n rest and
peace of mind in Jesus. I was self-conscious to an incredible
degree, and dreaded exposure or making an exhibition of myself,
but still went to church, hoping the grace of God would descend
on me. I had no other resources. I had no pleasure in life, and
was so shattered and in such misery of dread that I welcomed the
only refuge that seemed open to me. At last, one Sunday, I had
what I thought was a call; I shed a few tears, and although
tingling all down my spine I went up in the cathedral and joined
those who were going to be confirmed. I attended special meetings
and shocked the good bishop very much by telling him I had never
been baptized. I had to be baptized first and went one day to the
cathedral and he baptized me. When the critical awful moment came
the bishop, whose faith even then surprised me somehow, held my
hand in his cold palm, and gave it a pressure, eyeing me,
expectantly, inquisitively, to see any change for the better.
But, it so happened, that morning I was in a horrible temper and
black mood, hard and dry-eyed, and no change came. Still, I tried
to believe there was a change.

"I was confirmed with others, had a prayer-book given me with
prayers for nearly every hour in the day, and was always kneeling
and praying. I procured a long, white surplice, and assisted at
suburban services, even conducting small ones myself, reading the
sermons out of books. But my mood of rage increased, and one
Sunday I had to walk a long way in a new pair of boots. I shall
never forget that hot Sunday afternoon. My feet commenced to ache
and a murderous humor seized me. I swore and blasphemed one
moment and prayed to God to forgive me the next. When I reached
the chapel where I had to assist the chaplain I was exhausted
with rage, pain, fear, and religious mania. I thought it probable
I had offended the Holy Ghost. When, next Sunday, I went to try
my hand at Sunday-school teaching I wore a pair of boots so old
that the little boys laughed. I was always talking of my
conversion and the spirit of our Saviour. I do not know what the
clergymen I met thought of me. I thought I should like to be a
minister myself, and questioned a Church of England parson as to
the amount of study necessary. He received my question rather
coldly, I thought, which discouraged me. As m