Yet it is not this feeling alone which gives me here calmness and, as it were, wings, but another which I well understand, and which is common to all alike as to me. For whoever when alone in the world, or in heart, can from his heart say—Our Father! Mine and all men's! To him will be given rest and strength, sufficient and immortal, merely through this consciousness.
Out of the chaotic group of human countenances, which at first met my eyes here, a few figures have come nearer to me, and have acquired an interest for me through glances, expression or words. Among these is a tall respectable clergyman from New York, by name John Knox; and who seems to me to have a little of the historical Knox-nature of stern Puritanism, although united to much benevolence. Besides him, a family from New York, also, consisting of an old lady, the mother, with her daughter and son-in-law—a handsome young couple, who have for their bridal-tour visited, during eleven months, Egypt, Greece, Italy, France, etc., without having, in the first instance, seen Niagara, or any of the natural wonders of their own country, which I do not quite forgive in them. They are now on their return, the old lady having gained the knowledge “that all human nature is very much alike throughout the world.” This family, as well as Mr. Knox, are Presbyterian, and will not concede that Unitarians are Christians.
There is also a couple of young ladies from Georgia. One of them a handsome, married lady; the other a very pale young girl with delicate features, Hanna L——, clever, sensible, and charming, with whom it is a pleasure for me to converse. Although belonging to a slave-holding family, she condemns slavery, and labours at home to make the slaves better and happier. She is consumptive, and does not expect to live long; but goes forward to meet death with the most contented mind.
