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 advertisement 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 reassured 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 nobody knew. The news spread far and wide, the affair assumed 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.