Morning return to town, with Abby whom I left at the House. Then to the Office where I was busy for some time making up my Journal, and performing several little commissions. Then to the House where I found Abby, Anne Carter, Julia Gorham, Mrs. Edward and Mrs. Chardon Brooks. They dropped in one after the other and went out again. I remained wasting my time, much of the morning. But I accomplished my purpose of having the pictures hung which belong to me. They now form quite a goodly collection. That of my Grandfather is invaluable both as a Painting and as a correct likeness of what
he was in those times. My Mother is a likeness but not a good painting. Her face wears a sorrowful appearance too common to her, and also very fresh now in my recollection. But I shall value that picture as I do her Miniatures as presenting even something of her appearance in those days.1
For hereafter there will be nothing. And I love to think of her as she was, in the midst of her gaiety and her prosperity. My father’s is not good being Stewart’s [Stuart’s]
first attempt, but I value it notwithstanding. I would prefer Copley’s at Quincy, but that must remain where it is.2
My own two little ones turn out quite beauties, being properly set off and answer very well in their places.
I lounged away too much time here so that I only gave myself enough afterwards to draw up my Accounts for the month previous to going to Quincy. They show rather a favourable balance since last month. Dined at Quincy. Afternoon passed in making up my House Expense Book and in packing a portion of my Clothes to go to Boston. The doing it was tedious. Evening, Conversation with my father. His Inscriptions with remarks upon the subject generally. I think it tolerably well but the closing line of each has not point enough.3