I remained at Quincy all day today. Read a part of Juvenal’s sixth Satire which is too disgusting to be borne. The vices of the world appear to have reached their maximum during the times of the Roman empire. And it is mortifying to man to see how his species can in the plenitude of power degrade and disgrace itself. I do not admire to read the ingenuity of woman in making herself a beast, and worse, for animals are content with natural enjoyments.

The morning mail brought nothing but an account of a call for an Antimasonic Convention which is a new measure and must have been suggested by some new move on the political counter. Can it be that Mr. Everett withdraws his acceptance of their nomination? We shall see. I suppose I shall be nominated to attend this, and to influence its results. We shall see. Nothing new.

I was taken up very much in assorting papers which I this day derive some courage from. The process of winnowing the Wheat from the Chaff now begins to show for something. If I can get out much of the valuable matter, there will be some return for my expense of time. My father manifests utter apathy to it as he does to every thing else. He looks unwell, and spends his time upon hobbies rather than useful plans.

Evening, there was a great fire visible in the direction of Boston. I went upon the hill in front of the House and looked at it. The sight was sublime enough. The red light was set in a dark cloud which gave a 204haze in which the fire was reflected far and wide. We learn it is the town of Charlestown.1 I read a little of Theodor.