Morning cold and gloomy. We doubted a considerable time as to the expediency of going to Medford and finally hit upon that side of the alternative which was certainly the least prudent. But as our departure was deferred until eleven o’clock I passed two hours in examining and re-arranging my observations upon the American History. Having done this, I began reading Chalmers regularly in order to see what was to be said in addition of him. This book is the most violent misinterpretation of American facts that I have seen and that probably exists. The time came to go and we had a very uncomfortable ride indeed.

Arrived, and found at dinner with us, Mr. Walker, the Clergyman of Charlestown. He was quite pleasant, and in the afternoon I went to hear him. The Sermons he preaches are peculiar for the closeness of the reasoning and the simple texture of the style. He assumes a point and brings it forward in all it’s shapes. His subject this day was happiness as an object. He touched very well upon the general weakness of man in not looking for happiness, but he did not very distinctly illustrate what he meant by the term. His moral was too short. But on the whole, there are few preachers whom I prefer to hear before Mr. Walker. The remainder of the day was passed in looking into Mather’s Magnalia a copy of which Mr. Brooks has,1 in order to look for the authorities for certain statements in Graham which I found generally correct. The book is a curiosity inasmuch as it is a strange specimen of a mind regulated with little judgment, and blunted by entertaining a too great multiplicity of objects, so that the leading ones 221are huddled with the indifferent and worthless without much discrimination.