this sad intelligence.  I have written to him by this post, but only that she is seriously ill; and now I shall wait for your answer and be guided by it.  May God give him strength and courage!  My dear friend, I am consoled not only now, but have been so for some time past.  By the mercy of God I have borne it all with firmness and composure.  When the danger became imminent, I prayed to God for only two things—­a happy death for my mother, and strength and courage for myself; and our gracious God heard my prayer and conferred these two boons fully on me.  I entreat you, therefore, my best friend, to watch over my father for me; try to inspire him with courage, that the blow may not be too hard and heavy on him when he learns the worst.  I also, from my heart, implore you to comfort my sister.  Pray go straight to them, but do not tell them she is actually dead—­only prepare them for the truth.  Do what you think best, say what you please; only act so that my mind may be relieved, and that I may not have to dread another misfortune.  Support and comfort my dear father and my dear sister.  Answer me at once, I entreat.  Adieu!  Your faithful

W. A. M.

107.

Paris, July 3, 1778.

Monsieur mon tres-cher pere,—­

I have very painful and sad news to give you, which has, in fact, been the cause of my not having sooner replied to your letter of the 11th.  My dearest mother is very ill.  She has been bled according to her usual custom, which was indeed very necessary; it did her much good, but a few days afterwards she complained of shivering and feverishness; then diarrhoea came on and headache.  At first we only used our home remedies, antispasmodic powders; we would gladly have had recourse to the black powder, but we had none, and could not get it here.  As she became every moment worse, could hardly speak, and lost her hearing, so that we were obliged to shout to her, Baron Grimm sent his doctor to see her.  She is very weak, and still feverish and delirious.  They do give me some hope, but I have not much.  I hoped and feared alternately day and night for long, but I am quite reconciled to the will of God, and hope that you and my sister will be the same.  What other resource have we to make us calm?  More calm, I ought to say; for altogether so we cannot be.  Whatever the result may be, I am resigned, knowing that it comes from God, who wills all things for our good, (however unaccountable they may seem to us;) and I do firmly believe (and shall never think otherwise) that no doctor, no man living, no misfortune, no casualty, can either save or take away the life of any human being—­none but God alone.  These are only the instruments that He usually employs, but not always; we sometimes see people swoon, fall down, and be dead in a moment.  When our time does come, all means are vain,—­ they rather hurry on death than retard it; this we saw in the case of our friend Hefner.  I do not mean to say