“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.

“That is very much of what I feel.  In this frame of mind, half stay-at-home, half gipsy-like, if I take up a book of the higher mysticism—­Saint Theresa or Saint Angela—­that subtle touch gains definiteness, I am aware of shocks running through me; I fancy that my soul is convalescent, that it is young again, and breathes once more; but if I try to take advantage of this lucid moment to collect myself and to pray, it is all over—­I flee from myself—­nothing will work.  What misery, and how pitiable!

“The Abbe Gevresin has guided me so far, but how?

“He has trusted chiefly to the method of expectancy, restricting himself to combating my generally flaccid state, and invigorating me rather than contending with details.  He has prescribed the heroic remedies of the soul, desiring me to communicate when he found me weak.  But, if I am not mistaken, he is now turning his batteries.  Either he is giving up a line of attack which has failed, or else, on the contrary, he is improving it, his treatment having produced, without my being aware of it, the effects he was aiming at; in either case, to promote or complete the cure, he wants to send me to a convent.

“The plan seems to be, indeed, part of his system, for he did the same thing when he was helping in my conversion.  He sent me off to a health resort for the soul—­and the waters were powerful indeed and terrible; now he thinks I no longer need have so severe a treatment inflicted on me, and he is persuading me to stay in a more restful place, a less bracing air—­is that it?

“Even his way of coming up unexpectedly and hurling his opinion at me is not quite the same as it was.  This time, it was, indeed, not he who undertook to crystallize my irresolution by announcing my departure for Solesmes; but it comes to the same thing.  For, after all, there is something not quite above board in this affair.  Why did the Abbe Plomb promise the Benedictines that he would take me with him?

“He certainly acted on the request of the Abbe Gevresin.  There can have been no other reason for his talking of me to the Fathers.  I have, indeed, spoken to him of my distress of mind, of my vague craving for retirement, and my love for monasteries.  But I certainly did not suggest that he should thus take the lead, and hurry matters on so!