A very warm morning. I started for Quincy shortly after breakfast with Mr. Everett and Mr. Whitney of Deerfield. We took up on the old Road near Dorchester Corner, Mr. Whitcomb, a man I did not know. We reached the town hall in good season and I joined with our party, the Orator of the day &ca. at Mr. Whitney’s. The sun was scorching but we had a short procession and got into the Church in good season. The ceremonies were good and the Oration rather above the ordinary level of such productions.1 This is giving considerable praise for there is no more difficult effort than one of these Addresses. He did not stir any temporary politics.
We dined in a tent covering part of the Hancock Lot and on the whole had a very pleasant dinner. A thunder shower came on to cool the air and the champagne circulated so briskly as to heat the citizens to activity. In this Country it is, I suppose, every man’s duty to take part in such things, but I confess if there is one thing I hate it is just this. A. H. Everett made a silly Speech and a silly Toast. The general toasts which were drawn up by my father were very good.2 I left the table before my turn to be called upon came and so escaped my Quandary.
Passed an hour at my father’s, where the gentlemen called for me. We reached town at seven in good order. The rain prevented the evening festivities. Mr. Whitcomb told us he was a democratic radical.
“Mr. Beale and Mr. Bartlett called on me early this morning for Toasts ... for the celebration of the coming 4th inst. I gave them eleven toasts which I had just written.... I furnished these with reluctance, having no talent at toasting, and being very sure of bitter criticism upon every Toast that I give.... I told them that in composing the Toasts I had excluded every sentiment approaching to party Spirit of any kind. They said this was their own desire; but the consequence is that the Toasts are all flat”