The morning was bright and fine but far colder than it has been for a long time. The weather becoming more in the character of the Climate. After breakfast we had all the members of the family out here excepting Mr. Frothingham and Mrs. P. C. Brooks. This is in compliance with an invariable custom in this Country of offering Prayers upon the Sunday succeeding the death of a person.1 We accordingly all went to Meeting and heard Mr. Stetson deliver a Prayer and a Sermon on the subject which might have been in better taste if they had been shorter and less laboriously drawn. On the whole the effect was unsatisfactory. It did not seem to put the thing in the right light.

We returned home and dined after which we again went and heard an account of the Clergyman’s experiences during three years in which he had been settled. This was perhaps well calculated for his people, but to strangers it was nothing. At the same time, I could not help being fully convinced that the labour of a Clergyman was rather unsatisfactory, and difficult, to please is difficult in every situation, particularly where dependance creates a necessity to do so. After tea the expedition from Boston returned home. And we had the Company first of Mr. Stetson, and then of Mr. Hall and Dr. Swan. They talked something of Medford affairs not over interesting to me. But I got along as well as I could. I pity Mr. Brooks considerably, but cannot help thinking it a sacrifice for me to do what I am doing.