Morning fine at last, though uncommonly cool for the season. After an hour’s progress in Aeschines, I went to the Office and having no particular occupation to distract me, I did pretty well in my study of Montesquieu. I find many more questionable propositions than I thought. But the fund of actual thought contained in this Author is prodigious. He is one of the few writers who does understand the relative value of thoughts and words, therefore he uses none of the latter which do not correspond to something he has of the former.

I went home early today as this was an opportunity, the first good one I have had for some time, of going to Quincy. After an early dinner, I started with my Man, Benjamin, and we were very busy all day in working upon different parts of the Garden. I first cleared away the rose bushes in front of the House and then commenced the very necessary work of transplanting some of the English Oaks and the Elms which had been suffered to grow in the Nursery ever since I set them there. My only difficulty was to find place to put them, our limits being rather scanty. I again tried the drying ground being the third effort. We accomplished a good deal though not all I wished. We were busy until dark, when I got in my Gig and drove to the Judge’s to accomplish my business there. Sorry to find Miss Abby quite ill and discouraged. But I could not stay to console her, so drove home to Boston, which I barely reached by nine o’clock. Fatigued, so that I 28accomplished little in Ross, and began the second Volume of the Spectator.