A beautiful day. I went to town accompanied by Mr. Brooks. Office where I was engaged with business and Accounts my whole time. Mr. Walsh came in about the case of the title for the trustees of Boylston, and we discussed it pretty full. It goes on so slowly I hardly think I made a mistake in giving it away. I am now pretty much of a useless drone. I have for many years nourished the idea that I might do something to add to my reputation, but I have failed and being above the necessity of labouring for a living, I have only to be idle, my powers which I know to be somewhat respectable notwithstanding. With respect to these however I feel that it will be advisable to think rather more humbly of them than I have done. The world wants great powers, and when I reflect that I have none to turn to account in any line which I can point out above what many others possess, I think I may as well retire within my shell of modesty. My grandfathers papers are my only resort and to that I must fix myself. Home. Afternoon, German and Ovid. Evening out. A visit at Mr. Jonathan Brooks’ and one to Miss Mary B. Hall.