Fine morning. I went to Boston. Very busy all the time in finishing my Account. I accomplished it however and sent with it a short letter.1 My father is so much engaged now that he will probably look at it a moment and then put it on file forever. I had one or two short interruptions of different kinds. Deacon Spear called to receive the Money for the new Church that is building.2 On the whole I worked faithfully. Mr. Child came about the Boylston Market. A Meeting of 322Directors this afternoon. I felt unable to attend so I asked him to make my excuses. Returned to Quincy.

Read in the Afternoon, the book of Consolation to Polybius. It shows Seneca under the torture of exile, abandoning his philosophy and his self-respect. Stooping to flatter without minding the terms. It has been thought that this is not a genuine work, but I think from the internal evidence that it is. Some passages of it are admirable if generally applied. Evening, I walked up to call upon Mr. Miller who was again not at home and then passed an hour at Mrs. Adams’s.