Morning pleasant though Easterly Winds have prevailed all along for some time. I went to the Office and was busy as usual in writing. Copied a large portion of the Bible letters. They certainly lean to the doctrines of the stricter sects and I do not wonder at their consequent desire to have them published. My father came into town and called at my Office for a few moments. He is one upon a Committee of the ΦBK Society about their secrets. He showed me an Anonymous letter about this business of the Pamphlet which is curious enough to be sure.1 Returned home to dinner.

My father and Mr. Brooks dined with us, and we had quite a pleasant time. They left us and my Mother who has been spending a week quite pleasantly here. I had little of the afternoon left and devoted it to making out a Catalogue of my Pamphlets, of which I can make very little use without one.2 And on the whole, I have a pretty valuable collection.

In the Evening Mrs. Saml. Dexter called to see my Mother. She sat half an hour and immediately upon her leaving, Judge Hall came in. He is a little prosaic but very well meaning. Continued my Pamphlet Catalogue in the Evening and read the Spectator.

Morning cloudy with rain in showers and the air very sultry. I passed an hour in pursuing my Catalogue of Pamphlets and went to the Office. I was there occupied in my usual business of the Bible letters. Finished the fifth. Judge Hall called in. He mentioned to me the Pamphlet which had been published by Farmer and asked if my Mother had seen it. I said, no. He thought it advisable that if possible it should be kept from her. I have my doubts. For should a sudden unexpected disclosure take place, it would affect more than if we prepared her.

I went to the Athenaeum where I sat down and read the History of the United States in the Cabinet Cyclopedia,1 a most impudent book which I feel vehemently anxious to criticize. Returned home. Expected Mr. Frothingham to dine but he disappointed us.

Afternoon writing a little upon the History of the United States, but could not please myself. Turned to one or two of the Letters of Caelius, almost discouraging by their obscurity. Evening at home excepting a short walk. Mr. Frothingham spent half an hour with us.2 Writing and the Spectator.

The day was clear, but with the atmosphere so exceedingly close and sultry that it was prostrating. I felt so languid that I was unable to accomplish as much as I generally do. Morning, one hour in writing rather in a rambling way. Then to the Office where I wrote my regular Diary and copied one Bible Letter. A single visit from T. B. Adams Jr. who had very little to say. Returned home, feeling as if I had been 109walking ten miles. Tried to get the History of the U. States but could not.

Afternoon, came to a stop. Cannot do anything without the book. Shall I try to do any thing at all? Almost discouraged. Took up the Letters of Caelius and finished the rest of them. He seems to have been a pretty well disposed man, without much principle and with strong passions. His friendship for Cicero kept him generally inclined to the right, though his sudden influences frequently drove him wrong. His letters are mutilated and obscure in their nature.

Evening quietly at home, excepting a short walk with my Wife. Read La Harpe’s Criticism upon Iphigenie. He thinks the Play nearly perfect. Strange that it should not interest me. I prefer Phedre and Athalie. The Spectator as usual.