A very fine day at last. At the Office after having gone down to see Hollis and the Houses which I propose to have shingled. Gave my directions about it but felt dissatisfied with Hollis. It is the very worst plan in the World to have a man pay his rent in work, for he charges just what he pleases and you can make no deduction. I propose by the close of this year to make a change unless this Hollis gets disposed to work differently, and to be more punctual in his payments. My present fear is that this one repair will bring on a great deal more.

Read a considerable portion of the Annual Register, particularly that which relates to Russia and Turkey. The style is that of my father, warm and brilliant. The views are his views, such as few other people think of holding. I am not sure that they are right, because with me every new question must be submitted to a process of reasoning before decision, but they certainly develope a state of things totally different from any previous idea of mine.

Returned home early because Mr. Brooks, and Mr. and Mrs. Frothingham were to dine here so as to go to Quincy.1 Miss Julia Gorham was here likewise. The dinner was pleasant because I begin to feel more at ease at the foot of my own table. They left me early and I passed the remainder of the day in reading Aeschines, continuing my Catalogue and concluding the trip to Flanders of Sir Joshua Reynolds.2 Evening, Logic, both the Oxford Elements and Hedge’s,3 after which the Article “Painting” in Elmes Dictionary of the Fine Arts.4