About 5 o’clock, says John Yeardley, we came in sight of the snow-capped Alps.  I saw them for some time through the trees, but the sun shone so bright that I did not for a moment imagine they were any other than clouds; but coming out from the wood I soon discovered my mistake; and a most majestic, sublime sight, indeed it is.

At Neufchatel they took a lodging a little way out of the town, by the lake, and remained there a month, receiving and making calls and holding meetings for worship at the houses of their friends, as Professor Petavel’s, ——­ Chatelain’s, and in their own rooms.  At the close of a day spent in this manner J.Y. says:—­

I feel this evening a degree of sweet peace, and a strong desire to become more united to my Saviour, who died that we might live.  When the mind is fixed on eternity, how little do all other things appear!  Lord, redeem me from the world, and grant me power to live for thee alone!—­(9 mo. 1.)

His observations on another similar occasion mark the religious state of the deeply interesting company in this place, amongst whom they went about in the liberty of the gospel.

9 mo. 24.—­In the afternoon had a long walk with our dear friend Petavel’s family, quite to the top of the mountains, from which we had the most delightful view possible.  In the evening we took tea with them; and, a few others coming in, we had a religious opportunity before parting.  It is extraordinary how great is the desire to hear the word in its simplicity; they love the simplicity of the gospel, but probably are not prepared, as yet, to hold silent meetings alone.  They all say it is remarkable we should be sent among them in this time of war in the land with the message of peace.

The little meeting which had been begun by Auguste Borel had been discontinued in consequence of his removal into the country.  He visited them, and they found him alive in the truth and full of affection as before.

Amongst a number of new acquaintances, one of the most interesting was a Polish Countess.  She lodged near them, with her husband and child, and sent to desire the liberty of calling on them.  Martha Yeardley had often longed to become acquainted with her; and she, as she told them afterwards, had felt so strongly inclined towards them when she met them on the promenade that she could not rest without seeking their acquaintance.

At the time fixed, say J. and M.Y., the Countess came alone, her husband being unwell, and asked a few questions respecting our views in travelling.  She is a Roman Catholic by profession, but has been brought up in great ignorance of her religion, and quite in the gaiety of the world.  She deeply lamented the state of her unhappy country, to which a fatality seemed to attach, and spoke of her own particular trials, having lost four of her children.  Whilst we were endeavoring to make her sensible of the mercies which are often hid under the most painful dispensations, an English missionary, who had been engaged in preaching to many of the Polish refugees in the country, came in with Professor Petavel.  They became much interested for the Countess, and in reply to some of her questions, the missionary explained the truths of the gospel in a clear and satisfactory way.  We rejoiced in the unexpected meeting; several others came in, and it proved a memorable visit.