For this," lifting the box, "if all depended upon this, I should rest. It is nature's own."
"Nature!"
"Why do you start?"
"I know not," with a sort of shudder, "but I have heard of a book entitled 'Nature in Disease.' "
"A title I cannot approve; it is suspiciously scientific. 'Nature in Disease?' As if nature, divine nature, were aught but health; as if through nature disease is decreed! But did I not before hint of the tendency of science, that forbidden tree? Sir, if despondency is yours from recalling that title, dismiss it. Trust me, nature is health; for health is good, and nature cannot work ill. As little can she work error. Get nature, and you get well. Now, I repeat, this medicine is nature's own."
Again the sick man could not, according to his light, conscientiously disprove what was said. Neither, as before, did he seem over-anxious to do so; the less, as in his sensitiveness it seemed to him, that hardly could he offer so to do without something like the appearance of a kind of implied irreligion; nor in his heart was he ungrateful, that since a spirit opposite to that pervaded all the herb-doctor's hopeful words, therefore, for hopefulness, he (the sick man) had not alone medical warrant, but also doctrinal.
"Then you do really think," hectically, "that if I take this medicine," mechanically reaching out for it, "I shall regain my health?"
"I will not encourage false hopes," relinquishing to
