the administration, of which unfortunately my son is at the head.  I say unfortunately, since it is the spirit of independence and pride in him which has resisted all the warnings offered by Divine Providence, and which refuses even now to right the wrongs of the Sisters of St. Jean; though, if it may be permitted to me to say it, as his mother, it was very fortunate in the late troubles that Martin Dupin found himself at the head of the Commune of Semur—­since who else could have kept his self-control as he did?—­caring for all things and forgetting nothing; who else would, with so much courage, have entered the city? and what other man, being a person of the world and secular in all his thoughts, as, alas! it is so common for men to be, would have so nobly acknowledged his obligations to the good God when our misfortunes were over?  My constant prayers for his conversion do not make me incapable of perceiving the nobility of his conduct.  When the evidence has been incontestible he has not hesitated to make a public profession of his gratitude, which all will acknowledge to be the sign of a truly noble mind and a heart of gold.

I have long felt that the times were ripe for some exhibition of the power of God.  Things have been going very badly among us.  Not only have the powers of darkness triumphed over our holy church, in a manner ever to be wept and mourned by all the faithful, and which might have been expected to bring down fire from Heaven upon our heads, but the corruption of popular manners (as might also have been expected) has been daily arising to a pitch unprecedented.  The fetes may indeed be said to be observed, but in what manner?  In the cabarets rather than in the churches; and as for the fasts and vigils, who thinks of them? who attends to those sacred moments of penitence?  Scarcely even a few ladies are found to do so, instead of the whole population, as in duty bound.  I have even seen it happen that my daughter-in-law and myself, and her friend Madame de Bois-Sombre, and old Mere Julie from the market, have formed the whole congregation.  Figure to yourself the bon Dieu and all the blessed saints looking down from heaven to hear—­four persons only in our great Cathedral!  I trust that I know that the good God does not despise even two or three; but if any one will think of it—­the great bells rung, and the candles lighted, and the cure in his beautiful robes, and all the companies of heaven looking on—­and only us four!  This shows the neglect of all sacred ordinances that was in Semur.  While, on the other hand, what grasping there was for money; what fraud and deceit; what foolishness and dissipation!  Even the Mere Julie herself, though a devout person, the pears she sold to us on the last market day before these events, were far, very far, as she must have known, from being satisfactory.  In the same way Gros-Jean, though a peasant from our own village near La Clairiere, and a man for whom we have often done little services, attempted to impose upon me about the wood for the winter’s use, the very night before these occurrences.  ’It is enough,’ I cried out, ‘to bring the dead out of their graves.’  I did not know—­the holy saints forgive me!—­how near it was to the moment when this should come true.