JOURNEY TO BELGIUM; VISIT TO GHENT; JOURNAL OF HER TRAVELS;
LETTER FROM THE RHINE FALLS; HOMEWARD JOURNEY; ARRIVAL AT
CALAIS.
In 1835, Mrs. Opie again visited the Continent. As on former occasions,
she kept a daily Journal, which is written in very fine characters and
in pencil. Her route was directed through Bruges and Ghent to Brussels,
where she was to join her friend Madame M., with whom she purposed
making a trip up the Rhine.
The earlier part of this Journal, giving an account of her visit to the
various charitable institutions in the city of Ghent, Mrs. Opie
published in _Tait’s Magazine_ for 1840. From Ghent, she proceeded to
Brussels; and at this point of her journey we invite the reader to
accompany us, as we follow her steps; occasionally making an extract
from her note book. Her friend not having arrived, Mrs. Opie, awaiting
her coming, established herself at the Hôtel de France; she says:—
(First day, 2nd of 8th mo.) I have not been out, and perhaps
shall not stir; yesterday I read a good deal of dear
Mackintosh’s life. How rare is truth! _All_ relative to me,
except M.’s strictures and opinion of my Memoir of my husband,
_is erroneous_. W. Ashburner, called my cousin!—the
“Forget-me-not,” which I wrote years after W. A. died, and I was
a wife, said to be addressed to him! That song was written to
_no one_. It is a most interesting memoir, and Sir J.’s praises
and just appreciation of my husband delight me, his praise of me
is welcome also; but I shed tears while I read, for past joys,
and for those who live no more! How have I wept over what I
could not but turn to, an account of the dear man’s death. Yes!
it is, I am sure it is, satisfactory. He was no daring sceptic,
but a _seeker_ to the last, and fully do I believe he _found_
and was accepted in the Redeemer! And he was kind to every
one;—oh! so truly kind. He loved to give pleasure certainly,
and those who do this, have _something_ at least, that was in
Christ Jesus.
Who that reads these last touching words can fail to apply them to the
dear, loving, and beloved writer? alas! now those who loved her must
weep, because she, too, lives no more.
Madame M. having arrived, they went by the _chemin de fer_, (which they
did not find so swift a passage as they expected,) to Anvers, and next
day, (the 8th) proceeded to visit the citadel, and walked over every
part of it, and also saw the Scheldt and its banks, Flemish and Dutch;
thence to Nôtre Dame to see the pictures by Rubens.
Words cannot express (she says) my feelings at sight of the
Descent from the Cross, _in the light_ which it was painted for
probably. What grand conception! What motion in all the figures!
The scene, the subject, the sense of surpassing genius, and the
living effect of everything, quite overcame me, even unto tears.
On Sunday, after a “sitting,” in her own room alone, she went with her
friend to see several churches, and at one of them the _concierge_, on
their approaching the altar,
* * * made a dreadful noise, with something in his hand, to
forbid it, and as we did not immediately leave the church he
cried “_allez!_” and when we came to the door, which he held in
his hand, his look at me was fierce and appalling, and in
Flemish (as I suppose) he said something which seemed to me
_trembleurs; il avait l’air si menaçant que, si javois tardé de
quitter la porte, je crois qu’il m’auroit donné un coup
quelconque, ses lêvres etoient pâles, comme la mort!_
From Antwerp the travellers returned to Brussels, whence they started on
the 12th, for Namur, going “unconsciously by the road, _not_ over the
plain of Waterloo—a disappointment, but we saw distinctly the mound and
the white lion on it, which mark the _spot_.” From Namur, they proceeded
to Huy and Liège, and on the 13th, visited Chaude Fontaine, with which
Mrs. Opie was rather disappointed, and “one thought of dear Scotland”
dimmed the beauty of this pretty vale in her eyes. Of the cathedral at
Liège, she says, “the roof curious, the whole a grandly simple edifice,
sculpture in wood excellent; pictures good for little.”
On the 16th they were at Spa, of which she writes:—
This is a lovely spot indeed; to me, how does it bring back my
earliest recollections! Poor Amisant used to give me _bons bons_
and toys from Spa, and tell me stories of it! dined at the
_table d’hôte_; forty persons present—good company. Next day
went to see a famous cascade; the drive thither through a deeply
wooded ravine, was beautiful; the cascade itself trumpery. We
came back by Malmedy, a pretty town in Prussia, picturesque in
buildings and lovely in situation. On the 20th we were to have
seen a curious grotto, but could not get horses on account of
the odious races. Well! money saved, and fatigue avoided; a
hundred persons dined at the _table d’hôte_.
