Read "A Book of Strife in the Form of the Diary of an Old Soul" by George MacDonald online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
1. I TO myself have neither power nor worth, Patience nor love, nor anything right good; My soul is a poor land, plenteous in dearth -- Here blades of grass, there a small herb for food -- A nothing that would be something if it could; But if obedience, Lord, in me do grow, I shall one day be better than I know.
2. The worst power of an evil mood is this -- It makes the bastard self seem in the right, Self, self the end, the goal of human bliss. But if the Christ-self in us be the might Of saving God, why should I spend my force With a dark thing to reason of the light -- Not push it rough aside, and hold obedient course?