[Boston—Sunday, 19 January 1868]

19th Marvellous winter weather—day after day we awoke in the morning to see the sunlight burning like stars on the opposite shore and opal tints overlaying the bay “sits like a star upon the sparkling shire”. Today Sunday we have been at church suffering a good deal for the sake of our dear “Brother Bartol” rather than for ourselves because of a most puling and inadequate discourse too long by half since there was so little for him to say. There is no use in keeping up this formality of church going without there is to be a good deal of feeling behind it. I know societies are good for the sake of union in benevolent schemes but when it comes to making the preacher a figure to be worshipped—faugh!

Am reading Dickens’s Uncommercial Traveller papers with wonderful zest. There’s humanity for you! There’s work for you! Lead on, let us follow!

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