They left Spa for Aix la Chapelle, on the 21st, and though disappointed
in the country around, were surprised at the width of streets and beauty
of the buildings in Aix. Of the cathedral at Aix, Mrs. Opie writes,
“outside, in parts, it is beautiful, light, and imposing; and the Hôtel
de Ville, old and grand, (when _entire_,) as a palace. The fountain
opposite to it, with a statue of Charlemagne, in complete armour, with
the crown on the head, is curious and interesting, but the passages for
the water are small, and have a bad effect.” On the 23rd, her Journal
proceeds:—
Rose depressed, Sunday no sabbath for me! This is an odious
place. I enjoyed my quiet sitting at home, and was with my dear
and endeared brethren and sisters at N. meeting in spirit; in
the afternoon drove to Louisberg, an exquisite drive and
beautiful walks, commanding the forest _des Ardennes_, (no doubt
that of the Duke, Rosalind, &c.,) a splendid view; saw, too, the
ever-boiling fountain at the village called Bouille; I hope it
was not a profanation of the sabbath to go to these places.
(24th.) All noise, bustle, and carriages, come in for the
races. No one seems to think of anything but _les courses_. We
have _bitten_ all nations now, with this vicious folly! We went
to see the _Trésor_ at the cathedral; the relics encased in
gold; was glad to see them, but the priest was evidently
disappointed at not seeing any marks of homage and reverence
about me, for what I saw! Afterwards went to see the church; but
was led away from attention to things of man’s creation, by the
sight and hearing of a man, in a blouse, who was kneeling before
the altar, and in a loud voice doing penance, his arms extended
in the form of a cross; so he remained at least half an hour,
and from the gallery above I watched him; as he went out, he
passed us, pale and feeble from his exertions. M. M. says she
has seen such a sight in Ireland, and that when he paused, there
were persons answering him from behind the confessional. (25th.)
Went to the cathedral, to see, and sit in, Charlemagne’s
chair. The man there again, _doing as before_: the sacristan
said it was no penance, it was a voluntary action; and he had an
idea of getting by that means to paradise, and that he _came
every day_ and staid near an hour! This sight interests me much,
be it how it may. After dinner went to shew myself, and be
_described_ at the passport office. Alas! could not get places
in the diligence for Cologne, till sixth day. Two more days in
this sink of dissipation! Really I turn from the scenes of
gambling, vice, and evil around me, with a feeling of comfort,
to the poor, _mistaken_, but pious man, and penitent conscious
sinner, in the cathedral!
On the 28th the travellers proceeded to Cologne, and next day the
Journal proceeds:—
My window looked on the river, and I rose at half-past four to
gaze at the Rhine; the sun was breaking behind a church, with
fine towers, and the water reflected objects. No one seemed
waking but myself. It was a still, sublime, and solemn moment.
At seven we came on board the steamer, where I now write; the
Rhine, broad and rapid, spreading around me. The banks are tame,
and fog hides the hills, but the voyage is truly pleasant, and
we are on the Rhine!
Landing at Bonn, they proceeded to Godesberg, lying at the foot of the
Drachenfels, which they ascended on asses, on the 1st of September; she
says:—
It was an exquisite day, and exquisite was the ascent. I enjoyed
it, in spite of the disagreeable way of going. We were so high,
that the many, and I may say, tall, vineyards, which we had
passed on our way, looked only like a carpet beneath us. The
lights on the mountains and on the river were very fine, and
Rolandseck and Roland tower were the finest features in the
scene. On the 2nd we were towed across to the island of
Nonningwerth, where was the nunnery, a fine establishment for
nuns indeed, and one for noble ladies. It would have delighted
me to have passed some time there, making excursions on the
Rhine from thence.
