THE GROWTH OF CHRISTIAN SCIENCE W By WILDER D. QUINT HEN a great and world-wide religious movement reaches a certain point in its development it is well for humanity in general, whether of it or outside it, to pause for a moment in the mad rush after material things and ask what it means; to survey it on all sides and from all angles impartially; to judge whence comes its strength and to estimate once and for all its appeal to the common heart of man. All but one of the tidal waves of religion that we know to-day have historical perspective, and can simply and easily be accounted for. Judaism, Brahminism, Buddhism, Christianity, Mohammedism, the Reformation-all have long since exhibited their own cause for being. Chance had no more part in their rising than it has in bringing to the gaze of mortals on this little spinning-top called the world some blazing comet marking the heavens with a trail of splendor never seen before by human eyes. And we are far enough away from the inception of them to recognize the truth. With that important spiritual and moral movement which has arisen within a generation and whose remarkable and ever-increasing power is a part of daily experience, the case is somewhat different. We find difficulty in seeing the forest because of the trees, so that a good many just and otherwise fair-minded observers are prone to lose their usual sense of perspective in the viewing of a new religion. That is why Christian Science, the latest and one of the most astonishing manifestations of mortal awakening, arouses a violence of controversial assault wholly out of proportion to the placidity and poise with which it proceeds on its way. It is not difficult to find reasons for this bitterness; one is that the movement seems to threaten the permanence of certain special interests; another that its serene confidence in itself somehow provokes its hotter-tempered foes to outbursts not wholly judicious. But the chief and truest of all may justly be said to be, so far as the great masses of the people are concerned, that it is seen very much out of focus by those who will not, or cannot, sanely adjust their mental lenses. But however it is seen, whatever is thought of it, Christian Science is a present-day, active force that must be reckoned with. It is here, and apparently to stay. It is spreading over the whole world. It is drawing to itself thousands upon thousands of the unsatisfied in other denominations and as many more of the altogether unchurched. No longer can jeremiads from the pulpits of older religious institutions drown out its voice; no more is the scorn of the medical profession it is so strongly influencing, sufficient to lessen its daily accessions of converts to any appreciable degree. If it ever were a theory, it is so no more, but a big, powerful, wealthy, highly intellectual condition that confronts us. Therefore, it is no longer the part of a sensible man to make faces like a little boy, or for any organization to bang on their tom-toms of abuse, hoping, like those mediaeval Chinese armies, to put the enemy to rout by mere noise. The Christian Science cohorts are curiously indifferent to anything approaching an attempted stampede. One day, when a little more of that let it come. I—I myself-was in love -with-Priscilla." And so, before that which I had rather not write is said, I would have hastened away, abashed but relieved, and like the paying guest departing, who discovers he has been given an excess of change, I should have attempted by the effusivness of my leavetaking to have distracted your thoughts from a proper reckoning. But, and there's the rub! I might want to pass this way again. So I'll depart in peace, taking nothing of yours with me but friendship's memory. It was a week earlier, and Glen was seated as now on the vine-shaded veranda overlooking the valley of peace. The day's work was ende 1 and the last shafts of crimson and gold were lying on the western hills. The rural postman had just brought the mail, and a part of it was the daily paper. Mechanically Glen spread it out before him. He could not avoid it. There it was, splurged out in great, garish headlines: "Another divorce in Upper Tendom." The heading sufficed. With consummate art all the hideous details were crowded into a dozen or so blacklettered lines. Incompatibility was alleged. As the laws of New York do not recognize that as grounds for divorce, the petitioner had gone to Dakota to secure a residence. Glen read no more, but the face in the picture accompanying the story burned itself into his memory. Slowly he tore the paper into ribbons and settled back in his chair, letting his gaze rove down the declivity of pasture and meadow, woodland and swale, and on up the heights to the glory of the sunset beyond. All, all spoke of peace, plenty, and contentment. He shook his strong young frame as though waking from a sleep, and was about to rise, but the sound of a voice from the house restrained him. It was the voice of Constance, youthful, happy, and sweet, singing softly a lullaby. "Ol' Mammy Coon am huntin' in de darkness ob de bresh, Huntin' fo' a li'l one dat she los'. Or she sees dem shinin' maybe, An' she t'ink dat yo' belong to her, ob korse. Dat li'l coon, he sof' as silk, and brown as butternut, Eyes like stars a-twinklin' in de night. But if dey shut, ma baby, den yo' needn't be afeard. Mammy Coon, she hab to let yo' be. She moved to where Glen sat and with her strong, brown hands that showed she was used to out-of-doors, she caressed the chestnut locks on his forehead as his head lay back. He reached up and captured one of the little hands and held it a willing prisoner, while he smiled up into