Morning cold and cloudy. A few flakes of snow and some hail announced to us the rapid march of the Winter. I was engaged in the morning in making up my Diary and writing the unusually long Record of yesterday.

Attended divine Service and heard Mr. B. Whitney of Hingham. His morning discourse was upon the performance of duty — “She did what she could,” that is ability to do the method of testing actual performance. The afternoon was upon the parable of the prodigal son. The preacher dined with us and so did Mr. Degrand who came out of Boston to spend the day. I read a Sermon of Mr. Balguy’s upon the love of Enemies — The same general characteristic of strong sense unadorned and unpretending.

Mr. Degrand remained part of the evening and the rest was spent in conversation. I read Lingard — His account of the wars of the Roses.