Morning, northeasterly rain but it cleared away afterwards with a continuance of the same wind. I wrote Diary all day and attended divine service. Mr. Hall of Dorchester preached, my Wife’s relation. Luke 17. 17–18. “And Jesus answering said, Were there not ten cleansed? but where are the nine? There are not found that returned to give glory to God save this stranger.” The history of these lepers illustrates the principle of gratitude, which though it should be constant to God is apt to be forgotten by man on account of the impalpa-215bility of it’s nature. Such was the substance of the discourse which was in most respects drawn up neatly enough. Some touches of eloquence.

I asked him to dine with us which he did, and we got through well enough. Attended service again in the afternoon when I heard another discourse from Luke 2. 49. “Wist ye not that I must be about my father’s business.” As usual when I get no nap I was very drowsy this afternoon and able to hear but little of the discourse. What I did hear appeared to me not so good as that in the morning.

After service, I read a sermon of Dr. Barrow, upon the same subject which has been carried on for several weeks. “Contentment.” It was a continuation of the reasons given in the last why the misfortunes of the world should not have affected any Christian, and opens many views which are excellent and which I have occasionally myself glanced at. Of all things the most important is content. The poor man has his compensations. His is a life of hopes while the portion of the rich is fears. Which is the most fortunate situation.1

In the evening, Conversation. My father again related the anecdote of my Grandfather which I have been anxious to catch. It was about a Speech of his at a Boston Town meeting prior to the Revolution when Mr. Boylston had been making an unpopular Speech, and the people hissed, he rebuked them by a quotation from one of Milton’s Sonnets to which I must look.2 I made up today the rest of my Diary.

The day looked dark and occasionally low’ring. It rained a little but finally cleared away. We made ready for our departure and accordingly shortly after breakfast the Stage called and took us in. We found Mr. Brooks and Mr. Davis together with all the other places but our’s occupied. Our ride was a pleasant one through Hingham, Scituate, Hanover, Marshfield, Duxbury and Kingston to Plymouth. It cleared off as we arrived, at the house kept by Mrs. Nicholson to dinner. A neat but old place near the Court house. Mrs. Nicholson is the Mother of Mrs. Edward Miller of Quincy and has acquired property enough to retire from the business of a common Inn to that of a boarding house.

We dined and in the afternoon were visited by several of the Plymouth gentlemen who accompanied us round the town. We went to their building for their Meetings as a Society of Antiquaries, saw the fragment of the Rock upon which the first of the Pilgrims is supposed to have stepped, which is now inclosed by a fine iron railing in the middle of the town where it has been moved. We then went to the burying ground where but few of the most ancient stones remain, then to the Court House where we saw the records of the first Settlers.

Plymouth is a somewhat flourishing town even at this day, but its principal pride is in its historical recollections.1 As the place upon which a few pious conscientious men founded a State which with all it’s deviations yet bears much of the primitive stamp, it will ever be memorable. To think of landing here on the 22d of December without a shelter and three thousand miles from what once was a beloved home. The idea as I stood upon the burying place which is high and overlooks the harbour made me shiver. Yet even I could do as much with a sufficient motive.

Home. Evening, a variety of visits.2 Judge Russell and two sons, two Messrs. Davis, nephews of our companion and Dr. Thacher.