Beautiful weather. My father and mother are much favoured. Attended divine Service all day at the Church in Chauncy Place. Heard Mr. Frothingham, but my habit of inattention at Quincy has fixed upon me so much that I have all the old ground to go over again. My feelings were so bad also that I did nothing with zeal—A regular day of indigestion and suffering. Yet I took a long walk too.

Read a Sermon of Massillon’s upon the immutability of the Law of God. Text from John 8. 46. “If I say the truth, why do ye not believe me.” He considers three objections commonly made to the practice of Christianity. One drawn from the mutable nature of human affairs, one from the inequality of ranks in society, and one from peculiar contingencies and positions. To all he makes the same reply. Truth is eternal. The necessity of forming the invariable division of his Sermon drives him to repeat his idea in three distinct dresses. The first is the general position, the third is the particular position, and they both involve the second. I did little else.

In the evening read several of Marmontel’s Nouveaux Contes Moraux. His style is charming. What could I do better than try to imitate it? I will attempt it, and take le trepied d’Helene for my first attempt. My labour was paralyzed by a head ach.