Dr. Quimby, who is spoken of by a lady, who knew him well at the time Mrs. Patterson-Eddy was taking his treatment and stealing his system, as a man of “absolute sincerity and purity of thought and life,” died in January, 1866, and Mrs. Eddy, then Mrs. Patterson, not having conceived the plan of appropriating to herself the ideas and theories she had learned from him, almost immediately after his death wrote and published some verses about him, in which she compared Quimby with Jesus. She now speaks of him as a vulgar mesmerist or magnetic healer whose scribblings she put into grammatical form; she then, in 1866, glorified him as the Christian glorifies only the Saviour. These verses, as here presented, are copied from a copy in Mrs. Eddy’s own handwriting, now in the possession of Mrs. Sarah Crosby of Waterville, Maine, to whom, in 1866, upon the death of Dr. Quimby, she sent them: “Lines on the Death of Dr. P. P. Quimby, who _Healed the Sick as did Jesus_, in contradistinction to all Isms. “Did Sack-cloth 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 our 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 earnest, solemn, sacred trust, Delivered to us ere he rose to Heaven. “Heaven but the happiness of his 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.” M. M. Patterson. Comment cannot add to the force of these verses. Inferior as poetry, they constitute proof and argument not all the falsehoods and sophistries in the imagination of Mrs. Eddy and her corps of official defenders can meet and overcome. In 1866, Mrs. Eddy reverently declared that Dr. Quimby had “healed the sick as Jesus did;” today speaking slightingly of the good old man, she says, “his healing was never considered anything but mesmerism.” Then she gratefully acknowledged that he had made her “whole”; now she says that his mesmeric treatment gave her but slight, temporary relief. Then, not having contemplated the great theft, she spoke of the “earnest, solemn, sacred trust” delivered to her and others by the trustful man; now she repudiates him altogether, and denies that she received any helpful suggestion from him. Then she spoke of _herself_ as “_seeking, though a trembler, where his footsteps trod;_” now she scornfully says, “I used to take his _scribblings_ and fix them over for him and give him _my_ thoughts and language which, _as I understand it_, were _far in advance of his_.”