The Weather is becoming as warm again as it was a fortnight ago. I attended divine service all day and heard Mr. Whitney preach two Sermons neither of which made me particularly attentive. This I con-82sider such a misfortune that on my return to Boston I propose to correct it, and the only way I can think will be to carry a Bible with me, and consult the passage cited comparing it with the Commentary.

I read a few of my Grandfathers Papers and the play of the Siege of Calais by de Belloi,1 in consequence of Grimm’s criticism. I find it in some respects just but very harsh—The play having more merit in it than I expected, and many of the lines being particularly striking. But such are the merits of Critics. Afternoon I took a Bath with my father, and found it extremely refreshing. Mr. and Mrs. Angier called. She is silly from affectation. Quiet evening. The Cunningham Correspondence and the Spectator.

This is the National Anniversary. And preparations had been made to celebrate it with effect. As my father was to deliver the Oration, I thought I would hear him for the purpose of forming a Judgment upon the character of his Oratory. To do this, I felt as if I should make sure of a good seat only by going through all the Ceremonies. Isaac Hull and I therefore went up a little before nine and endured all the excruciating heat of the sun, effect of the dust, procession &ca. for three hours, until we reached the Meeting house, thus paying pretty dearly for our privilege. The Oration was an hour and twenty five minutes.1 The manner was as I expected, perhaps a little better though with a little of the defect I anticipated. His manner is adherence to nature which in my estimation is superior to E. Everetts studied Style. It is difficult to fancy to one’s self how far the power of words may be carried. Perhaps no more striking contrast would readily present itself than that of the reading of the Declaration of Independence by Mr. Potter, commonly called a good reader,2 and that of passages of the same by My father in the course of the Address. The matter was very good but I fear for him lest in his age it should bring upon him the War of words to which through all his life he has been accustomed.3 It is the character of my Father vehemently to attack. He does it through all his writings more or less, and attack in every community creates defence; Controversy rises, from which issue anger, and ill blood. All this is not to my taste and therefore I presume I must be set down as preferring insignificance and inglorious ease.

I attended the Dinner4 and suffered three hours of excessive heat without any thing to pay me for it, excepting a beautiful tribute to the 83memory of my Grandfather here in his native town, which affected me even to tears.5 That is worth having. Removed from all the stormy passions he sleeps in his last mansion, yet the spontaneous effusion of grateful hearts rises up to cheer and invigorate his drooping descendants. Left the Table at five entirely exhausted, and sought relief in a Salt water Bath.

Occasional visits during the whole evening. We all went to a little party at Mr. Quincy’s which was pleasant enough. There was an uncommon display of Aurora Borealis this evening extending from the North West to the East over full one third of the Horizon. The rays of light shot up to the zenith changing their position and intenseness perpetually. I was so fatigued I could not look at it as much as I wished. Read the Spectator as usual.