Fine morning though still an East wind. I went to the Office but instead of remaining there, called upon Mr. Walsh and with him I went over to Chelsea in the Ferry boat. There has of late years been a very great disposition to go out a little way into the Country and cut up the great farms for the sake of making out of them numbers of building lots. The success which has attended late speculations of the kind has induced others, so that now there is hardly a spot in the vicinity which is not used. Among others is Chelsea upon which some of the Perkins family have made a settlement.

I yesterday spoke to Mr. C. Coolidge about a plan, for my proposed house.1 He asked me to go over to Chelsea and see one drawn for W. H. Gardiner which is there executing. Accordingly I went. There were two, one small and one larger one. They are in Mr. Coolidge’s style with sloping roofs, and dormer windows with porticoes all round. I could see hardly a single recommendation to them. I begin to think Coolidge’s taste more doubtful. His contrivance is unequalled.

We returned home by way of East Boston. All this is new creation. 402It is cheerful to see such evidences of prosperity here. We only hope it is not most of it on an artificial basis and that time will not show us that speculation is a very dangerous basis to build our calculations upon.

Home, Livy, finished 23d book and read in Hook’s tome,2 an extract from Sir Walter Raleigh demolishing the edifice of national partiality the roman historian has erected. Afternoon, began Burnetts Memoir of his own time,3 a thing I once attempted and failed. Also finished a letter to my Mother.4 A canto of Ariosto. Evening, a few of Spence’s Anecdotes of Pope5 and a couple of Swift’s Drapier’s Letters.