I had forgotten to mention our most interesting visit to
Kreuzberg, a high hill, rising near Bonn. There we saw the
buried monks, in a vault near the church; their bodies in a
wonderful state of preservation; the lids of the coffins are
decayed, and there they lie by each other’s side, some with the
nails, toes, and fingers, still fleshed, and so are parts of the
knees and legs. I do not remember to have seen any features
perfect. It was a curious sight, but did not affect me as I
expected it would have done. One thing strikes me on
recollection, which I did not think about at the moment, viz:
the great length of the limbs. We stay here a day to rest. The
students are very picturesque in their appearance, but they have
not long hair, at least, we have seen none. Oleanders are
everywhere here, like meaner flowers elsewhere, and so fine; one
of the students whom I saw, wore a straw hat, with bunches of
oleander stuck in it; this, with the naked throat, looked so
effeminate! I write this in a chair in the garden. Two days of
rain chilled the air, but then it _laid the dust_. There is
always in the physical, as well as in the moral world, some good
coming out of evil! (4th.) Took the steam-boat for Coblentz,
my heart full of thankfulness; after a _glorious_ voyage we
arrived, when it was quite dark. Our chambers looked on the
Rhine, and the moon shone on it, and the lights of the city on
the opposite shore (for we were at Ehrenbreitstein, whose grand
fortress towered behind us) added to the beauty of the scene. I
was loth to go to bed.
After two days’ stay at Coblentz they proceeded by the Rhine to Bingen,
and on the 7th ascended the Rüdesheim mountain, from the summit of which
they had “a glorious view indeed of the mighty river, into which the
river Nahe was seen sending its pale brown waters, contrasting with the
soft pale green of its superior neighbour. Eleven green islands in the
Rhine were visible from this high point.” Thence their way led to
Mayence; they stopped at one place to change horses, when Mrs. Opie
says: “I strolled down to the Rhine, where were peasants gaily dressed,
_en bateau_, singing and chorussing their national air, and then raising
a cry like that of our harvestmen, only sweeter.” Next day they saw
Mayence, and proceeded on to the Duke of Nassau’s palace, which she
calls “exquisitely handsome;” thence to Wiesbaden. On the 14th they were
at Frankfort, and went to church twice, being “charmed with the
preacher, Bonnet;” and after two days exploring in this city, they
proceeded on the 16th to Heidelberg, where, the Journal continues,—
We arrived late, after an exquisite drive; the castle grows on
one, the more one looks at it; its vastness is surprising, and
the beauty of its site, and trees, and gardens, and terraces, is
striking; but the Neckar, though pretty, is not large enough for
such an edifice, it should have been the Rhine. One view, up the
river, is the most advantageous to the castle. * * * The great
tun is not worth seeing by English persons, who know there are
such things as brewers’ tuns so much larger! Came home delighted
with all our sights. On the 19th to Manheim, a lovely drive, the
Rhine in all its beauty. We stopped at Schwetzingen, to see the
beautiful gardens; at M. we saw the grand Duke’s handsome
palace, 400 rooms in it; we did not see all, certainly. (20th,
Sabbath day.) Alas! at home till after dinner. (21st.) At
Carlsruhe. (23rd.) Set off at eight for Baden, the approach to
it is beautiful! that evening I drest and walked to the post,
and found a letter telling me of the death of E. B.; oh! her
poor mother. We then walked to Chabert’s, and sat under the
portico, and ate ice; and saw, but scarcely entered, the grand
room, where, all day, men and women are playing _rouge et noir_.
English most of them! (22nd.) Walked after dinner to see a
waterfall, the walk was exquisite along the edge of what is, and
in what was, the Black Forest. High indeed were the mountains
and rocks on either side, and on one towered the black pines of
the far-famed forest; the path was steep but gradual, along a
narrow murmuring torrent, which in a wet season must have been
very fine. After a mile’s walk, at least, we reached the wooden
bridge and the cascade, which was well worth coming to see, and
we did indeed enjoy our walk. (29th.) To church; it was nearly
full of English; a good sermon by an English gentleman. After
service walked in the burying-ground; the place was full of
crosses, fancies, and flowers, and of some pretty memorials.
After dinner at the _table d’hôte_, went to my room. (28th.)
Went to see the chateaux; the first, that of the Duchess
Stephanie; nothing remarkable externally, but there, beneath,
were the chambers of the secret tribunal! Alas! our guide was a
youth who could only speak German; however, he knew what we
wanted to see, and taking a lantern himself and giving us a
candle, he led us from the bright rooms and daylight into utter
darkness! we saw the _oubliette_, the room of judgment, and the
tribunal, or rather, place of it; the massy stone doors; the
dark airless cells; and what Mrs. Trollope has so well
described. We then drove to the ruins on the rock, a painfully
steep ascent for the horses, but they did it well! It is an
exquisite ruin, and from its top we beheld the valley of the
Rhine, lying shining and winding beneath, and to the east a mass
of beautiful mountains.
