A clear and tolerably fine day. I read a little of Humboldt, finishing the first volume of his first work. I admire the spirit in which he writes. That of observation with a view to improvement.

Attended divine service and heard Mr. Kendall of Plymouth in the morning from 2. Peter 1. 16. “For we have not followed cunningly devised fables, when we made known unto you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but were eye-witnesses of his majesty.” Afternoon from 72. Psalm 6. “He shall come down like rain upon the mown grass, as showers that water the earth.” I gathered very little from these discourses. Mr. Kendall is of the old class of the clergy, contemporaries of Mr. Whitney, more remarkable for dullness than any thing else.

He dined with us, and just before dinner, my mother with all the rest of the family arrived. This was somewhat unexpected to us as we had got no notice of it, however we were pleased to see them all looking so well after their Journey.

Read a sermon of Sterne upon Self examination. Isaiah 1. 3. “The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass, his master’s crib, but Israel doth not know, my people doth not consider.” The common mistakes of men in judging themselves, either from a false Standard, or from a partial view. Sterne has a pretty talent in showing forth one or two common foibles of human nature, but he rarely goes deep.

Evening, walk with my father to Mr. Quincy’s—himself his Wife 264and her aunt. Conversation took a religious turn and my father would have remained until midnight if I had not roused him. As it was, we reached home after ten.