A BOOK has recently been written and published, New Lives for Old – How to Cure the Incurable, by Ellis barker j. I have not yet read it, but I feel sure that there cannot be a better example of a new life for an old life than the following.
I was a slightly delicate, highly-strung child, who passed through the usual childish ailments and eventually reached seventeen years, healthy, rosy cheeked and full of life. Two things only troubled me: tiring a trifle more than most girls of my age, and a difficult period. From time to time, I consulted doctors about both troubles, which were treated lightly, and I was given an iron tonic.
In 1918 I was twenty, and, in common with many thousands, contracted Spanish influenza, not very badly – my temperature never rose above 100 One or two fainting attacks puzzled the doctors, but, beyond that, the disease ran its usual course, and in a couple of weeks I was about again. But not the same. Some vital spark seemed missing. From that time I very gradually ran down hill, although nothing definite could be found wrong. An iron tonic, feeding up etc., was all the doctors could recommend.
They made light of my condition, and so did I. Then one day I noticed swollen glands in the neck. As they refused to yield to treatment, tonics, massage, iodine and so on, I was sent to the Alps for the Winter, t be generally toned up. Here I received quantities of milk, and light-ray treatment, and In a few weeks looked and felt the picture of health and happiness, to such an extent that I attracted attention wherever I went. But the glands remained swollen and increased in size.
After my return home, I started to deteriorate rapidly, until, shortly before my marriage, I became really alarmed and consulted still another doctor. He told me I was suffering from “nervous indigestion”, due to the excitement of the preparations as I was going to live abroad, and he prophesied that not only would weakness and thinness go, but also the glands, after I had settled down. I married and three months later I collapsed. My husband took me to Harley Street. Two specialists recommended the removal of my tonsils. This was done.
Injections, light-ray treatment, iodine, massage, etc. Still no improvement, and my nervous condition became terrible. I was in constant pain with weakness and the glands. At last I returned to Harley Street. Here I was told that it was lymphadenoma, a terrible and deadly disease. More injections and X-ray treatment followed. The swollen glands disappeared and weight improved, but my nervous system was in terrible state.
I was wheeled about in a bath chair. My pains continued. The nerves became steadily worse, the glands returned, I fell away to 71/2 stone, and I am 5 ft. 8 ins. All the doctors could do was to give me more X-ray, more doctors could do was to give me more X-ray, more injections. The period was an agony. In time, I could no longer read, hardly write. I spent my days lying down. Eating was an ordeal. I looked grey. My hair was greasy and lank.
Reading being impossible, I used to look at magazines for amusement, and among them I found a few old copies of Truth. A headline caught my eye: “Diet versus Drugs”, written by Mr. Ellis BArker, a layman. I was in despair. I had told the last doctor that I never wanted to see a doctor again, and refused to have one near me. Perhaps diet cold do what drugs had failed to do.
I called my parents, made them read the article carefully, and we were all struck by the sound common sense of the writer. My parents wrote to him, and received in return a list of amazing questions. Many of the questions I had put to the doctors, and I had been told that the matters mentioned were nonsense and fancy on my part. These questions were carefully answered by my mother, I being too weak and ill to write.
Instructions and medicines followed. I mistrusted the medicines, but ventured at last to try them, and at last after four years of pain and misery I found relief. The medicines were all homoeopathic remedies, and eventually I put myself in the hands of the clever man who, without seeing me, had started me on the road to a new life.
His task was a hard one, his patience inexhaustible, his knowledge greater than that of nay of the famous men in England and on the Continent I had consulted. Step by step, by the means of homoeopathy brilliantly applied, he brought me back to a normal life.
My husband and I were caught in the World Crisis and are very poor now, and I have to do my own housework and cooking, sewing and washing, I who was too weak to stand, to eat well, to talk. I find it all great fun, and actually enjoy doing hard and so- called hum-drum tasks. These are anxious days for my husband and me, but I feel well, eat well, sleep well.
Our great regret is that we have spent many hundreds of pounds on trying to buy health, when all that was required was wise diet and simple remedies intelligently applied. Of course, in the hands of an experienced prescriber, sure and quick results are obtained, but even I have experimented with homoeopathic remedies in emergencies with success, not only on myself but on South American peasants whose language I barely understood.
New lives are obtainable by most sufferers. The least homoeopathy will do is to improve a bad condition. In most cases it completely and pleasantly cures. I have recently learned from friends who last saw me when I was ill that nobody ever expected me to recover. They now call me “The Miracle”. I am a living testimony to the blessings of homoeopathy. Had it not been for the New Art of Healing I should either be a hopeless invalid or dead, probably the latter.
