if I should write.

When Desgenais left me I became so desperate that I resolved to put an
end to my trouble. After a terrible struggle, horror got the better of
love. I wrote my mistress that I would never see her again, and begged
her not to try to see me unless she wished to be exposed to the shame of
being refused admittance. I called a servant and ordered him to deliver
the letter at once. He had hardly closed the door when I called him back.
He did not hear me; I did not dare call again; covering my face with my
hands, I yielded to an overwhelming sense of despair.

CHAPTER IV

THE PATH OF DESPAIR

The next morning the first question that occurred to my mind was: "What
shall I do?"

I had no occupation. I had studied medicine and law without being able to
decide on either of the two careers; I had worked for a banker for six
months, and my services were so unsatisfactory that I was obliged to
resign to avoid being discharged. My studies had been varied but
superficial; my memory was active but not retentive.

My only treasure, after love, was reserve. In my childhood I had devoted
myself to a solitary way of life, and had, so to speak, consecrated my
heart to it. One day my father, solicitous about my future, spoke to me
of several careers among which he allowed me to choose. I was leaning on
the window-sill, looking at a solitary poplar-tree that was swaying in
the breeze down in the garden. I thought over all the various occupations
and wondered which one I should choose. I turned them all over, one after
another, in my mind, and then, not feeling inclined to any of them, I
allowed my thoughts to wander. Suddenly it seemed to me that I felt the
earth move, and that a secret, invisible force was slowly dragging me
into space and becoming tangible to my senses. I saw it mount into the
sky; I seemed to be on a ship; the poplar near my window resembled a
mast; I arose, stretched out my arms, and cried:

"It is little enough to be a passenger for one day on this ship floating
through space; it is little enough to be a man, a black point on that
ship; I will be a man, but not any particular kind of man."

Such was the first vow that, at the age of fourteen, I pronounced in the
face of nature, and since then I have done nothing, except in obedience
to my father, never being able to overcome my repugnance.

I was therefore free, not through indolence but by choice; loving,
moreover, all that God had mad