"Thou art right Mazel," interrupted Edmond, "I myself was of this belief a short time ago." "But now," continued the old man in his relation, "all our souls acquired an entirely different colour, they were clad in new vestments, for we had not thought of it thus, and we came to our recollection, but in a very different manner. Were I in the wood and my dog only whined, it seemed precisely to me as if it were my conscience. Yes, I was struck, I sought for, but could not find the hidden jewel. My wife then consoled me once more, and thought that all would certainly come round again.--Now it was strange enough, that a pious society had already long since arisen in Dauphiné. An aged man lived there upon a high mountain in the middle of a wood. He had a glass-manufactory in that solitude. Now we have all experienced that mountain and valley, the air that one breathes there, the murmurings, the singular voices, the cry and the echo, make a man bolder, fresher, and also more imaginative; he no longer fears his brethren in the cities, he prizes not so highly the stone-houses and the smooth streets, and all the singing of bells. The man Du Serre had visions and revelations. He did not, however, go about preaching. He, as well as myself, was wanting in that gift, but he was endowed with that of foresight. Can one learn that from another? we must believe it, and our times confirm it. But how? there lies the riddle! Should it be called an art? by no means! The enemies call it imposture, that is impious. Well, this glass-manufacturer kept fifteen young men in his house, and his wife as many young girls, they almost all experienced the enlightening, and the greater part of them the gift of preaching. Thus then did they go out into the world. The fame of beautiful Isabelle was soon spread abroad. She seduced every-body to apostacy, as the others termed it. Still more efficaciously did a youth, named Gabriel Astier, teach and convert. A part of Dauphiné and our neighbourhood of Vivarès soon became one flame of religion. The children then already began to prophecy. But the poor creatures, without weapons of defence in their too zealous faith, were surprised by the soldiers, and the greatest number massacred. Our Basville and his son-in-law, the Marshal Broglio, bore the fame of having massacred them all. Gabriel also, who had become a soldier in Montpellier, was recognized and executed, and the lovely Isabelle from fear, in the dungeon of Grenoble, retracted from her faith, and thus all had the appearance of tranquillity. Sparks of the faith, however, and of the force of miracles had been scattered and lost in the Cevennes. For the spirit possesses the property of fire, which, out of a little spark, by which a small beetle cannot warm itself, grows, in a few hours, into a brand that lays woods in ashes, and mocks all human efforts to extinguish it. What may not lie in one single word? Oh thou mournful sound, like the twittering of the