"Two weeks ago I fell on the sidewalk and struck my back on the ice and was taken up for dead, came to consciousness amid a storm of vapors from cologne, chloroform, ether, camphor, etc., but to find myself the helpless cripple I was before I saw Dr. Quimby. "The physician attending said I had taken the last step I ever should, but in two days I got out of my bed _alone_, and _will_ walk; but yet I confess I am frightened, and out of that nervous heat my friends are forming, spite of me, the terrible spinal affection from which I have suffered so long and hopelessly.... Now can't _you_ help me? I believe you can. I write this with this feeling: I think that I could help another in my condition if they had not placed their intelligence in matter. This I have not done, and yet I am slowly failing. Won't you write me if you will undertake for me if I can get to you?... "Respectfully, "MARY M. PATTERSON." The poem by the lady destined to become Mrs. Eddy, author of _Science and Health_, was published by her, with her name attached, under the caption of "LINES on the death of Dr. P. P. Quimby, _who healed with the Truth that Christ taught, in contradistinction to all Isms_." "Did sackcloth clothe the sun, and day grow night, All matter mourn the hour with dewy eyes, When Truth, receding from our mortal sight, Had paid to error her last sacrifice? "Can we forget the power that gave us life? Shall we forget the wisdom of its way? Then ask me not amid this mortal strife-- This keenest pang of animated clay-- "To mourn him less: to mourn him more were just, If to his memory 'twere a tribute given For every solemn, sacred, earnest trust Delivered to us ere he rose to heaven-- "Heaven but the happiness of that calm soul, Growing in stature to the throne of God. Rest should reward him who hath made us whole, Seeking, tho' tremblers, where his footsteps trod." MARY M. PATTERSON. The complete identity of Mrs. Mary M. Patterson with Mrs. Mary Baker G. Eddy has been fully established by the highest Christian-Science authority in the world--Mrs. Eddy herself. In a letter dated March 7th, 1883, addressed to the Boston _Post_, she said: "In 1862 my name was Patterson, my husband, Dr. Patterson, a distinguished dentist. After our marriage I was confined to my bed with a severe illness, and seldom left bed or room for seven years, when I was taken to Dr. Quimby and partially restored. I returned home, hoping once more to make that home happy, but only returned to a new agony to find that my husband had eloped with a married woman from one of the wealthy families of that city, leaving no trace save his last letter to us, wherein he wrote: 'I hope some time to be worthy of so good a wife.' I have a bill of divorce from him...."