The morning opened clear and cold—The weather of that bracing kind which promises health and not suffering. We went to Meeting all day and heard in the morning Mr. Walker of Charlestown,1 in the afternoon, Mr. Emerson.2 Their Sermons were neither of them first rate, not even so good as their’s are generally, but nevertheless there is a fine tone of masculine feeling in them which denotes a considerable advancement in the tone of the pulpit. It is that which I most complain of in Mr. Frothingham that he is deficient in this very tone. Mr. Walker leads too much the Church Militant, he is rather over disposed to talk at the powers of others, and their doctrines, and their authority, as if he was jealous of it, but he is still a strong powerful 103preacher and among the best with us. Mr. Emerson has talent and manner which with us is more rare, but his health is indifferent and he has none of the greater powers of the Orator.

I passed part of the day in reading a Discourse of Jeremy Taylor upon the nativity of Jesus Christ. There is wonderful vigour in the style of this man, and though he has faults arising from obscurity of expression and perhaps pedantic language, yet these are trifles compared to his force and the wonderful beauty of his ideas. I also wrote a letter to my Mother3 due long since, and on the whole did better than I expected. My ideas flow easily in letters, but they will not elsewhere. In the one, the careless writing is all natural, in the other it imposes restraint. The remainder of the evening was passed in reading the old Journal of my Grandfather when but a young man of twenty one or two years old.4 It seems to have been nothing but an exercise, to express ideas which in his mind were worthy of it, and on the whole it is admirable. His account of his Writ is also very good.5 How very similarly have I felt at times and particularly now when my trustee process plagues me. It took me all the evening.

Morning at the Office. Time passed rapidly and yet I did but little. Went to the State Bank and got three Shares of the Stock belonging 104to George formerly, transferred to me for which I pay par, making in all ten Shares belonging to me in that Institution, where I propose to stop.1 The Dividends are now so small there that I feel in some measure indisposed to set much of a stake in the Establishment, though for security I do not know that I could do better. At any rate I will do no more there, indeed I could not if I would. All my Stock is not invested in the best manner. A man in my situation finds it hard to come at correct information because I feel unwilling to ask for it lest I should excite attention. I design selling the six shares remaining of George’s and transferring the whole to the Fire and Marine or some other Insurance Company, to my father. For otherwise I am afraid he will call for it to go to Washington. And I am fearful of the result of his speculations in that place. It may make him rich and it may produce an effect directly the reverse.2

I then called to see Edward Blake who notified me that we were put upon a Committee together last Saturday Evening to decide the affairs of the Bank of the United States in our Debating Society.3 Here is a fine opportunity. We talked for an hour and then I went to vote for City Officers and to get a Mortgage recorded of my father’s Property to pay the bequests of the Will. Thus went the morning. I forgot to say however that I received a letter from my Father,4 containing the receipt from Philadelphia. But the seal had evidently been violated and this induced me to go round and attempt to discover if I could trace it to any body here. I satisfied myself that it was not done here, the next thing to know is if it was done at Washington. I wrote to my father this afternoon to know.5 We shall soon hear if the Post Office is really not to be trusted.

The afternoon was passed in reading Aeschines as usual and translating some part of what I had already done. The Oration is a powerful one. There is a great deal of reasoning talent in it. The Evening was spent in reading aloud in Clarissa Harlowe to Abby, the interest of which goes on increasing. It is written with an accuracy wonderfully minute.