Do you expect to fare better, when you are exercising faculties which have been for long more or less dormant? The same man goes on to say--and I {130} think it is a comforting truth--that God sees further than we do, sees what we mean: These surface troubles come and go, Like rufflings of the sea; The deeper depth is out of reach To all, my God, but Thee. Even if your conscience condemns you, remember that God is greater than your conscience. He sees that you _want_ to pray, and the battle is half won when there is even the want. I like these old words of the hymn: Satan trembles when he sees The weakest saint upon his knees, even if he can't collect his thoughts. I find it usually easier to pray for others than for myself. I believe in beginning by praying for what is easiest. I don't kneel down. I find it more possible to concentrate my attention when I am walking about or sitting down. And I tell God what I know about a man, and how I want him to live a better life. Sometimes I seem to struggle for him as though for very life. I go on and on and on--sometimes repeating the same request. I try to copy the poor widow who wearied out the dishonest judge. I am not distressed when my thoughts wander, I know that they will always wander without God's help. The distress occasioned by wandering thoughts, and the attempt to trace the stages by which they wandered, I regard as temptations of the devil. . . . I go back as calmly as possible to the matter in hand. Excuse my 'egoism.' I put it in the first person, {131} because I believe my own experience will help you more than rules derived from the experience of others. Suppose you spend half an hour in this way, and only really pray for three or four minutes, your efforts will be more than rewarded. You will have done more than you know for the person for whom you have prayed. And the next half-hour you will find that you can concentrate your attention for a minute or two longer. Don't think too much about yourself when you pray. You must lose your soul if you would save it. There is probably some one thing or some one person easier than others for you to pray for. Begin with that. I never try, as some people do, to classify and enter into details about my sins. I bring the whole contradictory, weary, and unintelligible mass of them to God, and leave them with Him. I am quite sure I shall never do better without Him. But I know that He believes in me, and will help me in spite of myself. He believes in you too, dear old fellow! May God bless you for your kindness to me! Write me just a short note to tell me that you don't despise me in spite of what must seem to you rather unintelligible and ridiculous confessions. I can't help it. And if you can bring yourself to do it, call me too by my Christian name. _To the same._ Christ's College, Cambridge: September 28, 1900.