ooking at
that moon, clouded from us, you were very wrong to feel yourself so
helpless; how much reason had you to hope! At that very moment I was
being protected by Providence in a way that rebukes all pride.

The next day we had the most lovely dawn over the deeply coloured autumn
woods in this country where I made my sketches of three years ago; but
just here the landscape becomes accentuated and enlarged and acquires a
pathetic majesty. How can I tell you the grandeur of the horizon! We are
remaining in this magnificent place, and this is All Saints' Day!

At the moment, I write to you in the silvery light of a sun rising over
the valley mists; we are conscious of the sleeping country for forty
kilometres around, and battle hardly disturbs the religious gravity of
the scene.

Do love my proposed picture! It makes a bond with my true career. If it
is vouchsafed to me to return, the form of the picture may change, but
its essence is contained in the sketch.

_Mid-day._--Splendid All Saints' Day profaned by violence.

Glory of the day. . . .

_November 2, All Souls'._

Splendid feast of sun and of joy in the glorious beauty of a Meusian
landscape. Hope confines itself in the heart, not daring to insult the
grief of those for whom this day is perhaps the first day of
bereavement.

Dear beloved mother, twenty-eight years ago you were in a state of
mourning and hope to-day, the agony is as full of hope as then. It is at
a different age that these new trials occur, but a whole life of
submission prepares the way to supreme wisdom.

What joy is this perpetual thrill in the heart of Nature! That same
horizon of which I had watched the awakening, I saw last night bathe
itself in rosy light; then the full moon went up into a tender sky,
fretted by coral and saffron trees.

Dear, the frightful record of martyrdom of the best French youth cannot
go on indefinitely. It is impossible that the flower of a whole race can
disappear.

There must be some nobler task than war for the nation's genius! I have
a secret conviction of a better near future. May our courage and our
union lead us to this better thing. Hope, hope always! I received
grandmother's dear letter and M.R.'s kind and affectionate card.

Dear, have you this beautiful sun to-day? How noble is the country and
how good is Nature! To him who listens she says that nothing will ever
be lost.

_November 4, 10 o'clock._

I live only through your thoughts