Fine day. I rode to town accompanied by my brother. Time taken up in my usual variety of ways. I went first to my House where I found the Painter had set his men to work in earnest. The day is exceedingly favourable. Finding they needed no further overseeing I went away. At my Office a Note sent me down all the way to 135 Ann Street after a pump maker to repair 105 Tremont Street, and from thence I went to the Athenaeum for the purpose of obtaining one or two volumes.

Hearing that Mr. Sergeant of Philadelphia was here, my brother and I concluded that it would be proper to call.1 We found him at home, as well as Mrs. and two Miss Sergeants. He looks somewhat altered in his face during the six years since I have seen him. He said the same of me. After sitting fifteen minutes, we started off on our road homeward.

Afternoon, an Eclogue of Virgil, my Diary and copying. It was interrupted somewhat early by a summons to get ready to attend the Wedding of Miss Caroline L. Whitney the daughter of the Minister of our Parish married to a Mr. Charles Hill of Roxbury. Most of the people of Quincy were there. One or two pretty faces, but it was extremely dull to me at least. I have learnt to look upon these things as the taxes we pay to Society, and therefore submit to them patiently. Return at nine.