Fine day. I remained at home and occupied myself in my usual way interrupted only in the morning once for the sake of taking a sea bath. Sat down to Hutchinson and wrote off without stopping a very considerable quantity of matter. But my process of composition is very laborious from the way I have got into of not maturing things in my 149mind. Writing is foolish without great reflection, and this should be managed without the aid of pen and ink. I now think I can make a good thing out of this.

Spent nearly an hour in comparing text with my father. The old Journals are sometimes tedious and they were so today. Afternoon, read Virgil’s third Eclogue which is very pleasing. And looked through the trunks for the old Papers I wanted, but without success. Found incidentally some scattering letters of my Grandfather’s Correspondence. Quiet evening.

The intention was to have gone on a party today to Nantasket with some of the Quincy family but the various members of the family felt indisposed to go, and we excused ourselves. Mr. Beale and his eldest daughter called in the Evening.

Clear with a cool Easterly wind. I worked today with considerable effect upon my review of Hutchinson. I find the matter flows in upon me abundantly. The great difficulty is to know what to choose. I leave that for hereafter and strike now while the iron is hot.

I took a bath with my brother at the Wharf and found it quite pleasant. Read Journals with my father for a short time. But they want Interest just at present. Afternoon began copying the material Letters of the Correspondence I have been assorting out. Finished one and a half and read the fourth Eclogue of Virgil, the Pollio, a burst of poetry which is wonderful but the cause of which I find no satisfactory explanation of. Our Commentators are fond of twisting every thing into an announcement of the coming of the Saviour. I own I see no foundation for it. Virgil appears to have been unacquainted with the Hebrew Prophets who foretold his coming.

Evening. Conversation with my father upon the subject of the early Revolutionary War. Afterwards with the Ladies. My father’s health concerns us all very deeply.

Foggy with the Wind from the Eastward but it did not rain. I rode to town and was moving about some time. Went to the House and found that they had accomplished the business of whitening which is so much more done, but the Carpenter had not been. He is always the one behind hand. The Painter begins Monday or Tuesday, and 150his work is the principal business. I hope this will be all over in a week’s time, as I begin to feel anxious to get the house inhabitable.

Called by Appointment at Mrs. Frothingham’s, to meet my Mother who came in with Mrs. J. Adams. Found the former and agreed to meet her at noon at the Harding rooms. I then called upon Miss Julia Gorham with a Note from my Wife.1 The object was to explain her not writing sooner. Thence to the Office where I could stay but little. At Harding’s room where the Tam o’Shanter Statues are, we found many Ladies of our acquaintance. They and the Statues engrossed all the time until one o’clock.

I was grieved to hear of the dangerous illness of Henry Brooks at New York.2 His father left town this morning to see him. Home to dinner. Afternoon Virgil and copying Letters. Quiet evening. President Quincy took tea here. Legends of the Library at Lilies.3