Morning mild, damp but warm. We attended Divine Service all day and heard a certain Mr. Gannet of Cambridge preach, a man whom I had heard once before and who is certainly infinitely dull.1 He dined with us, and gave us a good specimen of a pious, sincere, perhaps really good Clergyman with little or no head, and a face which was not very favourable. Mrs. Everett came down and I saw her today for the first time, since her confinement and the additional honor of her son. She looked quite well. But from some cause or other, 250I have lost my desire to cultivate her acquaintance, and indeed, the general apathy and stupidity of my present manner, begin to strike me. I am much altered since my marriage. The gravity and seriousness of my pursuits, and the cares of life now weigh sensibly, so that my friend Richardson’s remark the other day, is true.

Short walk and conversation with Mr. Brooks about his place, which now looks exceedingly well. It has much beauty and infinite capability. I should envy it if I allowed myself to do so. Mr. Swan, a gentleman living in New York called in the evening and it was passed in common conversation.