meat which was pleasing to my taste.

The last year I was in school these morbid tendencies reached their climax. I had read of devoted men in the ministry who had labored so zealously that they allowed themselves only six hours sleep. Besides their daily tasks, which were enormous, some of these men had spent as long as two hours each day in private devotions. I tried to force myself to this rigid routine, besides keeping up with my classes in the university. Almost every night religious services were held either in the chapel or in some cottage. On Sunday there were four and sometimes five services. Of course, I felt duty bound to attend all of these, besides keeping up daily my two hours of private devotions. Sometimes I was obliged to lose a part of the six hours allotted for sleep, in order to carry out this rigid program I had set for myself. Not only did I suffer from exhaustion induced by the constant and heavy strain; but if I happened to fail in spending the full two hours in prayer or in reading the Scriptures, I would sometimes be so terribly accused that I would resort to a public confession of my "neglect," and once I went to the public altar under accusation that was largely due to this very cause.

I had heard a great deal, also, concerning our obligation to do personal work and threw myself into this phase of Christian activity. Of course, I soon went to extremes. If I happened to be in the company of some one for a short time and failed to speak to him about his soul's welfare, I was likely to be dreadfully accused for gross neglect of duty. Under such circumstances it was hard for me to testify, because the accuser could always find some "neglect" or "oversight" with which to trouble me. On the other hand, I was afraid not to testify lest I should soon be hopelessly backslidden if I neglected this duty. So I finally drifted into the habit of silently asking God's forgiveness for any possible "neglect" in any way, just before rising to testify, so as to make sure that I was in a proper condition to witness for the Lord. All this was exceedingly wearing on my whole being.

A MORBID CONSCIENCE

At last my conscience became so morbid that every sermon I heard and every religious book or tract I read was at once compared with my experience to see if I lacked in even the lightest details. I happened to read of one devoted man who literally gave all his possessions to the Lord's work. Immediately I thought of the small amount of money that I had with which to pay my winter's tuition in the university. It was not quite enough to pay all my expenses, and yet when I would decide that I could not give my "all" to the Lord's work, terrible accusations would crush me down until it seemed that my reason itself would become unbalanced. In my despair, I opened up my heart to a trusted friend, and he showed me that this was clearly an accusation from Satan and should be entirely ignored. All these things told sadly on my mental and physical condition, so that when the school year ended and I returned home to my friends, they were very much disappointed in me. Finally they became alarmed at my morbid condition.

OBTAINING RELIEF

Satan at last overdid himself; and by the help of kind friends, I discerned his devices and the extremes to which I had been driven. Once the following lines were quoted to me: "If you want to be distracted, look about you; if you would be miserable, look within; but if you would be happy, look to Jesus." These I shall never forget. A friend also pointed out the fact that I was constantly feeling my spiritual pulse. He said that this was just as detrimental to my spiritual condition as the constant counting of heart-beats would be to my physical health. Just as a patient would be likely to imagine himself afflicted with heart-trouble, so the same habit in the spiritual realm would, if continually indulged, prove disastrous to constant peace and victory.

It took some time to throw off entirely the "straight jacket" which had been imposed upon me; but by patient persistence, with God's grace, I was made an overcomer. I was taught to discern the difference between accusations and the workings of the Spirit of God. The voice of the accuser is harsh, cruel, nagging, or exacting; God's Spirit is mild, gentle, and encouraging. When God's Spirit reveals anything, it is made clear and plain. The accuser bewilders, confuses, and discourages. I also learned that our kind heavenly Father is not watching for an opportunity to cast us off, but rather he is seeking by the wooings of his gentle Spirit to lead us into green pastures and beside the still waters, where we may nourish our souls and become strong to meet the battles and trials of life. He will show us our shortcomings, but not in a way that will discourage or crush us.

Oftentimes while I was under such crushing accusations, the tempter would say, "How can you ever hope to preach the gospel, when you are so unsettled in your own experience?" One day there came to my mind the scripture in Eph. 3:20, which says that he is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we can ask or think. I decided that in some way God would work out his purpose concerning my life if I would patiently serve him to the best of my knowledge and ability.

INHERITED DISPOSITION TO WORRY

Another lesson I needed to learn was to trust God with the future. I was naturally inclined to worry. For several generations back my ancestors on one side of my family tree had been given to excessive worry, their condition at times bordering on utter despondency. I was painfully conscious of this inheritance in my constitutional make-up. In my morbid imagination, nearly every threatening trouble was magnified to the proportion of a dreadful disaster. Many an hour, and even days, I wasted in useless worry. Perhaps not one tenth of my gloomy forebodings ever materialized.

FACING A NERVOUS COLLAPSE

In order to teach me more thoroughly the lesson of trust, the Lord permitted me to pass through a peculiar and severe trial. As I looked forward to the time when I hoped to take up the active work of the ministry, I had a great desire to be at my best in every way. I had hoped to be in good health so that I might be able to bear the strain of the work and to meet every emergency that might arise. But just as I was about ready to enter upon my life's mission, I found my health breaking and myself on the verge of a nervous breakdown. This was indeed a keen disappointment to me. My sufferings at times seemed almost intolerable. I could not understand it: I longed so much to be of real service to God and to accomplish what I regarded as my life-work—the ministry.

Although the prospects seemed gloomy and my friends expected a complete breakdown in my health, yet I determined to go forward in the name of the Lord and to do the best I could. I even began to fear that my reason would be dethroned. However, I said nothing about my condition to my congregation, but sought to be a blessing to them in every way. I finally tried to form the habit of beginning each day with a season of thanksgiving for all the blessings I could think of. This proved to be very helpful.

RELIEVED BY HELPING OTHERS

Some days were more trying than others. While passing through the severest tests I learned that it was very helpful to look for some other tried or tempted ones and do my best to cheer and comfort them. Just a few doors from where I roomed was a lady past middle