How can you 'delete' the rest? It's not like my message was editable.

Non-scientific self reporting stories - no verification.  Using that
criteria, all of the gods ever imagined exist.

Out of curiosity, did anyone read this long rambling post?  After the
first paragraph, I realized it went on and on and on and on and just
deleted the rest.

[...New Eyes For Old

By Grace Ellery Channing

--Editor's Note: We are constantly hearing of patients who have been
able to improve their sight by the aid of information contained in
this magazine, or in other publications on the same subject, without
personal assistance: The following is a very remarkable example of
these cases, as the improvement was made white the patient was
handicapped by having to wear her glasses a great part of the time.--

There was once a gentleman who attempted to sell new lamps for old
ones. And another who tried to exchange, on Waterloo Bridge, perfectly
good new shillings for sixpence. In both cases the wares were as
advertised, but both fell under suspicion.

It is perhaps, then, not to be wondered at that an offer of new eyes
for old should meet with a similar fate at the hands of a public early
trained to suspect the worst - in a world where few things are as
represented and nothing is to be had for nothing.

In no other way, at least, can I account for the fact that so much of
the world is still in glasses, after a brief experience of my own.
This is the story:

Something over a year ago, in one of those periodic fits of dejection
common to those who abuse their eyes and then wonder at their failure,
I chanced to take up a copy of the New York Tribune, open exactly at
an article on Eyes, in the column devoted to scientifico-medical
truth.

I may as well confess at once that I read this column chiefly to
scoff: it is a privilege reserved to those born in doctor's families.
Moreover the condition of my own eyes at the moment, after years of
oculists and opticians, was one to make me particularly from Missouri
in my mental attitude towards anything calling itself a new "cure."
Still - I ran through the article.

It was brief, a mere review of another which had appeared in the
Scientific American, and I grasped but a fragment of the principle -
that defects of vision were not necessarily integral, but might result
from defectively controlled muscles distorting the eyeball, pulling it
out of shape. Hence nearsight, farsight, astigmatism, etc., might be
curable through muscle-control. The treatment consisted in relaxation
and re-education, intelligently applied.

As I grasped it, not being hampered by scientific pre-possesions, the
thing appeared so simple that I exclaimed to myself: "How sensible!" -
hastily qualifying it with, "How much too good to be true!" For here
was something rational - something you could do for yourself, without
either being cut up or poisoned. The article mentioned that patients
went home and taught their families - it was so simple. There was
nothing to prevent one's at least trying it on oneself.

The only detail of treatment set forth - or which I grasped - was that
the eyes could be relaxed most conveniently by looking at black, and
that by covering the eyes with the palms of the hands ("palming")
black could be retained as a mental vision, or memory, during which
the eye was at rest. By practice, one could learn to "remember black"
with the eyes opened, at will, and when it was not there. Thus
muscular control could be re-established.

It was at least worth trying, and I tried. (Here it is interesting to
remark that the moment you look at a black thing, you realize it
isn't. A really black object is hard to find, but not necessary to
success; the approximate will serve. Later I discovered that a black
period - of printer's ink - was sufficient, but I am giving by
preference the tale of my first blundering efforts.)

My first discovery was one which anyone may make for himself; it
contains the crux of the whole. This is, that after looking at black,
"palming," and seeing black with the eyes shut (at first one may see
grey or red), and then opening the eyes, there is an appreciable
instant of clear vision, in which letters or images previously blurred
and hazy come out sharp and definite. For that brief instant I could
read clearly; then immediately the old habit of muscular strain set in
again and vision lapsed. But /that instant was enough/. For, if for
any fraction of time at all vision could be reconquered, clearly the
organ of vision was intact; the trouble was extraneous, functional,
might be removable. All that was needed was to /make that instant
permanent/, and that, evidently, was a mere matter of re-educating the
exterior muscles of the eye and fixing a habit.

So far as I was concerned that first experiment was final. I was as
convinced then as I am convinced now that I, or anyone else in my
case, can recover vision virtually whole, with time, patience and
training. The demonstration was, for me, complete. Nobody had proved
it to me, I had proved it to myself. Relaxed eyes could return to the
normal and see without glasses.

How to take advantage of my discovery was another matter. My days are
largely spent in typing; my nights (too largely) in reading, both in
glasses, which of course are framed to perpetuate the errors they
confirm, so that every pair of glasses has to be farther from the
normal than the one before. With a war on, I could neither stop
working nor reading newspapers. Yet the first requisite for the new
cure I assumed to be the abandonment of the glasses. (I have since
heard of cases cured even while in glasses.)

