Filled with those
vast waves and undulations, the immense edifice seemed a creature,
tremulous with a life, a soul, an instinct of its own; and out of its
deepest heart there seemed to struggle upward breathings of
unutterable emotion.
LETTER XLII.
COLOGNE, 10 o'clock, Hotel Bellevue.
DEAR:--
The great old city is before me, looming up across the Rhine, which
lies spread out like a molten looking glass, all quivering and
wavering, reflecting the thousand lights of the city. We have been on
the Rhine all day, gliding among its picture-like scenes. But, alas I
I had a headache; the boat was crowded; one and all smoked tobacco;
and in vain, under such circumstances, do we see that nature is fair.
It is not enough to open one's eyes on scenes; one must be able to be
_en rapport_ with them. Just so in the spiritual world, we
sometimes _see_ great truths,--see that God is beautiful,
glorious, and surpassingly lovely; but at other times we feel both
nature and God, and 0, how different _seeing_ and _feeling!_
To say the truth, I have been quite homesick to-day, and leaning my
head on the rails, pondered an immediate flight, a giving up of all
engagements on the continent and in England, an immediate rush
homeward.
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