Yukteswar's eyes fixed on me piercingly.

"You are too thin, Mukunda."

His remark struck a sensitive point. That my sunken eyes and
emaciated appearance were far from my liking was testified to by
rows of tonics in my room at Calcutta. Nothing availed; chronic
dyspepsia had pursued me since childhood. My despair reached an
occasional zenith when I asked myself if it were worth-while to
carry on this life with a body so unsound.

"Medicines have limitations; the creative life-force has none.
Believe that: you shall be well and strong."

Sri Yukteswar's words aroused a conviction of personally-applicable
truth which no other healer-and I had tried many!-had been able to
summon within me.

Day by day, behold! I waxed. Two weeks after Master's hidden
blessing, I had accumulated the invigorating weight which eluded
me in the past. My persistent stomach ailments vanished with
a lifelong permanency. On later occasions I witnessed my guru's
instantaneous divine healings of persons suffering from ominous
disease-tuberculosis, diabetes, epilepsy, or paralysis. Not one
could have been more grateful for his cure than I was at sudden
freedom from my cadaverous aspect.

"Years ago, I too was anxious to put on weight," Sri Yukteswar told
me. "During convalescence after a severe illness, I visited Lahiri
Mahasaya in Benares.