entitled "A Narrative--by Mary Baker G. Eddy."

2. "Parks sprang up [sic] . . . electric-cars run [sic] merrily
through several streets, concrete sidewalks and macadamized roads dotted
[sic] the place," et cetera.--Ibid.

3. "Shorn [sic] of its suburbs it had indeed little left to admire, save
to [sic] such as fancy a skeleton above ground breathing [sic] slowly
through a barren [sic] breast."--Ibid.

This is not English--I mean, grown-up English. But it is
fifteen-year-old English, and has not grown a month since the same
mind produced the Poems. The standard of the Poems and of the
plague-spot-and-bacilli effort is exactly the same. It is most strange
that the same intellect that worded the simple and self-contained and
clean-cut paragraph beginning with "How unreasonable is the belief,"
should in the very same lustrum discharge upon the world such a verbal
chaos as the utterance concerning that plague-spot or bacilli which were
gnawing at the insides of the metropolis and bringing its heart on bended
knee, thus exposing to the eye the rest of the skeleton breathing slowly
through a barren breast.

The immense contrast between the legitimate English of Science and Health
and the bastard English of Mrs. Eddy's miscellaneous work, and between
the maturity of the one diction and the juvenility of the other,
suggests--compels--the question, Are there two guns? It would seem so.
Is there a poor, foolish, old, scattering flint-lock for rabbit, and a
long-range, centre-driving, up-to-date Mauser-magazine for elephant? It
looks like it. For it is observable that in Science and Health (the
elephant-ground) the practice was good at the start and has remained so,