Somewhere the thing we long for
Exists on earth's wide bound,
Somewhere the heat is cheering
While here winter nips the ground.
Somewhere the flowers are springing,
Somewhere the corn is brown,
And is ready unto the harvest
To feed the hungry town.
Somewhere the twilight gathers,
And weary men lay by
The burdens of the daytime,
And wrapped in slumber lie.
Somewhere the day is breaking,
And gloom and darkness flee;
Though storms our bark are tossing,
There's somewhere a placid sea.
And thus, I thought, 'tis always
In this mysterious life,
There's always gladness somewhere
In spite of its pain and strife;
And somewhere the sin and sorrow
Of earth are known no more;
Somewhere our weary spirits
Shall find a peaceful shore.
CHAPTER XVII.
THAT _EDDYFYING_ CHRISTIAN SCIENCE.
This season there broke out in our community, as elsewhere, what has
always appeared to me, to be a distemper, misnamed by its crafty
creator, "Christian Science." Unchristian scienceless would be a more
appropriate name, as the so-called divine revelation was made to its
Eddyfying high priestess about 1800 years after the sublime career
of Christ was ended, and its preposterous claims antagonize every
principle of modern science.
This craze seized certain discontented young women who studied
"Science and Health" under the tutorage of its author, and they soon
became too transcendental to perform the useful duties of life,
posing as teachers of the "utterly utter.
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