I have unwittingly written what happened on Tuesday when I should in the order of time have been recording what happened on the previous day. This obliges me to insert it out of turn.1 I went to town 425in my own Gig. Morning at the Office. Called at Mr. Brooks’ and found that I and my two letters written on Thursday and Friday were here simultaneously. I then after talking with him, wrote her a third letter which carried the thing through it’s various phases.2 Feeling obliged to wait here for letters from my Mother until evening, I did not think it worthwhile to go to Medford myself as I should be able to reach there only very late in the evening. Passed some time in recording the eventful and voluminous occurrences of the past week.

But finding nothing to do in the afternoon, I passed it in reading Mrs. Opie’s Illustrations of Lying.3 Her philosophy is too high wrought for life as it is, and though our good sense agrees directly with much which she brings forward, yet by driving the line too far she weakens what is really likely to affect. It is too true, that people who always tell truth are not the most attractive and fascinating, they are never the most popular, and to many this is and ever will be the strongest inducement. You must alter human nature. After going to the Post Office and finding nothing from New York I rode to Quincy, though not until it was late. Found Mr. Wallenstein there, a short visit only. Fatigued and retired.

Morning to town in the Carriage as I wished to have it repaired and have one of the horses attended to, his feet being in bad condition. This made me very late. I found that Abby was in town this morning and therefore went up directly to the House to see her, where I remained until she left town with her father. I had much conversation with her upon the present state of our affairs and also upon the arrangements for our marriage. It is now coming on rapidly and I feel at this moment a little qualmish about it. May God protect me for I am now so in the Web of my own weaving that my own indiscretions will bring misery upon more than myself. I will however hope for better things. There is hope and it is my stay. I love Abby too much to be altogether without apprehension.

Returned to the Office and after dinner, wrote my Journal for a number of days past, then Called to see Blake who is to be my first Groomsman, and made arrangements with him, as to what it would be necessary for him to do. Not much as I hope, for I do not now feel any 426desire to make display. Our family is now situated very differently from what it has been, and my spirits if they were supported before, have seen enough now since my Journey to New York, to show how little in accordance gaiety is with our feelings and situation. I then drew up my father’s accounts. Thus passed the day. No letters in the evening from my Mother or John so I returned to Quincy late.