The patient will find him unassuming in his manners, and no more ready to talk of his successes than other men of theirs. . . . He will explain to you his way of practice, give you the benefit of his treatment, entertain you with stereoscopic views of his theory or belief, and end off perhaps by explaining a few passages of Scripture. However, a man's belief is one thing, and his success in practice is another; this alone wins a favorable opinion and wise confidence. There can be no doubt that Dr. Q. has been the means of doing much good, as many patients from their homes, now in the enjoyment of health, are willing to testify. In some instances his treatment has been attended by the most unexpected and happy results, affording great and immediate relief, when hope almost had failed. These are not isolated cases, but none the less wonderful.
I will briefly relate the history of the following case, in which the ties of near consanguinity awakened the liveliest sympathy, and the happy termination of which was the cause of equal surprise and pleasure. A member of our family had, while in that transition period between happy childhood and budding womanhood, gradually lost the power of walking or standing, and for a number of years (some five or six) was wholly unable to make any use of her limbs whatever. There was no deformity, nor any discoverable lesion, but weakness, and all attempts to use them were attended by such excessive pain that they had to be given up. During this time she was confined exclusively to the house, as the jar of a carriage could not be borne; and often the tread of an incautious foot across the floor was productive of pain. She was visited by some of our most skilful practitioners, men of acknowledged ability and professors in popular colleges. They expressed a belief that in time a recovery might be hoped for.
Several years passed, and time brought no healing on its wings, but new causes of suffering. Her disease began to assume a much graver type—the eyes became morbidly sensitive to light, which increased to such an extent that the least degree of light seemed unbearable. The shutters were closed, curtains were drawn, and heavy blankets followed, tacked closely over the windows. The digestive powers became much impaired. The stomach, in failing to perform its office, sympathized with the rest of the system. . . . For five months the only nourishment that could be borne . . . was a