On the 30th the travellers left Baden, in company with friends, (and
friends and acquaintances they met at every turn,) and on the 1st of
October reached Friburg; with the interior of the cathedral they were
much struck, and its “windows, all of painted glass, such as I never saw
before;” the Journal proceeds;—
From thence we set off for Boldbach, _en route_ to the Falls,
and soon turning into a valley, went up, on foot, a very steep,
narrow, rocky defile, the river rolling and talking beneath, the
rocks and mountains so high, that in the carriage it was
difficult to see to the top, the vale was so narrow! It was
sublimely grand to look back, and so repeatedly did the road
wind, that it seemed we were blocked in by rocks! this was the
Black Forest, and the famous _gorge d’enfer_. The next thing,
worthy of equal admiration, was the Black Forest itself, through
which we passed, and the latter part of it we had the moon to
light us through. Before we reached the forest, we saw the Alps,
and, for _some time_, some nearer and plainer than others. Oh!
it was glorious!
(3rd of 10th mo.) Rose at five, but not off till past seven;
and I was going to the Falls of the Rhine! At length I heard
them roar, and saw them smoke! and as soon as the _voiture_
stopped at the inn, I ran off to the Falls.
TO THOMAS BRIGHTWELL.
Hotel of the Rhine Falls,
10th mo., 3rd, 1835.
I think, my dear friend, thou wilt not be sorry to hear a little
of my goings on. * * Thou didst not come as far as this spot,
and my journey has been extended much beyond my original plan;
but I am so delighted with the Rhine, that I could not resist
the temptation and opportunity—one which cannot occur again—of
seeing it in its wondrous beauty here. Three times have I
visited the Falls to-day, and, if the moon rises bright, I am to
visit them again. We came yesterday from Friburg, and to that
place we went from Baden Baden—a beautiful spot, but there is
no water except in the environs, and I admire no place where
water is not. Friburg Cathedral is most beautiful; they say
Strasburg is finer—_nous verrons_. From F. our route lay
through a very steep mountainous country, and through the Black
Forest, that haunt of banditti in former times, and the scene of
so many tales and romances. It is sublime in its dark-browed
beauty still, and a fine moon added to the solemn calm of the
scene. But the Alps! long before we saw the Forest the snow
mountains were in sight—and also long before we were in
Switzerland, Swiss cottages, Swiss chalets, and Swiss costumes,
met our eyes at every turn. We went, just after we left Friburg,
up a steep rocky defile, and up mountains, and through forests,
to the top of which our eyes could scarcely reach, and in which
the exquisite beauty of foliage and colouring went _de pair_
with sublimity—and from the top of these passes the snow
mountains first met my eager gaze. This morning we set off at
six precisely; we are at present travelling in a returned
carriage—which holds us and our luggage, and we find such modes
of conveyance the cheapest and best. It was half-past twelve
when we reached this hotel: _chemin faisant_ I heard the roar of
the Falls, and saw them smoke, and while my friend staid to eat
her breakfast, I (who had had coffee before starting) could not
delay my visit to this long-desired scene, and I hurried down a
steep path to it, which, if under less powerful influences, I
should have cautiously trodden—but I arrived safe at a railing
near the fall, and was awhile satisfied! but I soon changed my
place, and walked till I came in front of the mighty torrent.
Oh! those busy restless waters—no one can fancy what they are!
they must be seen to be conceived of! Some persons are
disappointed when they see them, and, in one respect, so should
I have been, had not prints prepared me for what I was to
expect. I am used to see and admire cascades that fall from a
height, over one narrow rock, and then over another—and perhaps
over another still; but _this_ is, I may say, like Niagara, a
_table_ or flat fall. It is a wide river, coming to an edge or
wall of rocks, and leaping over them—then gracefully rolling
on, like liquified _aqua marine_—that beautiful green stone of
such exquisite tint and clearness. The _chute_ itself is like
the purest snow; but, ever and anon, as the sun shone on it,
some of the tumbling masses, falling over the rocks below the
great fall, were like liquid sapphires and of the palest purest
blue. Still the Rhine here is, as a river, unlike its usual
self, of the full green blue, like the precious stone named
above. In its _best_ dress, where the boats go, thou mayst
remember, it is of that undefinable light, pale-blueish green,
the colour of Dresden china. When it flows smoothly on at this
place, it turns up a narrow channel, and glides along through
richly wooded rocks, and is seen no more! Oh! it is a glorious
river! and had it no banks, I should love it for itself alone!
