A very fine day, quite suitable to the Anniversary which it commemorates. I went to the Office as usual, and passed it as I do every day. Festivities in this place are rarely observed and the National feeling which leads to them is not strong. Dinner giving is not my way of recurring to the past, for this leads to long speeches and tiresome toasts. I think balls much pleasanter.

Deacon Spear came in from Quincy and made report of his proceedings respecting the materials for my House at Quincy. He seems to be the only person who has any thing like business talent in the town. I therefore give him my instructions more generally than I should otherwise do.

Home, where I began reading Homer’s Iliad. I wish to make this an improving study, and for this purpose shall proceed very slowly in order to give time for a general Review of the Greek Grammar.1 I am afraid I undertake too many things to be very well perfected in any. Afternoon, Burnet with whose book I make way. He is an old woman in his stories, and loves scandal of others almost as much as he loves himself. Afterwards, Forster whose only trouble is being too lengthy. Evening, my Wife and I, to Mr. and Mrs. I. Sargent’s. We had intended to play Whist but were disappointed, and had a dull evening. Home.