Uncommonly cool for the season but clear and pleasant. I started very early in the morning with Mr. Walsh in company to go to Quincy. We reached there shortly after nine and I went immediately up on the hill to observe what they were about. Two or three workmen were engaged in getting out the frame, but it looked cold and cheerless and wet about the place. They grumbled a little, but it may make them hasten their work. I then went to the Bank and drew the Dividend upon my Shares and my father’s, then to the House where I warmed myself and showed Mr. Walsh the remarkables. Then came time to return and I had an hour at the Office for business. But I lost my Homer.

Afternoon reading. Our family a little deranged by the dismission of my man which I was compelled to resort to on Sunday to my regret. Changes in a house are always so disagreeable. Burnet. He is a little 218tiresome however. Began Wieland’s Agathon which I brought from Quincy with me,1 and made an extract or two from Montbarey into my book of generals.2 Evening at home. Read Moore a little, but my cold is still such as to make reading a little unpleasant. Afterwards, amused myself with Wieland’s Agathon but rather fatigued.

I went down to the Office early for the purpose of meeting Mr. Spear who had come yesterday from Quincy without success. He was at the Office when I got there, and we spent a large part of the morning in going over the Accounts of the whole year. He also took the money for the bricks which had been furnished, and I set off the Note held against him, so that we came out pretty nearly even, and I felt relieved by the settlement as it had been upon my mind. I then busied myself in collecting the funds due upon the beginning of this month, which I succeeded in doing but it took the time until dinner.

Home late and no Greek. This is the season of the year when my studies begin to be irregular. Afternoon, Burnet, some of Plutarch and Wieland’s Agathon which is certainly a very fascinating book. The style is flowing and the action rapid, while there is a large admixture of learning and philosophy which gives dignity to its otherwise merely novel species of composition. Evening at home. Continued reading Moore and afterwards, writing for an exercise.

This was the day appointed according to immemorial usage for a day of fasting and prayer. It is not so now employed and has not been for many years but rather on the contrary for amusement and private festivity.1 The day was fine as it always is, and as usual the common was alive with boys playing ball. I like the scene. It is the only one of the whole year, we see in this country devoted to innocent amusements.

Attended divine service in the morning and heard Mr. Frothingham deliver a very good discourse upon fasting to which however he assigns very little value as an exercise. I do not remember the text, but I think his doctrine was slightly in extreme, for I fancy there is some weight in the example of Jesus who fasted forty days in the wilderness, as well as in the theory of its reducing the mind to a better sense of it’s own condition.

Walk with Mr. Walsh, and he dined with me together with T. K. Davis who came in by accident. They sat talking after dinner, so that I preferred their company to the afternoon service. After which we strolled round the Common until tea time. Mr. Brooks then came in and we had quite a merry time. After which another lazy conversation until eight when they left. I did little afterwards, except a chapter of Agathon.