After mentioning some visitors in March 1844, he writes--"Dickens's Christmas Carol really a treat, a thoroughly wholesome book." On the 8th April he was present at the lunch given to the children of the Episcopal poor in the Old Town. "This, I trust, is the commencement of a scheme to bring some actually poor into our church. I made a speech, and, to my astonishment, rather a good one." After a pretty long tour in the south of England he comes home in August 1844, and notes a letter from the Bishop of London, containing the offer of the Bishopric of New Brunswick, in a handsome and gratifying manner. "I think I was right to refuse. May God forgive me if it was an improper shrinking from duty." October 14, 1844: "I have now brought up this record of my life's transactions to the present time, and my purpose is, in future journalising, to take the leading points, to notice subjects only, painful, joyful, or difficult. All my thoughts since the offer of the New Brunswick mitre have confirmed the correctness of my judgment." October 17, 1844: "I am trying to repeat the experiment of last week, and write my sermon over again. I see clearly that in such work we cannot take too much pains: dinner at Lord Medwyn's to-day--very pleasant--rather an exception this to dinners: how dull the routine! October 22: succeeded in my resolution of rewriting the whole of my sermon, and found the advantage; in fact, nothing in the way of public speaking can be done without a thorough preparation. How high parties are running! It has a sad effect on my mind; but my refuge must be in keeping off controversy and adhering to edifying and practical subjects." In the same month he records the death of a dear friend, whom he visited on his deathbed. "Nothing," he says, "could be more satisfactory than his state of mind;" the Dean lost a kind Christian, attached and delightful friend. "I was glad to be able to answer his scruples and fears about being an object of Christ's mercy and pardon." December 11, 1844, he lost his mother--"simple-minded," he says, "as a child. Oh! what a break of the family circle! It seems as if the last link which bound us together were broken, and a point vanished round which we could always rally. I went with Lauderdale to see the poor remains, so attenuated, and yet the countenance like itself, still beautiful, and fine features." The funeral made the Dean very sad. She was followed to the grave by two sons, a son-in-law, two grandsons and distant cousins. Mr. Alison read the service, and she was buried beside her old friend of fifty years--poor Mrs. Macdonald.