"In that case--well, well, so much the better! for after all sooner or later I must decide, I must make up my mind as to what I really mean; have some definite notion of the value of my promissory notes, of the greater or less strength of my energy, my fitness, my limitations. "A few months ago I longed for the monastic life, that is beyond doubt--and now I am wavering. I have abortive gushes of feeling, ineffectual projects, inclinations which fail, wishes which come short--I will and I will not. Still it is needful to understand oneself; but of what use is it for me to try to sound the well of my own soul? If I go down into it, I find everything dark and cold and empty. "I am beginning to think that by dint of staring into that darkness I am becoming like a child that fixes its eyes on the blackness of night; I end by creating phantoms and inventing terrors. That is certainly the case as regards this excursion to Solesmes, for there is nothing, absolutely nothing to justify my alarms. "How silly this all is; how much simpler it would be to allow myself to live, and, above all, to be led!" "I have hit it," he went on after a moment's reflection. "The cause of this turmoil is evident. It is my lack of self-abandonment, my want of confidence in God--yes, and my little love, my dryness of spirit, which have brought me to this state. "In the lapse of time this disorder has brought on the malady from which I am suffering, an utter anaemia of the soul, aggravated by the patient's terrors, since he, unaware of the nature of the complaint, exaggerates its importance. "Thus stands my balance-sheet since I came to Chartres. "The position is very different from what it was in Paris. For the phase I am going through is the very contrary to that in which I previously lived; in Paris my soul was not dry and friable, but dank and soft; it was saponaceous; the foot sank in it. In short, I was melting away, in a state of langour, more painful perhaps than this state of drought which is toughening me to horniness. Still on close examination, though the symptoms have changed, the evil persists; softness or dryness, the results are identical. "At the same time it seems strange that this spiritual anaemia should now exhibit such opposite symptoms. On one hand I am conscious of weariness, indifference, and torpor in prayer; it seems to me, bitter, vain, and hollow, so badly do I pray; I am inclined to let everything go, to cease the attempt, to wait for a glow of fervour which I cannot hope for; on the other hand, I am at the same time conscious of a persistent and obstinate yearning, an invisible touch, a craving for prayer, a constant invitation from God keeping me alert. And there are times, too, when, though I can prove to myself that I am not stirring, I fancy I am trembling and shall be swept away by a tide.