A mild day. As my son Brooks was at home, we made one of our customary visits to the city to attend church. My design was to get to St Dunstan’s in the East. But I missed my way and at last stopped at a small modern church called St Mark’s. The service much as usual. The attendance quite large, being composed for the most part of young people of the middle classes. On my return I discovered that I had got far beyond any former range of the town’s limits. I was close to Shoreditch, and Hoxton and Hackney. Not being sure of my direction I walked along the Hackney road until I came to Behnal Green. Turning thence to the Westward we came to the White chapel road and so came back through the city. All this region was new to me, so that my excursion was not wholly profitless. It is however a dull and dreary part of the town, composed of mean rows of small brick houses and dirty streets. I have no curiosity to see it again. The whole interest in the place seems confined to the limits of the city and of Westminster. There is not much on the Sunny side of the river. When I got home I found Mr Sanford who stopped some time to talk about the state of affairs here. The prospect is certainly pretty dark at present. The disposition of the Emperor is malignant. That of the aristocracy here is worse. At home we are afflicted with an incompetent President, and insufficient military leaders. And yet the people have for two years made brave headway against all these difficulties, and they will yet see their way through them I have a deep settled trust that the Divine providence will bring out great results to the world from this tribulation. I spent the rest of the day401 in reading the news from home. We are evidently in another critical moment of the war. The rebels have once more put themselves into our hands. Shall we know how to profit of our opportunity, or let it slip again as before? I dare not give a reply. Mr Forbes dined and spent the evening with us.