Diary of Charles Francis Adams, volume 1

Saturday. July 3d. VIII.

Monday July. 5th. V:45.

Sunday. July 4th. VIII. CFA


Sunday. July 4th. VIII. CFA
Sunday. July 4th. VIII.

Arose, after having again missed Prayers, but this is as usual for I have not attended one on Sunday morning since the commencement of the Junior year, I might say since the middle of my Sophomore. I wrote my journal in the morning and read a few numbers of Salmagundi which diverted me as usual. I do think however that his sort of wit has too much sameness to delight all the time. I also attended Chapel and heard the President and Dr. Ware deliver consolatory sermons to the widower Professor Willard.

I have omitted to mention, although I have thought of it more than once, the death of Lord Byron in Greece, which is announced in the newspapers. There are but few men in an age of real talent, he was 221one of these few. He had a mind comprehending far more than this earth, there was no subject grand enough for this man’s conception. He strained for more than the lot of man and missed his aim by falling into obscurity. He could not understand the 1 which he himself was desirous to aspire at. His head grew giddy as he ascended and wishing nevertheless to continue distinguished, he plunged into a marsh below. His last productions disgrace him, they do him no honor even for talent; for morality, he never was distinguished.

After dinner it being the fourth of July, we, Sheafe, Tudor, Richardson and myself determined to celebrate it and therefore drank a bottle of Champagne. We toasted the day, the signers of the declaration of Independence and withal I drunk success to my brother John who is on this day, twenty one years old. May he be happy, distinguished, and may he maintain the dignity of the Adams family. I unintentionally almost spent in this way, nearly all the afternoon, and had no power to do any thing but read over my lesson for tomorrow morning and the one for the review. My afternoon went in this way, the Evening was taken up in walking, taking out Mr. Norton’s2 swing post and performing sundry other feats too numerous and too heroic to place in my Journal. I returned home and after some conversation with Richardson which was as usual very troublesome.3 I wonder if I am to be bored with him all my College life. In the Evening I studied my Enfield over again and read my Bible as usual. Went to bed early. X.


One word overwritten and illegible in MS.


Presumably Andrews Norton (1786–1853), Dexter professor of sacred literature at Harvard from 1819 to 1830 ( DAB ).


Thus in MS.