There is something awful in the constant roar and eternal motion
of these waters! The sea is sometimes calm, and its roar becomes
a gentle murmuring, but these rolling waterfalls seem to know no
change, but fall and roar for ever, exempt from the common doom
of created things, which is to alter and to end. There is an
inhabited castle on a rock beside the Rhine-falls; I should like
to know whether its inhabitants have, of necessity, acquired the
habit of speaking so loud as to break the drum of the ears of
their acquaintances!
We go on improving in our enjoyments. I mean, the natural
beauties we see, go on increasing in sublimity and charm; and so
they had need, to console me for my trying absence from my
religious duties and opportunities, and my religious friends—my
sabbath days—ah! there is the trial. But I dare not repine, I
have put myself in the situation, and I often say to myself,
like the man in the play, “_tu l’as voulu, George, tu l’as
voulu!_” but I never contemplated so long a tour. We did mean to
go back by Holland, but have given that up. * * I am very, very,
home sick; however, if permitted to return in health and safety,
I shall do so with a deeply thankful heart, and I can also add,
with a heart still more attached to the friends I have so long
deserted. We have associated occasionally with some pleasant men
and women, and have occasionally travelled with them, but I have
not desired to form acquaintances. We have mounted the
Niederwald, and we visited the Brunnens. We liked Heidelberg
much; we were there five days. Chaude Fontaine we liked; but
Spa, Weisbaden, and Aix la Chapelle, I _hated_; they are sinks
of dissipation, gambling, and vice, and even English ladies game
there, at the public table and the public rooms, at all hours;
and nowhere, and by _none_, is the first day of the week kept
holy. True, the English as well as the Germans, go to church,
after the Lutherans and Catholics are come out of it; but _cela
suffit_.
We occasionally see an English newspaper, or rather,
_Galignani’s Messenger_, and are amused at O’Connell’s progress,
but alarmed at Spanish affairs. * * Farewell, till I return from
my walks, or find I cannot go. I hear the waters roaring most
invitingly. * * Just returned—the moon shewed herself _de temps
en temps_, but not enough; however, I dare say she is now
gilding the waters well; but I had no right, I thought, to keep
my poor guide out of his bed for my pleasure, so I came away,
having seen her rays sparkling on one side of the river, but I
doubt whether her beams would ever reach the fall so as to
convert it into diamonds; thus I console myself. Farewell, with
love to your circle; let my aunt, E. Alderson, know of this
letter from her vagrant, and as yet far distant, niece. I
thought of you all in the Bible week, and wished myself with
you. I shall write to my dear friends, the Sparshalls and
Willetts, and my beloved friends at Earlham and the Grove. I
hope J. Fletcher and wife are well, &c.
Thy truly attached friend,
A. OPIE.
From the Falls the journey was continued to Zurich, (“a noble lake, the
banks all studded with country houses and gardens,”) and Lucerne. Her
Journal continues:—
Arrived by twilight (on the 5th) at beautiful Lucerne! The Righi
was before us, unveiled almost all the way, and now we found him
on the banks of the lake, _as it seemed_; on either side were
snow mountains, in rows, one behind another, filling up the lake
in one place, so as to make it seem impassible by boat. The moon
was rising—the sun setting—a neck of green land covered with
flowers, was shooting into the lake, near where I was, and the
whole scenery was lovely beyond description. Our inn was eight
stories high! my room five, but then it commanded the lake and
its beauties, and I was never tired of looking out of my window.
From the balcony I saw the moon rolling its flood of light into
the bosom of the lake, the Righi in deep shadow, the snow hills
of a ghostly white, and the rays just catching on some of their
sharp peaks. (6th.) Mont Pilate, which rises just behind our
hotel, is the most beautifully outlined and grandest mountain I
have yet seen. We rowed on the lake to where the rocks and hills
formed a complete cross; four cantons at the end of the four
arms, Uri, Friburg, Unterwald, and Lucerne; the wooded rocks
come down straight into the lake, and the effect is fine, but
there is no walk on the banks, as at Zurich. Dined at the _table
d’hôte_, dinner excellent; in short this hotel both in rooms,
situation, attendance, and fare, is perfect. In the morning we
went to see the famous lion, sculptured in a rock near, from a
model by Thorwaldsen; the model is _exquisite_. We went then to
the fair, and were amused with the different costumes. In the
twilight we walked along the lake, and through the cloisters of
the church of the Jesuits, and lingered on the shore as long as
we could. (7th.) Saw the sun rise at six, behind the Righi,
from my window, and fill the lake below with crimson light; oh!
it was glorious; but so fleeting! It was beautiful to see the
mists rolling off the mountains. We were very sorry to come
away.
