"You ought not to leave us. God has given you the ear of the nation as it is given only once in a hundred years." "But I am commanded." "If the angel Gabriel descended from heaven and bade you go, you ought not to leave France!" Théodore Monod, whose own family had been greatly blessed through the Maréchale, deeply sympathised with her, and grieved over her departure almost as if she had been his own daughter, but tried to comfort her by saying, "You leave us your hymns!" The day on which the Maréchale left France was one of the two or three dark days of her life. She felt somewhat like the young Scottish Queen who said as she gazed at the receding shores of Calais— "Adieu! mon charmant pays de France, Adieu! te quitter c’est mourir." And yet she believed in her heart that God would work out His gracious purpose, which no circumstances can ever alter. That she loved France with a deep, pure, passionate love does not need to be said. How France appreciated her in return may be indicated not only by M. Sarcey’s emphatic dictum, "The devil take the country where she was born! she is French in her soul," but by any letter taken at random from hundreds which she received from men and women of France. The following extract, faithfully translated, shows the calibre of the people whom the Maréchale was able to reach, as well as the warm, generous style in which the Latin races habitually express themselves. "The evening in which you spoke of the scene on Calvary and the words of the penitent thief, ’Remember me,’ that simple story, told by a believing soul, had more effect upon me than all the theses, quotations and theological arguments of all the doctors I have ever heard. That expression, that attitude, that conviction, that certitude, that assurance, that _living faith_ which affirmed itself before me in an apostle, a new disciple of Christ, and that melodious voice, completed my transformation. I believed that I was the penitent thief and you the Christ who said to me, ’When I am in Heaven I will remember thee,’ and that affirmation transported me.... "I marvel at the courage with which you endure fatigue, mockery, journeys, labours of all kinds to conquer for truth and light the millions of _savages_ who are still in France, plunged in the darkness of error and superstition. Permit me to express once again my sincere admiration, and to offer you in the name of my country (I am perhaps a little presumptuous to speak in the name of France, but I have the right, as much as the other ten millions of citizens)—in the name of my country, and in the name of civilisation, my warm gratitude. Deign to accept the homage ... of a very humble soldier and disciple of Christ." Swiss love, too, was now deep and strong, as will be sufficiently proved by a single letter, which enclosed a thankoffering.