Modern Saints and Seers Part 13

Health, according to the Scientists, is truth. In order to enjoy existence, we must live in the truth and avoid sin, and ultimately death itself will disappear, being entirely superfluous. Jesus said that whoso believed on Him should never see death, and He would not have said this if death were necessary for salvation. Therefore believers are taught that humanity will in time conquer sickness and death, and that this blessed consummation will be reached when human beings attain to the heights of the Christian Science "gospel," and are guided by it in all the thoughts and actions of their everyday life.

Other equally enchanting prospects are conjured up, like mirages in the desert, before the dazzled eyes of Mrs. Eddy's followers. Making use of the ancient conception of angels, she teaches that such beings are always close at hand, for angels are "G.o.d's thoughts pa.s.sing to man; spiritual intuitions, pure and perfect." "These angels of His presence . . . abound in the spiritual atmosphere of Mind."

Thus Christian Science is seen to be a religion of health, longevity and happiness, the fruits of spiritual action; a religion which denies both the theoretical and practical existence of matter.

There are, however, occasions when the invocations of "science" prove powerless to deal with rebellious matter. But this does not embarra.s.s Mrs. Eddy. She considers that her doctrine is in advance of the age, and that men themselves must progress in order to rise to its level.

Their spirits will then become pure and perfect, and matter will have no more power over them. Man will be able to live quite differently, for hygienic conditions--even those considered most indispensable--will no longer be of any importance.

One of the most irresistible attractions of Christian Science lies in its declaration that it will be possible at some future time to overcome death--a dream that has been known in all epochs. Yet, for all our love of life, how unprofitably we squander it! Our normal life could be prolonged to a hundred and fifty, or even two hundred years,[1] but we have stupidly imposed upon ourselves an artificial barrier which we scarcely ever surpa.s.s!

Mrs. Eddy knew well what charm the possibility of destroying the "King of Terrors" would add to her doctrine, and she made effective use of it.

We may note that the idea of overcoming death can be traced back for some three thousand years or so. Hermes, the "Thrice Greatest One,"

taught that only "by error" had death become installed upon our planet, and that nothing in the world could ever be lost. "Death does not exist; the word 'mortal' is void of meaning, and is merely the word 'immortal' without its first syllable." He taught further that the world was the second G.o.d, immortal and alive, and that no part of it could ever die; that "the eternal" and "the immortal" must not be confused, for "the eternal" was G.o.d Uncreate, while the world which He had created and made in His own image was endowed with His immortality.

Hermes also suggested that it was only necessary to send our bodily sensations to sleep in order to awake in G.o.d and rejoice in immortality!

There was a close relationship between Hermes, the Essenes of Egypt, and St. John, the author of _Revelation_. Indeed, if we search carefully, we find that the Gnostics of every school believed in the possibility of banishing death from the earth.

"Whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life." (St. John iv. 14).

And what superiority over the claims of Mrs. Eddy is shown by Hermes, when he declares that in order to reach the spiritual worlds we only need to free ourselves from sensation!

Unsuspected sources of inspiration, as yet unutilised, abound in the writings of the Pythagoreans, the Essenes, and even the Neo-Platonists.

The creators of future religions are likely to draw much water from these wells, but Christian Science can lay claim to be the first to have made use of the mysticism of the past in a practical fashion, so that its adherents rejoice in the prospect of endless life, even as did the visionaries of former ages.

When one examines the doctrine closely, its lack of originality becomes apparent. The idea that matter does not exist has had numerous protagonists in the realms of philosophy, and is ardently defended by Berkeley. In the dialogues of Hylas and Philonous, the latter speaks of the "absolute impossibility" of matter, which has no existence apart from spirit. But Mrs. Eddy succeeded in giving this purely metaphysical conception a concrete value in the affairs of every-day life.

She opened the first _School of Christian Science Mind-healing_ in 1867 with one student; towards the end of the century her followers numbered close on a hundred thousand; while to-day the "Mother Church" can boast over a million adherents, to say nothing of its financial resources.

Without doubt suggestion is the basis of the miraculous cures which are the pride of Christian Science, but the prophetess and her followers have always denied this. As Jesus ignored the power of suggestion, they also must not only ignore it, but wage merciless war upon it.

