Showery but warm. At home. Ride after dinner. Evening at E. Quincy’s.
I devoted another morning to the examination of my books in the course of which I went through for the second time, the whole of my cash account, and brought out all my balances correctly with the exception of the general balance upon which the same error remains. I therefore gave it up as a bad business. The science of accounts is very well in its way but it must not be pushed to absurdity. I have now spent a week or more about an error of $10, which cannot be in any of the main accounts for they all come right.
After dinner, a little of Tacitus, and a ride accompanied by my father. We went round Weymouth and for the first time within my recollection I went to see the Meeting House and the parsonage which were the places of abode of Mr. Smith, and the birth place of my grandmother. There are very interesting associations connected with this scene in my father’s mind, but I have none at all. Yet I was glad to see the spot.
Evening, in the carriage to see Edmund Quincy. Mrs. Quincy the elder there and I. H. Adams and Campbell, with E. C. Adams went with us. She had expressed a wish to hear them sing. We remained until ten and then came home in the rain. E. P. Greenleaf there. Edmund Quincy is a red hot temperance man and indeed rather wild in most things just now.