth directly promotes
trust, harmony, healing. Seeming ills are not God-created powers, but
human perversions and reflected images of subjective states. As a
higher and spiritual standpoint is gained, apparent evils dissolve,
and then in bold relief is seen the fair proportions of the Kingdom of
the Real.

[Illustration: MR. AND MRS. JAS. A. HERNE.]

MR. AND MRS. HERNE.

BY HAMLIN GARLAND.

In May last, in a small hall in Boston, on a stage of planking, hung
with drapery, was produced one of the most radical plays from a native
author ever performed in America. Mr. and Mrs. James A. Herne, unable
to obtain a hearing in the theatres for their play, which had been
endorsed by some of the best known literary men of the day, were
forced to hire a hall, and produce _Margaret Fleming_ bare of all
mechanical illusion, and shorn of all its scenic and atmospheric
effects. Everybody, even their friends, prophesied disaster. In such
surroundings failure seemed certain. But a few who knew the play and
its au