tion.
But
when,
after
leaving
their
source,
they
have
an
easy
outlet,
the
more
rapidly
they
flow,
the
more
they
are
preserved.
You
will
remember
I
remarked
before
of
this
soul,
that
as
soon
as
God
imparted
to
it
the
gift
of
passive
faith.
He
gave
it
at
the
same
time
an
instinct
to
seek
after
Him
as
its
centre
;
but
in
its
unfaithfulness
it
stifles
by
its
repose
this
instinct
to
seek
God,
and
would
remain
stationary,
if
God
did
not
revive
this
instinct
by
bringing
it
to
the
tdi%<Q,
of
the
mountain,
whence
it
is
compelled
to
preci-pitate
itself.
At
first
it
is
sensible
that
it
has
lost
that
calmness
which
it
expected
to
retain
for
ever.
Its
waters,
formerly
so
tranquil,
begin
to
be
noisy.
A
tumult
is
seen
in
its
waves;
they
run
and
dash
over.
But
where
do
they
run
?
Alas
!
as
they
imagine,
it
is
to
their
own
destruction.
If
it
were
in
their
power
to
desire
anything,
they
would
wish
to
restrain
themselves,
and
return
to
their
former
calm.
But
this
is
impossible.
The
declivity
is
found;
they
must
be
precipitated
from
slope
to
slope.
It
is
no
longer
a
question
of
abyss
or
of
loss.
The
water,
that
is
the
soul,
always
reappears,
