immediately back to Siegwart's.

When he returned home, he wrote in his diary:

"May 21st.--Surprising and wonderful!

"When my uncle's little Agnes died, my aunt took ill, and my uncle's
condition bordered on insanity; tortured by excruciating anguish, he
murmured against Providence. He accused God of cruelty and injustice,
because he took from him a child he loved so much, he lost all
self-control, and had not strength to bear the misfortune with
resignation. And now the Siegwart family are in the same circumstances;
the father is much broken down, much afflicted, but very resigned; his
trembling lips betray the affliction that presses on his heart, but
they make no complaints against Providence.

"'I thank you for your sympathy,' said he to me. 'The trial is painful;
but God knows what he does. The Lord gave me the dear child; the Lord
has taken her away. His holy will be done.' So spoke Siegwart. While he
said this, a perceptible pain changed his manly countenance, and he lay
like a quivering victim on the altar of the Lord. Siegwart's wife, a
beautiful woman, with calm, mild eyes, wept inwardly. Her mother's
heart bled from a thousand wounds; but she showed the same self-control
and resignation as Siegwart did to the will of the Most High.

"And Angela? I do not understand her at all. She speaks of Eliza as of
one sleeping, or of one who has gone to a place where she is happy. But
sometimes a spasm twitches her features; then her eyes rest on the
crucifix that stands amid the lighted candles. The contemplation of the
crucifix seems to afford her strength and vigor. This is a mystery to
me. I cannot conceive the mysterious power of that carved figure.

"Misery does not depress these people: it ennobles them. I have never
seen the like. When I compare their conduct with that of those I have
known, I confess that the Siegwart family puts my acquaintance as well
as myself to shame.

"What gives these people this strength, this calm, this resignation?
Religion, perhaps. Then religion is infinitely more than a mere
conception, a mere external rule of faith.

"I am beginning to suspect that between heaven and earth there exists,
for those who live for heaven, a warm, living union. It appears to me
that Providence does not, indeed, exempt the faithful from the common
lot of earthly affliction; but he gives them strength which transcends
the power of human nature.

"I have undertaken the task of putting Angela to