The next two days rain and mist prevailed, and the mountains were closed
in; no Jungfrau visible! At Berne, at the _table d’hôte_, Mrs. Opie
found herself placed beside a _marquise_, whom she supposed from her
accent must be English; “she said she was born English, but was the
widow of a French peer, the Marquis Lally Tollendal!” At length, on the
10th, the sun shone; it was Sunday, and after attending church, the
travellers walked on the ramparts, and saw a “piece of the Jungfrau, and
one or two snow hills, but no more.” On the 11th, weary of waiting, they
proceeded to Thun; but were still pursued by rain and mist. However, at
Interlachen, a gleam of sunshine lighted up the prospect, and they saw
the distant Alps “in beautiful and glorious succession—a scene never to
be forgotten.” On the 14th, Mrs. Opie was greatly distressed at reading
the announcement of Mrs. J. J. Gurney’s death, in Galignani. Of this
painful event she writes:—
A most afflicting and unexpected event! the death of my beloved
young friend, Mary, the wife of my dearest and best friend, J.
J. Gurney. I had learnt to love her dearly; by constant and
never-failing experience I knew the generosity of her heart, and
the openness of her hand in giving! Her will to do good, was
even greater than her power! To her husband she was the
heightener of his joys, the soother of his trials, the sharer,
and I may say assistant, of his literary labours; to his
children she was a most affectionate, kind, and judicious
mother; to me she was ever a kind, attentive friend, and I
looked forward to her as one of the comforts of my old age! but
she is gone before me, and has left a blank which cannot be
filled up. Alas! how many are mourning with me for her loss! but
it is my misery to deplore her alone in a foreign land!
deplore—I mean for the sake of others; for she, I can have no
doubt, is gone to glory! to that Redeemer through whom alone she
hoped for acceptance, and for the joys of the world to come!
Mrs. Opie ceased to make any entry in her Journal for many days after
this. She proceeded to Basle and Friburg, and thence to Strasburg and
Manheim, where she found letters that cheered and relieved her.
Here she enters in her note book:—
So thankful to be here! To-morrow I hope to be on the Rhine, and
my face turned towards home. May I not be disappointed! I hope
fearfully, and I trust humbly.
On the 22nd they were at Mayence; thence they went on board the boat.
She says:—
We went down into the handsome cabin, but were most civilly
requested to leave it, as it was engaged for the Princess of
Saxony. We went on board again, and I soon forgot even my
sorrow, in the lovely scenery around. On the deck I had a
flattering _rencontre_ with the Princess, who, attracted by my
singular dress, opened a conversation with me. At last she asked
my name; and when I said Amelia Opie, “Madame Opie,” she
exclaimed, “_quoi! auteur célèbre!_” and then she was kinder
still, had one of her own stools brought for me, and made me sit
beside her.
At Cologne she took her leave of the Rhine:—
I rose (she says) in the night to look at the river, &c., and
for the last time gazed on its beauty, from the spot where I
first saw it. How much had I undergone of trial, in many ways,
since I saw it last! I felt humbled, but resigned and contented,
and, I trust, _taught_.
On the 27th they reached Brussels, and the next day, Ghent. On the 1st
November the two friends parted at Lisle, and Mrs. Opie, travelling all
night, reached Calais, where she closes her Journal with the following
words:—
So ends my Journal of my journey; would it were a better record
of better things! But I am returned; _good things_ more endeared
to me than ever; and when I saw Calais to-day, and remembered
what I was when I first saw it, in 1802, I felt overwhelmed and
humbled with a sense of being richer, wiser, and happier, in one
sense, than I was then; for I had learned to know my Saviour,
and not as a teacher and a prophet only, but as the Redeemer, as
He who died that I might live, and through whose merits alone I
am to be saved. Glory be to the most High for this greatest of
all His mercies!
A. O., 2nd of 11th mo., 1835.