She was in sore and sad earnest to believe as she was told she must believe; therefore instead of beginning to do what Jesus Christ said, she tried hard to imagine herself one of the chosen, tried hard to believe herself the chief of sinners.

There was no one to tell her that it is only the man who sees something of the glory of God, the height and depth and breadth and length of his love and unselfishness, not a child dabbling in stupid doctrines, that can feel like St.Paul.She tried to feel that she deserved to be burned in hell for ever and ever, and that it was boundlessly good of God--who made her so that she could not help being a sinner--to give her the least chance of escaping it.

She tried to feel that, though she could not be saved without something which the God of perfect love could give her if he pleased, but might not please to give her, yet if she was not saved it would be all her own fault: and so ever the round of a great miserable treadmill of contradictions! For a moment she would be able to say this or that she thought she ought to say; the next the feeling would be gone, and she as miserable as before.

Her friend made no attempt to imbue her with her own calm indifference, nor could she have succeeded had she attempted it.

But though she had never been troubled herself, and that because she had never been in earnest, she did not find it the less easy to take upon her the role of a spiritual adviser, and gave no end of counsel for the attainment of assurance.