This is the first very fine day we have had for some time. I did not go to town. But my time was taken up not unprofitably. I read several of the Epodes of Horace, one Chapter of Neale’s Account of the Puritans and made some progress in Hutchinson’s History, Volume the third, which I read over carefully—My former perusal having been a tolerably negligent one.1 How many books, we skim over in this way with little better than complete waste of time.

I took a note of the Account of the meeting at Albany in 1754 and Franklin’s project of a union. This is one of the dates. It is a little singular that Government originated the idea, but that neither this, nor the separate Colonies at all favoured the mature project. Here is the same feeling that has been at work with us for so many years and is now.

Afternoon walk to Mount Wollaston and examine the Orchard. It has survived the effect of the winter before last, but it bears the scars of the Struggle. I sat down and looked at the scene. A more beautiful prospect is seldom to be found. Mused most philosophically. Evening, the ladies having gone to tea at Mrs. Adams’ my father and I walked up for an hour. Mr. and Mrs. Angier and Mr. Edward Miller2 were there.