116 ST. JOHN S CHAPEL.
duced two forcible quotations, the closing one of which was from Robert Hall : " How bitter to think and to feel, when thought and feeling are agony, to shrink from the relentless tempest, and find all shelter hope less ; how fearful to have committed a mistake which is both infinite and irreparable, a mistake which it will take an eternity to deplore, an eternity to compre hend."
At St. John s Chapel, we heard, with pleasure, the Dean of Edinburgh, and admired a large window of stained glass, in whose gorgeous colors the twelve apos tles were depicted. But to particularize the objects that delighted us would require a separate volume. Scotland illustrates in this, her favorite city, both her intellectual riches and the frankness with which she receives the stranger into her heart of hearts.
Towards me, the last named amiable feeling was deepened, by sudden illness, into Christian sympathy. An affection of the throat, almost amounting to croup, was occasioned by climbing Salisbury s Cliff, in a wind strong enough to have swept less material objects into the Frith of Forth. The care, the nursing-kindness then so tenderly exercised for me, can never be forgot ten. Nor was it without surprise, that I, who had pertinaciously maintained a sort of concealed home sickness amid all outward delights, found my eyes blinded with tears, at bidding farewell to Edinburgh.
Fair Queen of Caledon, thou sitt st Majestic and alone,