This year was published “Valentine’s Eve,” a tale in three volumes, interesting as shewing the state of her religious feelings at the time it was written. The lesson it inculcates is the superiority of religious principle as a rule of action, and as a support under affliction and unmerited calumny. The heroine of the story, pronouncing her conviction that “moral virtues are only durable and precious as they are derived from religious belief and the consequence of it,” says,
Some suppose that morality can stand alone without the aid of religion, and even fancy that republican firmness will enable us to bear affliction; but I feel that the only refuge in sorrow and in trial, is the Rock of Ages, and the promises of the gospel.
In 1817 Mrs. Opie made an excursion into Sussex, and among other friends, visited Mr. Hayley. In consequence, she says, of this gentleman’s flattering mention of her in the twelfth edition of his “Triumphs of Temper,” she went on a visit to his house, in the year 1814; and in his “Life,” by Dr. Johnson, there is a short sketch, from her pen, of the manner in which they passed their time, during that and subsequent visits she paid him. “In 1816,” (writes Mrs. O.) “I went to Scotland, and did not see Eartham till 1817. I then found Mr. Hayley was become fond of seeing occasional visitors; but, for the most part, our life was as unvaried as it had been in my former visits to him.” She corresponded with him after leaving him, and fulfilled the promise she had made, to send him her portrait. He acknowledged the receipt of this picture, in a letter, from which we give an extract.
* * * * I rejoice that a petty incident prevented my letter from beginning its travels yesterday; for, in the evening, the eagerly expected portrait arrived: a fine head nobly painted in the gusto grande!
After assigning to it, this early morn, its proper station, in an excellent light, your paternal hermit burst into the following extempore benedictions, in contemplating his carissima figlia.
Thy portrait, dear Amelia, in my sight,
My eyes are charmed with beauty’s blooming flower;
But when thy books my sympathy excite,
I feel thy genius, the sublimer power;
Pleased, of thy various charms to bless the whole,