There was nothing of importance that struck me during the service, save the reading of one of the lessons.

It was the story of the youth who was possessed with a devil, which the disciples could not cast out.

The minister was, I should think, a good man, for he read it naturally, and with a great deal of power; and when he came to the part where Jesus came and caused the evil spirit to come out of him, my heart throbbed with joy.

Was there hope for me?
Was Jesus Christ still the same wonderful power?
Was He here now--to help, to save?
That was at the end of three months.
I went home and prayed--prayed to be delivered from the evil power which chained me.
I might as well have turned my thoughts in another direction for all the good I could see it did me.

The old numbing feeling still possessed me.
My little spark of faith began to die.