Morning cloudy, but it cleared up in the course of the day into very fine weather. At the Office as usual. Little or nothing of interest occurred. I was busy in translating in which I made great progress. But it is dry and disagreeable work. I do not relish it much. No inter-236ruption at all. Went to the Bank and put in Prentiss Whitneys Note for Collection. This will settle that business in one way or the other, and get me out of another scrape in which I had thought myself deeply engaged. It remains to wind up with him his other small demands, about which I feel exceedingly unwilling—He having behaved in so very shabby a manner. But those demands must be settled.

Called for a moment to see Mr. Brooks after which I returned to the Office and continued Aeschines. As my Wife wanted to go to Medford to pay some visits, I agreed to ride out early after dinner. We accordingly started at four and stopped at Mrs. Gray’s, and afterwards at Mrs. Hall’s, Abby’s two Aunts. The former we did not find, the latter was upstairs and I did not see. After staying a short time, we went to Mr. Brooks. Found Edward Brooks and his Wife just leaving there for Boston. The evening was short, for Mr. B. and I took a ramble on the banks of the Canal and enjoyed the pleasantness of the west Wind. We went as far as the Farm which belonged to my Uncle and is mortgaged to my Father.1 It is a fine situation and by a Tenant who could improve it would make a great Estate for the Country—But as it is, brings little or nothing. My Uncle obtains whatever benefit there is in it. We saw also the Aqueduct over Medford River which has just been made. A substantial work and likely to be durable.2 But this Canal may after all be only finishing itself as a sacrifice to the rage of rail road improvement. Evening reading and Conversation.

The morning was fine but the air cold. The Wind having again become somewhat easterly. We attended divine service morning and afternoon and heard Mr. Stetson. He is quite a tedious preacher to me. I saw little in him to day to like. He may be a man of sense, but 237his way of shewing it is not attractive. We were very much alone at Mr. Brooks’, and I felt today more than ever the vacuum occasioned by the death of Mrs. B. There is a kind of loneliness about it, particularly now when Mrs. Everett is upstairs which is very affecting. So different was it last year though her fate was then impending and how much more so the year before when I went up about this time and saw there Dr. and Mrs. Thayer of Lancaster.1

This is the last page of the first volume of my Married life.2 Nine months have passed away very pleasantly, and my only regret is that my Wife is not with Child. I had hoped on her account much more than my own that she would have had an infant to soothe her loneliness. But it has not so turned out, and upon reflection I have had so many blessings showered upon me that I ought not to complain. I do not complain. This period of my life has had few things to make it bitter. And I feel too full of gratitude for what has been allowed me by a beneficent Creator, not to submit without a murmur to a privation his supreme wisdom has subjugated me to. My wife has lost a kind and indulgent Mother, but the blow had been so long coming that its force was broken. Its approach was gradual, and her sufferings were too melancholy to allow of much deep regret. Yet after all, she was a woman with as many fine domestic qualities, as in my life I ever saw, and to her family, her loss is not reparable. In general however my comforts have been many and my enjoyments great. May the future be as agreeable as the past, though this may be a presumptuous wish, I yet must hope it with humility.

The evening was chilly. Mr. and Mrs. Story, Miss Gray and her brother came and passed an hour in the evening,3 and William G. Brooks another, so that the time rapidly glided away.