On the 26th we were made to remain on duty, in positions occupied only
at night as a rule. Our purely defensive position was lucky that day,
for we were exposed only to slight artillery fire; but on our right a
regiment of our division, in one of the terrible emplacements of
October 14th, received an awful punishment, of which the inconclusive
result cost several hundred lives. Here in our great village, where our
kind hostess knew, as we did, the victims, all is sadness.


_Same day._

. . . Nothing attacks the soul. The torture can certainly be very great,
especially the apprehension, but questions coming from the distance can
be silenced by acceptation of what is close. The weather is sweet and
soft, and Nature is indifferent. The dead will not spoil the spring. . . .

And then, once the horror of the moment is over, when one sees its place
taken by only the memory of those who have gone, there is a kind of
sweetness in the thought of what _really exists_. In these solemn woods
one realises the inanity of sepulchres and the pomp of funerals. The
souls of the brave have no need of all that. . . .


_4 o'clock._

I have just finished the fourth portrait, a lieutenant in my company. He
is delighted. Daylight fades. I send you my thoughts, full of
cheerfulness. Hope and wisdom.