[Gorham—Sunday, 7 July 1867]

Sunday in Gorham was delightful overhead and on the earth from dawn to after sunset. A strong west wind was blowing so fiercely that it was as much as I could do to get to the little church with hat and raincoat. We thought it was as well to give our first testimony of interest by going to the church but we were shocked to see almost no congregation and to hear a lifeless young preacher. He was one of those uncertain speakers who appeared conscious of every word as it came from his mouth whether he was praying or reading or rendering his mss. and as if the words seemed to him so exceedingly unsatisfactory on the whole that he would like to take them all back and try again.

Drove in the afternoon towards Bethal—the valley was as beautiful as I have ever seen it. We crossed the Lead Mine Bridge and paused where the whole range of mountains could be seen, just where Mr King took us one afternoon and almost threw himself into the water in his ecstasy.


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