Morning at the Office. Passed in reading Blackstone with some attention. I find myself more acquainted with it than I had expected. Read over in review my file of my father’s letters and found them more
interesting now than at first. My thoughts were of a mixed character, but they were not unpleasant. I dare not give utterance to them even here. They breathe a spirit of pride and perhaps of vanity which becomes no one. Received a note from Abby intimating a desire to have me remain in Boston on Sunday.1
It made me a little dull. After dinner I was reviewing Smith’s Chapter on Taxes and in the evening read the Disowned.