Another delightful day. I went to the Office. Engaged as usual in making up my arrears, which is about the only occupation of my morning. I lounge away too much time at the Post Office reading the Newspapers. I do nothing and ought to be ashamed. The money pressure still continues, and the accounts from Washington are that it will not cease. The Administration party is determined to do nothing. Heaven help us.
Took a long walk, invited by the beauty of the day. Afternoon reading Stewart Essay on the cause of beauty,1 and the Andria. Afterwards I went to the Boylston Market to attend the annual Proprietor’s meeting. Nothing done but the election of Officers and the usual organization for the year. I tried to vacate my post but did not succeed. Afterwards, I went to Mrs. Frothingham’s, where she had a party of children, it being her eldest son Thomas’ birth day. A few grown persons of the family, but it was very fatiguing. Returned home by ten o’clock.
Probably Dugald Stewart whose philosophical essays had been acclaimed by Sir James Mackintosh.