The morning was again clear and lovely. I went to the office however feeling heavily and not yet free from head ach. My time was taken up in writing my usual record and in removing my books and book cases thus commencing my start to a new room. Whether my project succeed or not of letting this one, I am at any rate under a much less heavy charge to my father—As I shall take good care of a room liable to be abused, and render it respectable while I am in it. I only completed the thing partially as I was obliged to return hence early for the purpose of preparing myself to go to Medford, to pay the last tribute to the remains of Mrs. Brooks. My notice appeared this morning and caused some sensation—The members of the family ascribing it to Dr. Stevenson or to Mr. Palfrey.1 Mr. Frothingham paid it a very pretty compliment. He arrived this morning, and upon Abby, Chardon and his wife and my reaching Medford we found him and the rest of the family assembled. Mr. Brooks behaved with tolerable composure, and the children acted naturally and without affectation. There was no superfluous and overstrained grief, it was silent, noise-172less and gave room for the sympathy of others. Mr. Stetson made a tolerably appropriate Prayer, though not so possessed of the kind of feeling which in my mind a Clergyman should have. The idea would force itself into my mind that the being acting for us was worldly, and not possessed of that high sense of the end of his vocation which exalts the spirit to speak in the tones of power to men. But still the prayer was by no means bad.

Those who came from Boston were a considerable number, besides the connexions of the family. We followed the body to it’s final resting place, and I felt my eyes tingle as the last duties were performed. I looked at the face, contrary to my common practice and I was struck with the placid state of the Features expressing the uncommon quiet of the mind when it departed. On returning home, to Mr. Brooks, we did not wait, but came back to Boston where we passed the Evening quietly.

Morning hazy but gave way to the Sun. This weather is delightful and pays for all the severity of the preceding period. I went to the Office and was busy all day in making my Inventory and returns to my Father of Affairs of my brother’s Estate. The loss on the sales is considerable, rather more than I had expected, but as those affairs are arranged it matters little. I was also busy in removing, to my new Office. This makes the third I have occupied since my being in Boston.1 I hope it will be the last. I should be willing to charge myself forty dollars a year for it if my father should feel himself at all embarrassed. It satisfies me much more than the extravagant appearance of the other one. My Law Books were all removed today, and tomorrow I propose to commence occupation.

Returned home and found Mr. Sparks had left business enough for me to do for the whole afternoon, but I hope that it will be the close. It took me not only the afternoon but the evening to do it. Miss Julia Gorham dined here, and in the evening Edward came in and sat a little while talking very pleasantly.2 I like some points in his character much—Others not quite so well. But as to conversation, he is generally agreeable. We had a very quiet day and nothing at all remarkable about it. I retired as usual.