Mr. and Mrs. Cranch went to Boston this morning, and return'd in the evening.

Arose at 8 o'clock, breakfasted at 9; after which I loiter'd and rambled about till 1. Dined; after dinner, smoked a pipe; slept till 6. Drank tea: play'd upon the flute, and sung all the evening. Supped at 10. Went to bed.

This is my history at present: is it not an edifying manner of passing one's time.

All the forenoon out, shooting birds. Much fatigued. At about three this afternoon, we had the smartest thundershower, that I have seen within these two years. Clear'd up again in the evening.

This day completes my twentieth year: and yet I am good for nothing, and cannot even carry myself forward in the world: three long years I have yet to study in order to qualify myself for business: and then—oh! and then; how many more years, to plod along, mechanically, if I should live; before I shall really get into the world? Grant me patience ye powers! for I sicken, at the very idea: thus is one third of a long life employ'd in preparing to act a part during another third; and the last is to be past in rest and quiet waiting for the last stroke, which places us just where we were 70 years before. Vanity! Vanity! all is vanity and vexation of spirit.

Mr. Cranch and his Son went to Boston this morning: my Cousin proposes to go this night to Cambridge, and return home to-morrow. For my own part I have spent my time this day as usual. I have even discarded thought, and live more like any of the domestic animals, than like a man.

I found something to do, this forenoon, and have pass'd it with less tediousness, than any for several weeks.

Went over to Weymouth and dined with Doctor Tufts. Conversed with him upon a variety of subjects. Came away just after Sunset: I found the two Miss Apthorp's at my uncle's and my Cousin return'd, when I got home.

There was a bright northern light this evening.