Morning warm but at noon the wind changed and brought with it a very cool and refreshing shower. I had just seated myself to pursue my morning avocations when Deacon Spear came up to inquire if I would accompany my father to see the course of a new road through his land, as laid out by the Commissioners. This passion for new Roads is one of the fancies of the times, occasionally doing good but more often wasting money. I think this is the case here.

We returned at twelve, and I passed the remainder of the time before dinner in correcting MS and filling up an omission. After dinner, I finished the Panegyric of Trajan and with it the works of Pliny. As a book it has interest from it’s date, but the gratification from reading it is not the same derived from the works of Cicero or any of the classical writers. His mind is artificial and his style rhetorical. His letters are compositions as much as his oration. Nothing further of interest. Evening at the Mansion.