almost extirpated certain diseases and greatly mitigated the virulence of others; that its prophylactic methods in regard to epidemics that used periodically to scourge the most civilized nations are of proved and signal efficacy; and that by the use of anæsthetics and antiseptics it has assuaged an absolutely incalculable amount of human anguish. A writer in a recent number of The Nineteenth Century, describing the progress of medicine and surgery during the last sixty years, quotes an account given by a distinguished physician of his own experiences in undergoing a surgical operation before the days of anæsthesia. The passage is a painful one, but we shall be pardoned, we hope, for reproducing it, as it is very pertinent to the occasion:
"Of the agony occasioned I will say nothing. Suffering so great as I underwent can not be expressed in words, and thus fortunately can not be recalled. The particular pangs are now forgotten; but the black whirlwind of emotion, the horror of great darkness, and the sense of desertion by God and man, bordering close upon despair, which swept through my mind and overwhelmed my heart. I can never forget, however gladly I would do so. . . . Before the days of anæsthesia a patient preparing for an operation was like a condemned criminal preparing for execution. He counted the days till the appointed day came. He counted the hours of that day till the appointed hour came. He listened for the echo on the street of the surgeon's carriage. He watched for his pull at the door-bell; for his foot on the stairs; for his step in the room; for the production of his dreaded instruments; for his few grave words and his last preparations before beginning. And then he surrendered his liberty and, revolting at the necessity, submitted to be held or bound and helplessly gave himself up to the cruel knife."
Less than fifty years ago these were daily experiences; and whence did relief come? From any hocuspocus speculations upon mind and matter? From any looking away from phenomena and trying to disbelieve them out of existence? No, but from assuming the reality of phenomena, and bringing a material agent to bear on a physical condition. True, theological objections were raised to this new and most beneficent extension of medical science; but it would have taken more theology than was contained in all the catechisms to make the world renounce the new hope thus tendered to it. And now, if further progress is desired, can any sane and honest man doubt the direction in which it is to be sought? What science has done is but an earnest of what it will yet do. All that is needed is a patient following out of her methods—the first of which is a careful measuring and recognition of facts as they are—in order to reach forward to all possible good. We can only trust that many minds now entangled with "Christian science" will work their way to a knowledge and love of true science. If they do, they will gain a sense of intellectual emancipation such as they never before experienced; they will know also of the doctrine that its foundations are in the truth of things, and that its mission is the healing and regeneration of the human race.
THE WORLD AS IT IS.
In these bright summer days, when most of us get glimpses of rural scenery and not a few are privileged to enjoy it for days and weeks together, it would be fitting if we were occasionally to reflect how
