Morning mild, damp but warm. We attended Divine Service all day and heard a certain Mr. Gannet of Cambridge preach, a man whom I had heard once before and who is certainly infinitely dull.1 He dined with us, and gave us a good specimen of a pious, sincere, perhaps really good Clergyman with little or no head, and a face which was not very favourable. Mrs. Everett came down and I saw her today for the first time, since her confinement and the additional honor of her son. She looked quite well. But from some cause or other, 250I have lost my desire to cultivate her acquaintance, and indeed, the general apathy and stupidity of my present manner, begin to strike me. I am much altered since my marriage. The gravity and seriousness of my pursuits, and the cares of life now weigh sensibly, so that my friend Richardson’s remark the other day, is true.
Short walk and conversation with Mr. Brooks about his place, which now looks exceedingly well. It has much beauty and infinite capability. I should envy it if I allowed myself to do so. Mr. Swan, a gentleman living in New York called in the evening and it was passed in common conversation.
On Rev. Thomas B. Gannett, see vol. 2:380.
The morning was clear and cool. On the whole the month of May this year has been far from pleasant. The East Winds have prevailed very much and checked the warmth which we enjoyed in April. Left Medford immediately after breakfast alone, as my Wife was to go with Mrs. Everett to her house in Charlestown to spend the morning. Found at home a short letter from my Father announcing his probable arrival for tomorrow, and a short Note from my Mother, as I expected full of disappointment.1 I felt a degree of pain, but knowing that it would be folly in me to run any risk, my resolution was not changed. Never was there a measure of this kind upon which my mind was more clear.
Went to the Office, and after ascertaining that Whitney’s Note was paid, and returning my Affidavit of Notice of Administration to the Probate Office, I sat down and read Mitford with my usual indignation. An abominable book. Afternoon, finished the first Volume of Prior’s Life of Burke, and looked into Milton. My reading of the Poets has slacked so much that I find I must refresh. Evening reading Eustace to my Wife, and afterwards, examining the Oxford Elements of Logic.2
The letter from LCA is missing; that from JQA (25 May, Adams Papers) on the matter of CFA’s decision not to stay in Quincy has only a laconic “be it as you judge best.”
The book is not readily identifiable.