Another brilliant enunciator, seeker, and servant of Truth, the Rev. William R. Alger of Boston, signalled me kindly as my lone bark rose and fell and rode the rough sea.  At a conversazione in Boston, he said, “You may find in Mrs. Eddy’s metaphysical teachings more than is dreamt of in your philosophy.”

Also that renowned apostle of anti-slavery, Wendell Phillips, the native course of whose mind never swerved from the chariot-paths of justice, speaking of my work, said:  “Had I young blood in my veins, I would help that woman.”

I love Boston, and especially the laws of the State whereof this city is the capital.  To-day, as of yore, her laws have befriended progress.

Yet when I recall the past,—­how the gospel of healing was simultaneously praised and persecuted in Boston,—­and remember also that God is just, I wonder whether, were our dear Master in our New England metropolis at this hour, he would not weep over it, as he wept over Jerusalem!  O ye tears!  Not in vain did ye flow.  Those sacred drops were but enshrined for future use, and God has now unsealed their receptacle with His outstretched arm.  Those crystal globes made morals for mankind.  They will rise with joy, and with power to wash away, in floods of forgiveness, every crime, even when mistakenly committed in the name of religion.

An unjust, unmerciful, and oppressive priesthood must perish, for false prophets in the present as in the past stumble onward to their doom; while their tabernacles crumble with dry rot.  “God is not mocked,” and “the word of the Lord endureth forever.”

I have ordained the Bible and the Christian Science textbook, “Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures,” as pastor of The First Church of Christ, Scientist, in Boston,—­so long as this church is satisfied with this pastor.  This is my first ordination.  “They shall be abundantly satisfied with the fatness of Thy house; and Thou shalt make them drink of the river of Thy pleasures.”

All praise to the press of America’s Athens,—­and throughout our land the press has spoken out historically, impartially.  Like the winds telling tales through the leaves of an ancient oak, unfallen, may our church chimes repeat my thanks to the press.

Notwithstanding the perplexed condition of our nation’s finances, the want and woe with millions of dollars unemployed in our money centres, the Christian Scientists, within fourteen months, responded to the call for this church with $191,012.  Not a mortgage was given nor a loan solicited, and the donors all touchingly told their privileged joy at helping to build The Mother Church.  There was no urging, begging, or borrowing; only the need made known, and forth came the money, or diamonds, which served to erect this “miracle in stone.”

Even the children vied with their parents to meet the demand.  Little hands, never before devoted to menial services, shoveled snow, and babes gave kisses to earn a few pence toward this consummation.  Some of these lambs my prayers had christened, but Christ will rechristen them with his own new name.  “Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings Thou hast perfected praise.”  The resident youthful workers were called “Busy Bees.”