Let those who do not believe in Christ read this page; I no longer believed in Him.  Neither as a child, nor at school, nor as a man, have I frequented churches; my religion, if I had any, had neither rite nor symbol, and I believed in a God without form, without a cult, and without revelation.  Poisoned, from youth, by all the writings of the last century, I had sucked, at an early hour, the sterile milk of impiety.  Human pride, that God of the egoist, closed my mouth against prayer, while my affrighted soul took refuge in the hope of nothingness.  I was as if drunken or insensate when I saw that effigy of Christ on Brigitte’s bosom; while not believing in Him myself, I recoiled, knowing that she believed in Him.

It was not vain terror that arrested my hand.  Who saw me?  I was alone and it was night.  Was it prejudice?  What prevented me from hurling out of my sight that little piece of black wood?  I could have thrown it into the fire, but it was my weapon I threw there.  Ah! what an experience that was and still is for my soul!  What miserable wretches are men who mock at that which can save a human being!  What matters the name, the form, the belief?  Is not all that is good sacred?  How dare any one touch God?

As at a glance from the sun the snows descend the mountains, and the glaciers that threatened heaven melt into streams in the valley, so there descended into my heart a stream that overflowed its banks.  Repentance is a pure incense; it exhaled from all my suffering.  Although I had almost committed a crime when my hand was arrested, I felt that my heart was innocent.  In an instant, calm, self-possession, reason returned; I again approached the bed; I leaned over my idol and kissed the crucifix.

“Sleep in peace,” I said to her, “God watches over you!  While your lips were parting in a smile, you were in greater danger than you have ever known before.  But the hand that threatened you will harm no one; I swear by the faith you profess I will not kill either you or myself!  I am a fool, a madman, a child who thinks himself a man.  God be praised!  You are young and beautiful.  You live and you will forget me.  You will recover from the evil I have done you, if you can forgive me.  Sleep in peace until day, Brigitte, and then decide our fate; to whatever sentence you pronounce I will submit without complaint.

“And thou, Lord, who hast saved me, grant me pardon.  I was born in an impious century, and I have many crimes to expiate.  Thou Son of God, whom men forget, I have not been taught to love Thee.  I have never worshipped in Thy temples, but I thank heaven that where I find Thee, I tremble and bow in reverence.  I have at least kissed with my lips a heart that is full of Thee.  Protect that heart so long as life lasts; dwell within it, Thou Holy One; a poor unfortunate has been brave enough to defy death at the sight of Thy suffering and Thy death; though impious, Thou hast saved him from evil; if he had believed, Thou wouldst have consoled him.