Morning at the Office as usual. Occupied myself in reading Marshall as much as I could, but owing to frequent interruptions was impeded somewhat in my progress as well as understanding of it. My father came in to talk of a variety of things and to ask me to go to Quincy with him which was arranged. I then seized the opportunity to consult him about his property here and the disposition of it and he gave me Carte blanche with it as he always does with his Agents. No wonder that they have cheated him. But as it is my intention to do by him as faithfully as I should were the case my own, I feel rather heavily the weight of the responsibility. Mr. Orcutt again called to intimate to me that I had admitted a bad tenant and to tell me he had not yet succeeded in raising any Money, a much more important and less agreeable piece of information. I told him to make another effort and if that did not succeed I would then myself take the Mortgage he offered as his Security. This with the payment of one or two small demands against my Father which were presented and one Post Office Account rather larger than I could quite comprehend, passed the morning.

My father dined with me as did John Gorham, brother of Miss 55Julia.1 Dinner much as usual excepting that I thought Abby made a little too much display, for the occasion and for my economical feelings. The weather was mild so that we rode to Quincy with my father after sunset without being uncomfortable, and that too by the way of Milton as we did before when I confess I suffered a little. We reached my father’s to take tea, found Miss Smith as usual, and Mr. William Greenleaf who is now occupied as secretary to my father, in copying the papers which Thomas left.2 He is not uninteresting. We snatched a moment to look at my father’s library which is gradually developing itself.3

The morning was bright and fair and the air as mild as Summer, so that I enjoyed the day considerably. We all attended Divine Service both in the morning and the afternoon and heard Mr. Whitney preach two Sermons of very indifferent interest. He is a preacher who looks ill suited to his new Pulpit and does not raise the character of the mind in it’s aspirations after good.1

But the most remarkable incident of the day was the first appearance of the Tablet which my Father has caused to be erected to the memory of his Father and Mother. It is very pretty and quite ornamental although in the utmost simplicity. The inscription was written by him, and is chaste and simple, merely recalling the dates and the incidents which made their lives so peculiarly memorable.2 I felt perhaps an undue elation upon seeing it but what is the objection. They earned 56their reward and it is but a humble one after all, and why should not I feel proud that they merited the distinction among men.3

Much of the day was passed in conversation with my father upon subjects of more immediate importance, relating to his affairs, and afterwards in examining his numerous books of which he has a fine Collection. They are selected generally with judgment and to great advantage, being rare and not elsewhere to be obtained. My passion for literature was much increased by the sight of the many books which surrounded me, all of which I felt as if I was anxious to read, and most of which it is more than probable I never shall touch. For what is the life of man and especially of one who has duties of other kinds to perform. All this was a little dull to Abby, especially the refined tone of Conversation of my father which is perhaps a little too literary now for the taste of the present age. My own information is often puzzled by it. But as I am fond of instruction, I like this means of enlarging it. The evening was passed at home. One or two visitors came in, Mr. Beale and Mr. Daniel Greenleaf,4 but they soon left us, and I passed an hour reading Mrs. Thrale’s Correspondence with Dr. Johnson.5