They deny both suggestion and matter, while making use of each--but neither the use of suggestion nor the doctrine of the non-existence of matter could alone or together have procured for the new sect its truly phenomenal success. That is due largely to ingenious methods of publicity, on the most modern lines (and is not advertis.e.m.e.nt itself one of the most effective forms of suggestion?). When one miraculous cure after another was announced, money flowed in, and Mrs. Eddy made use of it to increase the numbers of believers. Adapting herself to the mentality of her hearers, or readers, she demanded large fees for the manifestations of the "spirit" which was incarnated in herself and her helpers, and left behind her when she died, an immense personal fortune, and hundreds of prosperous churches. "Matter" does not seem to be altogether negligible, even for pure spirits who do not believe in its existence, and consider it an invention of the devil!

[1] See _La Philosophie de la Longevite_ (Bibliotheque de Philosophie Contemporaine, Felix Alcan, 12th edition), by Jean Finot.

CHAPTER II

SCHLATTER, THE MIRACLE-MAN

The town of Denver, the "pearl of Colorado," was _en fete_. Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims were flocking to it from all parts of America, and all, immediately they arrived, made straight for the house of Alderman Fox, where dwelt Francis Schlatter, the greatest miracle-worker of the century. For two months Denver was able to contemplate an unparalleled variety of invalids with illnesses both rare and common, all--or nearly all--of whom departed rea.s.sured as to their progress, if not completely cured. The trains were overcrowded, the hotels overflowed with visitors, and all the States rang with hymns of praise in honour of Schlatter, the saint of Denver.

But perpetual joy is not of this world. On the 14th of November, 1895, there were still thousands of people outside Alderman Fox's house, but their grief and despair were pitiable to witness. The women sobbed, the men cursed, and all this, mingled with the woeful complaints of the sick, created an extraordinary atmosphere in the usually gay and cheerful town.

The cause of it was that Saint Schlatter had fled from Colorado without warning in the night--whether for a short time or for ever n.o.body knew.

The news spread far and wide, the affair a.s.sumed the proportions of a public calamity, and the _Rocky Morning News_ and other Colorado journals shed copious tears over the sad lot of the abandoned pilgrims.

Even the American newspapers, which so often foresee events that never happen, had not been able to foresee this thunderbolt that had descended in the midst of their readers.

On the previous day the saint had, as usual, given his blessing to the thousands of pilgrims gathered from all quarters, and had appeared to be in his customary state of serene kindliness. Nothing had suggested his desertion--for the disappointed crowds considered it a desertion indeed. Even Alderman Fox, deeply troubled as he was, could offer no consolation to his fellow-citizens. He, who was formerly stone-deaf, had gone one day to see Schlatter at Omaha, and when the latter took his hand his deafness had completely disappeared. Full of grat.i.tude, he offered Schlatter a large sum of money, which was refused. He then offered the hospitality of his house at Denver, and this being accepted, Schlatter arrived there, preceded by the glory of his saintly reputation and his miraculous cures. Two months pa.s.sed thus, and never had prophet a more devoted and enthusiastic disciple than the worthy alderman of Colorado's capital city. Then fell the blow!

When Alderman Fox had entered his guest's room the night before, the bed was empty. Dressed just as he had arrived, in his unique costume, Schlatter had disappeared, leaving behind him as sole trace of his visit this message:--"Mr. Fox--my mission is ended, and the Father calls me. I salute you. Francis Schlatter. November 13th."

After that he was sought for in vain. He who "intoxicated the weak soul of the people"--to quote one of the Colorado clergy--and made the land of sin ring with songs of heavenly triumph, had completely disappeared. In the words of another of them, "the plant that had grown up in barren soil was withered away by the wrath of G.o.d."

But the grief of those who had believed in him lasted for many years.

Schlatter was born in Alsace in 1855, and after his arrival in America he followed many avocations, finally adopting that of a "holy man."

With head and feet bare, he traversed the States from one end to another, and proclaimed himself a messenger of heaven. He preached the love of G.o.d and peace among men. He was imprisoned, and continued to preach, and though his fellow-prisoners at first mocked at him, they ended by listening.

He only had to place his hand on the heads of the sick, and they were cured. After being released from prison, he went to Texas. His peculiar dress, bare feet, and long hair framing a face which seemed indeed to be illuminated from within, drew crowds to follow him, and he was looked upon as Elijah come to life again.

