The weather has become warm again, with a southerly wind, and today it rained for two or three hours. I attended Divine service with Brooks, at the Cathedral. The Attendance was very full. The interior is fine without being as lofty and impressive as others. The usual service, and a sermon by the Canon, Mr McNiel, which was more remarkable for the manner of delivery than for the matter. The subject, the familiar one of the law and grace. The argument that there was no medium between the two. To adopt the law was infallible destruction as the sinful nature of man rendered his performance of the conditions wholly impossible. He must fail and suffer the penalty of failure. The alternative was to accept the offer of grace given through the act of the Savior, and throw ones self implicitly on the mercy of God. The reasoning is as old as the Church. But the manner of presenting it was simple, clear, forcible and at the close eloquent and impressive. I have not often had occasion to say as much of any preacher of the Anglican church. The presence of the man which was dignified contributed to heighten the effect. In the afternoon I drove with my wife in a carriage to show her all the principal points of the old town. We went to each of the gates, and observed the curious old fashioned dwellings—after which we left the carriage and walked about half the way around the city on the old wall. At one of the angles we came to a tower on which is an inscription to the effect that about 219 years ago Charles the first from this point saw his army defeated on Rowton Moor. Yet the English now shrug their shoulders in affected horror at our civil war! On the whole the place may be said to be unique even in Europe—but, as a residence, it scarcely could be regarded by the most ardent antiquarian as attractive.