The morning opened fine and mild but continued not in the same mood. The heat of the weather soon formed Clouds, and the atmosphere became thick and hazy. I attended divine Service all day and heard Mr. Frothingham preach, without giving the attention he seemed unable to command. I cannot help thinking when in a Church that I could read the man’s own Sermon much better than he could himself and that perhaps had I the opportunity I might rapidly acquire reputation. But this opportunity is probably not soon to be afforded me and this may be all for the best, by the time which it may give to mature what is yet only in weakness and unformed. But my visions are now so strong that I must at least attempt to dispel them, and then perhaps the result will show me my dreams like a Cloud in the distant prospect, fast vanishing into thin Air.
I wasted the day. My wife seemed anxious for my Company and I could not deprive her of it, although I omitted Jeremy Taylor, who has not been altogether so well used heretofore as I could have wished. Miss Julia Gorham dined with us but remained a very short time afterwards. I read in the Evening a part of Clarissa Harlowe to my Wife. The Story is becoming very deeply affecting. It has much more power than I had imagined.