Rain. Attended divine service as usual, and the rest of the time passed at home.

It does seem as if we could have only one or two dry days at a time. The quantity of humidity in the atmosphere is so overpowering. From noon it rained pretty constantly.

I heard Mr. Lunt preach from the Wisdom of Solomon 1. 6. “For wisdom is a loving spirit,” a sensible discourse upon the connexion of true Wisdom with benevolence, as distinct from selfishness or dishonesty. Also in the Afternoon from Titus 2. 11. 12. “For the grace of God that bringeth salvation hath appeared to all men, teaching us, that denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously and godly in this present world”.

As I had accidentally sent the volume of the English Preacher to town I took up a volume of Tillotson1 and read a Discourse from Ecclesiastes 9. 10. “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave whither thou goest.” I like this text and hence read the Sermon. It has been the principle of action with me for many years in the limited sphere in which action has been allowed to me. It is true there 135are to many others ideas of creating work to do which never appeared to my mind within the scope of the text. The hand must find it but must not make it.

Dr. Tillotson considers the text in two points of view as it regards religious benevolence and also the particular calling of the individual, in both of which undoubtedly there is much profit to be found. The great duty of man is the cultivation of the moral affections, then comes the collateral developement of the intellectual powers and the duties of active life. Mr. Degrand was here on a visit to my father until late in the evening.

Heavy rain all day. Confined to the house. Nothing material.

This was the day fixed upon for our return to town, but the rain was so heavy and so incessant that we could not stir a step. My time was principally taken up with Revolutionary History, now dipping into Sparks’ Life of Washington and now into the Memoirs of La Fayette. There is something to be gathered from both. Mr. Sparks is a very laborious man and he has managed to get under his control a considerable proportion of the MS papers of our Revolution, but he is also a dull man and has a set of political notions which are not exactly in accordance with the theory of our system. He does not appear to have added many material facts but he has new details.1 Before night I got tired of both books and the time hung a little heavy.

Clear. Removed to town. Office, and afternoon at home.

Shortly after breakfast I started with my Wife and Louisa from Quincy for the town. Thus terminates a residence than which I do not believe man can enjoy a much pleasanter. The Summer has been sunny and will perhaps make the happiest spot to look back upon if I live. There may have been times of more noisy pleasure or brilliant dissipation but none of more uninterrupted enjoyment.

I went to the Office and passed some time. Afternoon tolerably 136cheerless at home. Read part of Swift’s Tale of a Tub which I have never read before1 and which I do not much enjoy now. There is not method enough in the Satire. It mixes until the brain becomes confused and tired and will not follow longer.

Tried to write in the evening but could not find the materials to do it easily. It is surprising how easily these little trifles check me.