I postponed, then, all hope of my own cure to some date "after Peace."
But I was too interested and fascinated to quite let the matter drop.
Accordingly I began to play with the small fragment of theory I had
assimilated (very inaccurately, I now realize), in the scant leisure
of my daily outings. I practised "seeing black" on the coat-backs of
pedestrians, and "central fixation" (which means seeing what you look
at where you look at It, and not its edges instead) on the street
signs and advertising bill-boards. My companions began to recognize my
"seeing black" expression. As a skeptic, I am something of a trial to
them and they enjoyed, perhaps, seeing the biter bit. But I was
getting results - undoubting the long-doubled stars, making one moon
grow where the proverbial two had grown before. Blurred letters of
fantastic height I was reducing to neat, clear rows, half as high; I
who had not read a headline, with just eyes, for years, was reading
them all. Thence I passed to the higher literature; probably nobody
has ever been so stirred by the genius of Mr. Shonts as I, when first
I could untangle his lines. Next came the gems of verse in street-car
advertisements. Now I read them all alike, indifferently, negligently,
as being no great thing, down to the quite fine ones, if the vehicle
is moderately light.

The first really startling intimation of gain, however, came to me one
hurried morning when, taking my mail from the box, I read my letters
one after another, on the way to the bus, and only realized later, as
I was rolling downtown, that I had read them all without glasses - and
without noticing it. It was fully ten years since I had been able to
read a line of a letter without glasses, frequently to my extreme
inconvenience.

This is as far as I have gone - except that I am still going. Month by
month, I recover a little and a little more of my ability to see
normally, and meanwhile, as a most important by-product of the gain, I
lose the old fatigue and ache which, with its accompanying depression,
made my hours without glasses periods of strain. Here I should explain
that my eyes are always under a twofold strain - for I listen with
them. Only the partly deaf will fully understand this, but it makes
the importance of this new treatment, for them, incalculable. And the
deaf are as the sands of the sea.

Now, if gains so real and so appreciable can be made in quarter-hour
and casual applications of a partially-grasped theory, and while with
both hands one is engaged in undoing for the remainder of the hours
what one has done in the quarters, is it not fair to believe that a
proper, steadfast, continuous application of the theory would work
miracles for those multitudes of mankind who suffer every form of
disability and handicap now covered by the term "eyestrain"? We are
told that pretty much everything from flat feet to baldness can
proceed from eyestrain, and for my part I believe it; I know what
earstrain can do. We are also assured that children in our schools
suffer, by tens of thousands, from defective vision, and are turned
into truants, invalids and criminals. Almost the largest percentage of
physical disqualifications in our Army were optical-and that under an
incredibly low standard. Eyes, then, are not an academic but a vital
issue. How is it possible that we fail to investigate to the last
point any and every possible means of relief from an evil well-nigh
universal?

This is the question I have naturally been asking, north, south, east
and west, for a year past. It seems time now to ask it out loud - in
print. Of course I have found excellent people to tell me that my
discovery "isn't so," and other excellent people to tell me that
"everybody has always known it" anyway, which does not explain to me
why "everybody" is still wearing glasses. I was sufficiently
interested myself to go and talk with a few of the cured enthusiasts;
their attitude is about what mine would be in their case - that of
those who were present at the Pool Bethesda and /saw/ the miracle
effected. I also had the curiosity to go and talk with the author of
the revolutionary theory that eyes can be cured without glasses,
himself - Dr. Wm. H. Bates.

I went to Dr. Bates through streets filled with people wearing
glasses, and punctuated at intervals by the signs of oculists,
opticians, and makers of optical devices for the near-blind. My own
oculist's and optician's offices are usually thronged with a waiting
list; it occurred to me that I might find cordons of troops keeping
order about Dr. Bates'. I found neither the cordon nor the crowds.
Why?

Here is a man who is either an absolute benefactor of humanity, or who
makes an unfounded claim. He should be given, not for his own sake but
for ours, the widest opportunity and the heartiest encouragement to
prove or disprove his theory, past all possibility of question. It is
indeed so extraordinary that he has not been forcibly summoned to do
this before now, by an impatient public, that it can only be accounted
for by that ancient disability of the human mind to accept new things
if strange - new lamps for old, real shillings sold for sixpence, or
truth that is as simple as a lie. Yet, actually, of course, Truth is
always simple - the only simple thing there is.

New eyes for old, ladies and gentlemen! Who wants them?...]

- BEM, February 1920