"Are you miserable now?" she asked.
"Yes, just now I am. I do not mean that I have no happiness; I mean that I am in a disheartened mood, weary of going round and round in circles, committing the same sins, uttering the same confessions, and making no advance."
"My dear," she said, after a time, "have you a perfectly distinct, settled view of what Christ is to the human soul?"
"I do not know. I understand, of course, more or less perfectly, that my salvation depends on Him alone; it is His gift."
"But do you see, with equal clearness, that your sanctification must be as fully His gift, as your salvation is?"
"No," I said, after a little thought. "I have had a feeling that He has done His part, and now I must do mine."
"My dear," she said, with much tenderness and feeling, "then the first thing you have to do is to learn Christ."
"But how?"
"On your knees, my child, on your knees!" She was tired, and I came away; and I have indeed been on my knees.
JULY 1.-I think that I do begin, dimly it is true, but really, to understand that this terrible work which I was trying to do myself, is Christ's work, and must be done and will be done by Him. I take some pleasure in the thought, and wonder why it has all this time been hidden from me, especially after what Dr. C. said in his letter. But I get hold of this idea in a misty, unsatisfactory way. If Christ is to do all, what am I to do? And have I not been told, over and over again, that the Christian life is one of conflict, and that I am to fight like a good soldier?