Sunday, 20 April 1873

Fine, rain through the sunshine, then grey and fine.
Easter. Holy Feast.
I rose at eleven. Lise Howard came to wish me a happy Easter; I was in my chemise. She stayed with me in the bedroom. Then visitors arrived.
My hat was delivered — like Mlle de Galve's but in Italian straw, very pretty; I am very satisfied with it.
On the terrace (black dress, Dina's ecru tunic, new hat — very good; face tired).
Then to the concert, the crowd entirely handsome locals. How I wish I could leave! I am so bored! I do not know if this boredom seems so great because of my fatigue — I went to bed late last night — or whether I am truly bored. There is no one.
Nice is unbearable. Oh! how I wish I could leave!
[Intercalated page: 1874, 29 July, Spa.
So great was the hope, so fervently did I pray, that in reading this it seems to me that what I asked for will come to pass one day. I remember how much warmth and enthusiasm I put into the prayers I said in the evening and wrote down. It seems to me impossible that it should turn out otherwise. I was so certain.
Despite what exists, I am carried along to believe that what I [Crossed out: prayed for] asked for will be. It is today's folly; tomorrow perhaps I shall wonder how I could believe today in the follies of the past.]
I am so unhappy today. Besides, I am always bored during all holidays. Then home.
In the evening we go to the theater — I wanted to go to the Italian opera, a performance by Mme Galletti of La Favorite. I do not know, in any case, whether I want to go; I do not know what I want today.
I began reading Mrs Haliburton's Troubles by Mrs Henry Wood. And I read the following lines:
Whatever may be your object in life, work on for it. Be you the heir of a Dukedom or be your heritage but that of daily toil, an object you must have, a man who has none is the most miserable being on the face of the globe. Bear manfully onward and get the prize.
Then:
Only be resolute; only regard trustingly the end, and labour for it and it will surely come. It may look at the distance so far off that the very hope of attaining it seems but a chimera. Never mind, bear hopefully on, and the distance will lessen palpably with every step. No real good was ever attained to in this world, without working for it.
No real good, as I honestly believe, was ever gained, unless God's blessing was with the endeavours for it.
Make a friend of God.
That impressed me. But what must one do to obtain what one desires? I despair because I have not the slightest hope. My bad moods come from that. What would I not do, my God! My object — I have one. Oh yes! But how to obtain it? What to do?
I despair, and it makes me unhappy. I must not despair — I must not. I must have faith in God. Without Him one has nothing in this world.
I believe in Him; I have faith in Him.
He always protects me. Until now He gives me everything I ask for, even small things. What right have I not to hope?
Perhaps He sends me this time when I have nothing to make me hope. He wishes to see whether I can trust in Him without any visible sign that my goal draws near. Whether I can refrain from murmuring. I do not murmur, Lord! No, my God.
How can I dare to wish that everything should come to me in a single day? I am too presumptuous. With God's help I shall perhaps have everything in time — in His time. I hope, and meanwhile I resign myself to what I have. But my God! help me, do not abandon me.
[Intercalated page: This passage fills me with astonishment. In rereading my diary, I forget myself and think as I did then.
It is impossible that one should insist upon such a thing without reason. This English passage astonishes me, confuses my thoughts, and makes me think as I did then. It would be too audacious to insist so upon a foolish thing; what he says there must be founded on something.
And who knows — perhaps He sends me this time of entire revolution, of complete change of everything, to test me still! Who knows, perhaps He caused what happened in order to test me, and I did not know how to endure the trial!
Very often, nearly always, I neglected my prayers; I said them quickly without thinking. I no longer prayed.
I was so disappointed that I no longer asked for anything properly.
The fact is that I cannot, I must no longer reasonably pray for what I prayed for then.
But at this moment I pray, and as if I had no religion, no belief, no virtue except in that hope without which everything fell away. It is true — since then I am no longer what I was.]

Notes

In English in the original.