There ought, Hugh thought, to be a
reserve of sober piety and hopefulness on which one could draw in those
dark days. There were no doubt many equable and phlegmatic people who,
as the old poet said,

"Perfacile angustis tolerabant finibus aevom,"
(In narrow bounds an easy life endured).

But for those whose perceptions were keen, who lived upon joy, from the
very constitution of their nature, how were such natures--and he knew
that he was of the number--to avoid sinking into the mire of the Slough
of Despond, how were they to rejoice in the valley of humiliation?
What was to be their well in the vale of misery? How were the pools to
be filled with water?

The answer seemed to be that it could only be achieved by work, by
effort, by prayer. If one had definite work in hand, it carried one
over these languid intervals. How often had the idea of setting to
work in these listless moods seemed intolerable; yet how soon one
forgot oneself in the exercise of congenial labour! Here came in the
worth of effort, that one could force oneself to the task, commit
oneself to the punctual discharge of an unwelcome duty. And if even
that failed, then one could cast oneself into an inner region, in the
spirit of the Psalmist, when he said, "Open thy mouth wide and I will
fill it." One could fling one's prayer into the dark void, as the
sailors from a sinking ship shoot a rocket with a rope attached to the
land, and then, as they haul it in, feel with joy the rope strain
tight, and know that it has found a hold.

Hugh felt that such experience as this, experience, that is, in the
vital force of prayer, might be called a subjective experience, and
could not be put to a scientific test. But for all that, there was
nothing which of late years had so grown upon him as the consciousness
of the effectiveness of a certain kind of prayer. This was not a
mechanical repetition of verbal forms, but a strong and secret
uplifting of the heart to the Father of all. There were moments when
one seemed baffled and powerless, when one's own strength seemed
utterly unequal to the burden; prayer on such occasions did not
necessarily bring a perfect serenity and joy, though there were times
when it brought even that; but it brought sufficient strength; it made
the difficult, the dreaded thing possible. Hugh had proved this a
hundred times over, and the marvel to him was that he did not use it
more; but the listless mind sometimes could