to me. The flower which had long been in bud within me, has here blown—I know not how. Probably like other flowers, by God's light in connection with the impelling force of natural growth. How can it be otherwise?—that which I sought to know I have now found; and of this I will speak more particularly another time. But that which I would here exclaim to all seeking and thirsting souls, is:
Have no mistrust! Brother, sister, thy thirst, thy seeking, are prophetic. They testify of the fountain; and they will, sooner or later, lead thee on to it, and give refreshment and peace to thy soul.
Whilst yet very young, I wrote, on one of the few occasions when I gave vent in words to an overflowing but as yet unenlightened soul:
“O thou consuming flame of my silent nights and restless days! what wouldst thou with me? There are moments in which thou illuminest eternities, others in which thou merely burnest and tormentest me.”
I am now become old, and I still feel the flame there, as formerly, but it no longer burns and torments me. God first kindled it. It has been fed by Him and He has allowed it to become for me a silent, guiding light,—an eye for His sun. He has changed my unrest into rest. I have thanked God for the gift of life.
In the shelter of the peaceful home, which is one
of the most beautiful flowers of the Swiss soil, I will
cast a last glance upon the state of the Confederacy,
and ask:
