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LETTERS TO PATIENTS
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him, he has no more difficulty." Quimby's caution in indulging in any opinion of his own is indicated in a letter, dated April 10, 1861, in which he says:]

An opinion involves more responsibility than I am willing to take. Moreover, an opinion is of no force . . . and it might do a great deal of harm. I always feel as though disease was an enemy that might be conquered if rightly understood. But if you let your enemy know your thoughts, you give him the advantage. Therefore I never give the sick any idea that should make them believe that I have any fears . . . . Making health the fixed object in my mind, I never parley nor compromise. Once when your sister remarked she never expected to be perfectly well, I replied that I never compromised with disease, and as she had been robbed of her health I should not settle the case except on condition of the return of her health and happiness. . . . When your sister came to me I found her in a very nervous state from the fact that she had lost her sister and expected soon to follow her. This made her very nervous and stimulated her to that degree that she appeared to be quite strong. As I relieved her fears she became more quiet. This she took for weakness. But every change has come just as I told her it would. [Thus Dr. Quimby gradually brought his patient into the affirmative attitude, so that she could see for herself.]

[Again, Quimby wrote as if conversing with his patient and meeting objections point by point, while still carrying on the treatment. Thus he writes to one not yet convinced of the efficacy of absent help:]

I will now sit down by you as I used to, for I see I am with you, and talk to you a little about your weak back. You forgot to sit upright as I used to tell you. Perhaps you cannot see how I can be sitting by you in your house, and at the same time be in Portland. I see you look up and open your eyes, and I hear you say, “No, I am sure I cannot, and I do not believe you can be in two places at the same time.” I hear you think, not speak. . . . If you [understood], you would not doubt that I am now talking to you. . . . I have faith to believe that I can make you believe by my Wisdom. So I shall try to convince you that although I may be absent in the idea or body, yet I am present with you in the mind. . . . If you know that I am here, [in