Morning very bright though cool. I went to town. My time was very much taken up first in paying a visit to Mrs. Frothingham’s, then to my house, then to collect Dividends and afterwards at my Office making up and settling Accounts. Mr. Forbes called and settled his Account and I payed him an Amount pretty large for Six Months. The hours flew and I was barely in time to get home to dine. Mr. and Mrs. Frothingham were there as they had agreed to be and Mr. Alexr. Townsend was also there without any agreement. This was one of those cross accidents which will sometimes happen to mar intended sport. My father could not well avoid being civil to him much against 156his Will. We had plenty of music and some very good.1 They went early and left us again quite alone at home. But there soon came a supply of Company. For all the Quincy People seemed to come together as if by invitation.2 They spent the evening. I read Bacon’s Essay on Suitors, and the Spectators as usual.

Morning fine and warm for the Season. I was engaged during the whole time previous to dinner in working in the garden. My father has not many persons who are willing to attend precisely under his superintendence and so when he wishes a thing done, it is my particular province to do it. I accordingly devoted this time to the formation and transplantation of a set of raspberry vines for a new bed now to be formed. This involved the pruning of the old set which I retained exclusively to myself and which I accomplished.

The afternoon was taken up in a fishing bout with my Mother and I. Hull; we had good sport which induced us to stay until after Sunset. And when we returned it was that I began to feel the fatigue of standing and work all day. This disabled me from doing any thing of importance. Even Lord Bacon’s Essay on Studies—One of the best in the whole collection, could hardly keep me awake and I got through with the Spectator.

Morning clear and beautiful. This was the day fixed for our final return to Boston. Accordingly about six o’clock, I arose, and made all the preparations to start. Mine were much sooner regulated than those of my Wife and Child. We finally got off at about ten o’clock. I must 157confess I never left with so much regret and never went to my own home with so little satisfaction.1 This I do not consider a favourable symptom in myself. The strong stimulus of ambition which has pushed me on for two years to deny myself many of the pleasures of life, has given way before the prospect which circumstances now present to my view. My mind wants healthy occupation. It wants also something that may prove useful to myself as well as to others. Perhaps I have less confidence in my own resolutions, and more disposition to look to the pleasures of life. Here as everywhere my trust is in the Deity. Conscious that my present path is one of difficulty unusual to a man so young, I rely upon that aid which has never yet deserted me.

At the Office before and at home after dinner. My house was comfortless—Every thing being as yet out of order and going on roughly. The Jar of little things upon the Nerves is perhaps the hardest lesson of Patience in the world. Great misfortunes rarely come in numbers, and are met with greater courage, and most often are anticipated from afar. I read Bacon On Faction and the Spectator.