Hélène wrote to me on the 10th, Feast of St. Paul the Hermit, full of admiration for the poetic history of this saint: the raven daily bringing half a loaf to the solitary; the visit of St. Antony; St. Paul asking if houses were still built; St. Antony exclaiming when he returned to the monastery: “I have seen Elias; I have seen John in the desert; I have seen Paul in Paradise”; the lions digging the grave of this friend of God――what a poem! René has brought me back the _Consolations_ of M. de Sainte-Beuve. How is it that the poets of our time have not remained Christian? In his _Souvenirs d’Enfance_ (“Memories of Childhood”) the author of the _Consolations_ says to God: “Tu m’aimais entre tous, et ces dons qu’on désire, Ce pouvoir inconnu qu’on accorde à la lyre, Cet art mystérieux de charmer par la voix, Si l’on dit que je l’ai, Seigneur, je te le dois.”[32] Karl tells me that he carefully keeps on his heart the last words traced by Ellen. It is like the _testament_ of our saintly darling, whom I seem still to see. I had omitted to mention this. The evening before her death, after I had written by her side the solemn and touching effusions for those who had not, like us, been witnesses of the admirable spectacle of her deliverance, the breaking of the bonds which held her captive in this world of sorrows, Ellen asked me to let her write. Ten minutes passed in this effort, this victorious wrestling of the soul over sickness and weakness. On the sealed envelope which she then gave me was written one word only――“Karl.” Would you like to have this last adieu, Kate? How I have kissed these two almost illegible lines: “My beloved husband, I leave you this counsel of St. Bernard for your consolation: ‘Holy soul, remain alone, in order that thou mayest keep thyself for Him alone whom thou hast chosen above all!’” What a track of light our sweet Ellen has left behind her! Love me, dearest Kate! JANUARY 25. We leave in a week, my dearest Kate. René made a point of returning to the south, whose blue sky we shall not quit without regret; and also he wished to pray once more with us in Ellen’s room. Karl does not wish the _Chalet of souvenirs_ to pass into strange hands. He had rented it for a year; René proposed to him to buy it, and the matter was settled yesterday. I am writing to Mistress Annah, to lay before her the offer of a good work, capable of tempting her self-devotion――namely, that she should install herself at the _chalet_, and there take in a few poor sick people, and we might perhaps return thither. What do you think of this plan, dearest Kate?