her laughing eyes. "Got that Glen boy to sleep, finally?" he asked. "Yes," answered Constance, "I gave him that cotton mooley cow he's devoted to and he went to sleep with it in his arms. The doctor says he's a chip of the old block for love of animals. I know he is for contrariness." He pinched the firm, warm flesh of her arm in punishment. "Are you happy, dear?" she asked, bending her head until her brown hair swept his face. "Happy, my precious, my wife?" he replied. "Yes, very happy. Happy in the blessed heritage of toil and the strength to do it; happy in a few rare friendships; happy in the sight of these glorious, everlasting hills, and happy, O, my very own, in your dear love." The End NOTE-Readers of the magazine who have found enjoyment in Winslow Hall's story, "Glen Noble," as it has appeared in these pages, will undoubtedly be pleased to possess the novel in book form. Necessarily the narrative has been considerably curtailed to fit it for serial publication, and much of the book that is sweet and strong has been unavoidably omitted. In its entirety, this exceptional story of New England, with its love, adventure, and wholesome sentiment will well repay a rereading. -The Editor. THE GROWTH OF CHRISTIAN SCIENCE W By WILDER D. QUINT THEN a great and world-wide religious movement reaches a certain point in its development it is well for humanity in general, whether of it or outside it, to pause for a moment in the mad rush after material things and ask what it means; to survey it on all sides and from all angles impartially; to judge whence comes its strength and to estimate once and for all its appeal to the common heart of man. All but one of the tidal waves of religion that we know to-day have historical perspective, and can simply and easily be accounted for. Judaism, Brahminism, Buddhism, Christianity, Mohammedism, the Reformation-all have long since exhibited their own cause for being. Chance had no more part in their rising than it has in bringing to the gaze of mortals on this little spinning-top called the world some blazing comet marking the heavens with a trail of splendor never seen before by human eyes. And we are far enough away from the inception of them to recognize the truth. With that important spiritual and moral movement which has arisen within a generation and whose remarkable and ever-increasing power is a part of daily experience, the case is somewhat different. We find difficulty in seeing the forest because of the trees, so that a good many just and otherwise fair-minded observers are prone to lose their usual sense of perspective in the viewing of a new religion. That is why Christian Science, the latest and one of the most astonishing manifestations of mortal awakening, arouses a violence of controversial assault wholly out of proportion. to the placidity and poise with which it proceeds on its way. It is not difficult to find reasons for this bitterness; one is that the movement seems to threaten the permanence of certain special interests; another that its serene confidence in itself somehow provokes its hotter-tempered foes to outbursts not wholly judicious. But the chief and truest of all may justly be said to be, so far as the great masses of the people are concerned, that it is seen very much out of focus by those who will not, or cannot, sanely adjust their mental lenses. But however it is seen, whatever is thought of it, Christian Science is a present-day, active force that must be reckoned with. It is here, and apparently to stay. It is spreading over the whole world. It is drawing to itself thousands upon thousands of the unsatisfied in other denominations and as many more of the altogether unchurched. No longer can jeremiads from the pulpits of older religious institutions drown out its voice; no more is the scorn of the medical profession it is so strongly influencing, sufficient. to lessen its daily accessions of converts to any appreciable degree. If it ever were a theory, it is so no more, but a big, powerful, wealthy, highly intellectual condition that confronts us. Therefore, it is no longer the part of a sensible man to make faces like a little boy, or for any organization to bang on their tom-toms of abuse, hoping, like those mediaeval Chinese armies, to put the enemy to rout by mere noise. The Christian Science cohorts are curiously indifferent to anything approaching an attempted stampede. One day, when a little more of that highly essential time-perspective has been attained, some historian with a keen sense of the romantic in religion and the just appreciation of a mental concept that appeals to the heart, will write the story of the earlier days of Christian Science as it should be written. That time has not yet come. But even now there is a certain fascination in comparing the slender, tentative, half discouraging beginning with the triumphant facts of 1909. Consider that only thirty years ago there was only one Christian Science Church in all the world-the original organization in Boston. Surely a far cry, an eloquent passage across the gap of time, from those first meetings in a little room with rarely more than a score in attendance, to the customary audiences of thousands in the majestic temple that is now the very cathedral of the faith, holding in its sheltering arms the lesser structure of the Mother Church, as dear to Scientists the world over as the ark of the covenant to old Judea. Much has been written and pictured of this magnificent church, second to none in America for beauty and dignity, and no further description of its architectural strength or its decorative skill is needed here. It may well be taken to represent Christian Science |