* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * He was a pretty-spoken _genteel_ youth enough: he drank tea with us, and offered to ride with me. He is, it seems, a great fortune; consequently, I suppose (in spite of his inches), a great man. Now I'll go to bed: my cough's enough to kill a horse. _Sunday, 14th._ Rose late; so late that, by the time I had breakfasted, it was no longer time to go to church. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Finished my first letter to ----. Mr. ---- called, and told us that he was going about _agitating_, and that Jackson was certainly to be re-elected. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * At three o'clock D---- and I sallied forth to go to church. Following the silver voices of the Sabbath bells, as they called the worshippers to the house of prayer, we entered a church with a fine simple façade, and found ourselves in the midst of a Presbyterian congregation. 'Tis now upwards of eight years since, a school girl, I used to attend a dissenters' chapel. The form of worship, though displeasing to me in itself, borrowed a charm to-day from old association. How much of the past it did recall! * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Came home and dressed for dinner. After dinner, half-killed myself with laughter over an Irish version of Fazio, ycleped Grimaldi, from which the author swears Milman has shamefully filched the plot, characters, and even the language, I believe, of his drama. A gentleman of the press, by name ----, paid us an evening visit. He seems an intelligent young man enough; and when he spoke of the autumnal woods, by the Oneida lake, his expressions were poetical and enthusiastic; and he pleased me.[40] He seems to think much of having had the honour of corresponding with sundry of the small literati of London. _Je lui en fais mon compliment._ When he was gone, wrote another letter to ----; journal, and now to bed. _Monday, 15th._