“Take four globules every hour,” he directed, as he gave her the medicine, “and I would further advise that you travel for your health.” “What climate would be most helpful to me?” she asked, for she was a lady of considerable means and could go where she wished. “A colder climate where you will be free from the noonday sun, and breathe in a new atmosphere. This medicine will do the rest.” She passed out of the door just as a feeble man was entering. He was an old pilgrim and evidently suffering much. The doctor seized him by the hand with a strange vigor not even understood by Mr. World. “So you are under the power of ‘La Grippe,’” saluted the doctor. “Under the power of something, I am sure, for everything is wrong with me, and everything seems wrong to me,” was the slow answer. The doctor soon diagnosed his case, and gave him powders with directions. “It did not take you very long to attend to him,” said Mr. World, after the aged man left the office. “I deal with so many of that class that I keep the medicine ready. La Grippe is a splendid thing for my trade. It is affecting more pilgrims just now than any other disease. Some churches are more than decimated by the ravages of this plague.” The manager then conducted Mr. World into another office where the doctor was just giving medical attention to a young lady who was suffering with spiritual quinsy. It was so severe that she could not testify for Christ, and she wilfully passed by the “Great Physician” who could have healed her blessedly. She also passed by all the angels of mercy who throng the King’s Highway. She turned a deaf ear to all the singers who sang, “Then why will ye die?” Finally she was heavily pressed by her disease and, seeing a physician’s office which she could enter without climbing a step, she went in and chose rather to be treated by a doctor of the Devil, as if dead to all the offers of mercy which she had rejected. She accepted his treatment without question, and even felt at ease in conscience, thinking that the easy, bland method of this physician was in every way preferable to the searching methods adopted by the Healer Divine. She regained her voice, but it lost that sweet accent of heaven which once had characterized it. It was now difficult and embarrassing for her to pronounce the name of Jesus. All this proved painful and intolerable, so she took a by-path to the left called “Unchastity” where she found a whole vocabulary of speech more suited to her utterance. She spent the rest of her days in the habitations of immorality along the Broad Highway, unmindful of the tears and kindly solicitude of her entreating friends. Into the third medical wing the two went only to see the fiendish program carried on there as in the other offices. The first patient they saw was a young man who, through the misguidance of a weakling, was persuaded to enter the office.