Bristol

Dear Charley:—

We have been here with the doctor's friends for several days, and had a most delightful time. Nothing can be more kind than their attentions to us; and the young men—I wish you knew them—have been constantly doing every thing in their power to make our visit here agreeable.

We were glad to find Mr. W—— recovering from his accident; and as the family were at Western Super Mare, a watering-place about seven miles off, for his health, we went and passed a couple of days with them. This place is on the banks of the Bristol Channel; the air is thought to be the finest on the western coast of England, and is, we thought, very much like our Newport air. When the tide is in the scenery is pretty, and the Welsh hills; at sunset are beautiful. Off in the Bristol Channel are two islands, called the Flat and Steep Holmes.

The houses here are neat, and the best are lodging-houses. Some of the rows are very pretty, and are sufficiently cosy to accommodate small families.

The true way to enjoy the seaside is to have your own snug quarters. Here the people are wise enough to build close to the sea, and rows of houses are found all round the bay.

We had a charming ride to a lofty hill, about two miles off, and the prospect was very fine.

Here, as on the continent, we found large numbers of donkeys, with drivers, and ladies use them in their little excursions; and many of them are attached to Bath chairs, a small gig, and a very comfortable conveyance, too, as we proved. The vehicle is made for one person.

I cannot say much for the bathing, which is greatly admired here, but was far too muddy for our taste, after an acquaintance with the noble beach at home.

The museum of the Baptist College in Bristol is very fine, and the library is large and one of great value. The collection of Bibles is the best in the kingdom, and here is the only copy of Tindal's New Testament. The miniature of Oliver Cromwell, by Cooper, is valuable, and has been often engraved.

We have several times attended worship at a very beautiful Gothic chapel at Bristol, called Highbury Chapel. It is a perfect gem, built in the Gothic style of the fifteenth century. The edifice is of stone, the roof and wood-work of oak, the pulpit freestone, and over it is a fine painted window. It is one of the prettiest churches we have seen in England; and what gives great interest to the building is the fact that it stands upon the spot where five martyrs were burnt, in the days of Popery, when Queen Mary was on the throne. This burning of Protestants only happens when Catholics have power; they do not advocate the measure in America, although their boast is that their system knows no change. Inquisitions and martyrs' fires are the adult growth of Popery. If I wanted to know how liberal institutions worked, I would look at them where they were established and flourished without hinderance; and if I wanted to know what Popery is, I would go and look at it in its proper territories—Spain, Italy, and Austria. There Popery is intolerant. In France the wings of Romanism are clipped; and if the patronage of the state were withdrawn, as very likely it may before long, the crumbling edifice would fall.

The Rev. Mr. Thomas, the pastor of Highbury Chapel, is a man of superior intellect, and we heard a very fine sermon from him.

I never was in a place where there are so many local charities as I find at Bristol. Every ailment of man seems here to be provided with its needed cure; and as for orphan asylums and refuges for the aged, blind, strangers, &c., they are every where to be found. The Infirmary is a noble institution, and always has two hundred patients in the wards; two thousand were received last year, and eight thousand out-door cases received treatment. A refuge for the houseless poor, opened in winter at eight o'clock, and supported by subscription, has been very useful. I think there are at least thirty different almshouses for the aged and indigent of both sexes; and some of these places are as neat as any thing can be, as to their accommodation.

We like Bristol—its fine old houses, its streets, that tell so plainly of other days, its beautiful environs, and its generous citizens. I wish you could see the prospect from the drawing-room window at a house where we have often visited, and always with pleasure. The house stands on a very high hill; the drawing-room has a large bay window, and outside a balcony. You look down into a charming garden, with fine trees and fountains,—the ground being on a great declivity, I should think a slope of fifty degrees,—and then from the balcony you have the entire city laid out before you, down, down in the valley; while before you, and on either hand, stretch away the hills which adorn this noble city. The towers and steeples of the glorious old churches make the prospect, of a fine, clear summer evening, one never to be forgotten. Go where I may, that room, and the kind faces of those who meet in it will often rise in memory.

I have never had my feelings so enlisted by strangers as at Bristol; and we all feel quite at home here.

We are to go off to-morrow on an excursion to Monmouthshire, and see Chepstow, Tintern Abbey, and Ragland Castle, and expect that this last of our wanderings will be very gratifying.

I have not told you how much we have enjoyed the fruit in England and on the continent. Cherries and strawberries have been daily on our tables, and of the best kinds. I do not think we ever enjoyed a fruit season so much as this summer. In this humid climate the strawberry grows to an immense size; and the gooseberry, which is here in high favor, is a far finer fruit than with us.

Yours affectionately,

james.