One cannot love those whose ideas are
different, at least I cannot; a mental atmosphere suitable to our
minds is as necessary as fresh air is to our lungs. And I feel it a
great privilege to be allowed to live among chaste women, no longer
to feel sure of my own unworthiness, no longer; it is terrible to
live always at war with oneself. The eyes of the nuns and their
voices exhale an atmosphere in which it seems to me my soul can
rise, and very often as I walk in the garden with them I feel as if
I were walking upon air. Owen Asher used to think that intellectual
conversation kindled the soul; so it does in a way; and great works
of art enkindle the soul and exalt it; but there is another
exaltation of soul which is not discoverable in the intellect, and I
am not sure that it is not the greater: the exaltation of which I
speak is found in obedience, in submission, yes, and in ignorance,
in trying--I will not say to lower oneself--but in trying to bring
oneself within the range of the humble intelligence and to
understand it. And there is plenty of opportunity for this in the
convent. To explain what I mean, and perhaps to pass away the tedium
of an afternoon which seems long drawn out, I will put down here for
you, Monsignor, the conversation, as much as I can remember of it,
which introduced me to the inhabitants of the novitiate.
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