Still on close examination, though the symptoms have changed, the evil persists; softness or dryness, the results are identical.
"At the same time it seems strange that this spiritual anaemia should now exhibit such opposite symptoms.

On one hand I am conscious of weariness, indifference, and torpor in prayer; it seems to me, bitter, vain, and hollow, so badly do I pray; I am inclined to let everything go, to cease the attempt, to wait for a glow of fervour which I cannot hope for; on the other hand, I am at the same time conscious of a persistent and obstinate yearning, an invisible touch, a craving for prayer, a constant invitation from God keeping me alert.

And there are times, too, when, though I can prove to myself that I am not stirring, I fancy I am trembling and shall be swept away by a tide.
"That is very much of what I feel.

In this frame of mind, half stay-at-home, half gipsy-like, if I take up a book of the higher mysticism--Saint Theresa or Saint Angela--that subtle touch gains definiteness, I am aware of shocks running through me; I fancy that my soul is convalescent, that it is young again, and breathes once more; but if I try to take advantage of this lucid moment to collect myself and to pray, it is all over--I flee from myself--nothing will work.

What misery, and how pitiable! "The Abbe Gevresin has guided me so far, but how?
"He has trusted chiefly to the method of expectancy, restricting himself to combating my generally flaccid state, and invigorating me rather than contending with details.