"Hearken and come to me," he said. "I am only a humble messenger sent by my Heavenly Father."

And thousands came. He cured the incurable, and consoled the inconsolable. Once he was shut up in a mad-house, but emerged more popular than ever. Then he went on a pilgrimage through the towns of Mexico, preaching his "Father's" word among the adulterers of goods and the Worshippers of the Golden Calf. An object of reverence and admiration, he blessed the children and rained miracles upon the heads of the sick, finally arriving at San Francisco in 1894. From there, still on foot and bare-headed, he crossed the Mohave Desert, spent several weeks at Flagstaff, and then continued his wanderings among the Indian tribes. They recognised his saintliness and came out in crowds to meet him, amazed at the power of the Lord as manifested by him. He spent five days in the company of the chief of the Navajos, performing many miracles, and filling with wonder the simple souls who crowded round to touch his hands. After having traversed several other districts, he stopped at Denver, which became his favourite residence.

In this paradise of the New World his most startling miracles took place. It became known as his special town, and from all parts there flocked to it believers and unbelievers, good, bad and indifferent, attracted by the fame of the heavenly messenger. Women and men followed in his train, expressing their admiration and grat.i.tude; even the reporters who came to interview him were impressed by his simplicity, and described in glowing terms the miracles accomplished by the "prophet of Denver."

The American journals which thus put themselves at his service throw a strange light upon this twentieth-century saint. For Schlatter the Silent, as some called him, only became eloquent when in the presence of newspaper reporters. He took heed to "sin not with his tongue," as the psalmist sings, and "kept his mouth with a bridle" and "held his peace," as long as "the wicked" were before him; but when confronted by reporters his thoughts became articulate, and it is only through them that his simple "Gospel" has been handed down to us. "I am nothing,"

he would say to them. "My Father is all. Have faith in Him, and all will be well." Or--"My Father can replace a pair of diseased lungs as easily as He can cure rheumatism. He has only to will, and the sick man becomes well or the healthy one ill. You ask me in what does my power consist. It is nothing--it is His will that is everything."

One day when a crowd of several thousands was pressing round him, Schlatter addressed a man in his vicinity.

"Depart!" he said to him, with a violence that startled all who heard.

"Depart from Denver; you are a murderer!"

The man fled, and the crowd applauded the "saint," remarking that "it was not in his power to heal the wicked."

Faith in him spread even to the railway companies of New Mexico, for one day there appeared a placard of the Union Pacific Railway stating that those of the employees, or their families, who wished to consult Schlatter would be given their permits and their regular holiday.

Following on this announcement, the _Omaha World Herald_ describes the impressive spectacle of the thousands of men, women and children, belonging to all grades of the railway administration, who went to the holy man of Denver to ask pardon for their sins, or to be healed of their diseases.

Thus did the transport systems, combined with the newspapers, pay homage to the exploits of the new prophet.

And still the miracles continued. The blind saw, the deaf heard, and the cripples walked. The lamp of faith lighted in New Mexico threw its beams over the whole of America, and the remarkable charm of Schlatter's personality influenced even the most incredulous.

The fame of his deeds reached Europe, and some of the English papers told of cures so marvellous that New Mexico bade fair to become the refuge of all the incurables in the world.

In the _Omaha World Herald_ a long article by General Test was published, in which he said: "All those who approach him find consolation and help. Dr. Keithley has been cured of deafness. . . .

I have used spectacles for many years, but a touch of his hand was enough to make me have need of them no longer."

One of the officials of the Union Pacific Railway, a Mr. Sutherland, after an accident, could neither walk nor move his limbs. He was taken to Denver, and returned completely cured, not only of his inability to walk, but also of deafness that had troubled him for fifteen years.

A Mr. Stewart, who had been deaf for twenty years, was also completely cured by the saint. Nothing seemed able to resist his miraculous powers. Blindness, diphtheria, phthisis, all disappeared like magic at the touch of his hand; and gloves that he had worn proved equally efficacious.

A Mrs. Snook, of North Denver, had suffered from cancer for some months, when, worn out by pain, she sent to the holy man for the loan of one of his gloves. He sent her two, saying that she would be cured--and she was cured. The same thing happened with John Davidson of 17th Street, Denver; with Colonel Powers of Georgetown; and a dozen others, all of whom had suffered for years from more or less incurable maladies.