How great a power this true Christian exercised upon others, I can judge from the following little occurrence.
One day I was walking with Mr. B. through the streets of Boston, and as we passed one house, he bowed his head reverentially as he said, “That is a house which for several years I never approached without feelings of the most heartfelt reverence and love. There dwelt Dr. Channing!”
As regards my own private friends, I do not trouble myself in the least to what religious sect they belong—Trinitarians or Unitarians, Calvinists or Baptists, or whatever it may be—but merely that they are noble and worthy to be loved. Here also are many people, who without belonging to any distinct church, attend any one where there is a good preacher, and for the rest, live according to the great truths which Christianity utters, and which they receive into their hearts. Some of my best friends in this country belong to the invisible church of God.
February 19th.—What beautiful days! Three days of the most delicious spring weather. And this luxurious blue heaven, and this air, so pure, so spiritually full of life, and as it were so intoxicating. I have not felt any thing like it! I become as it were permeated by it. I have been so well these last days, have felt such a flood of fresh life in me that it has made me quite happy and childish enough to feel a desire to tell everybody so, and to bid them rejoice with me. I know that many would do so; and I know that I myself should be glad to know some one who having suffered as I have done, now feel as I do. In my joy I compelled my little allopathic doctor, Miss H., to thank God for the progress which I and the homœopathic doctor had made. And she did so with all her heart. She has a heart as good as gold.
I have, these beautiful days, enjoyed the weather and my walks, and the company of agreeable people, and —
