Morning pleasant. Rode to town as usual. Prepared at my Office a Petition to compound with a debtor of New’s Estate, and presented it to the Judge who made the decree. I then went to Faneuil Hall to vote against the projected Railway measure. The mass seemed to be going the other way, but I went nevertheless and performed my duty as conscientiously as becomes a good citizen.1

Some time passed reading Hutchinson and I had a visit from an old man, name unknown, who requested to know something about a right to land to make a road through Weston Farm. It seems that it is likely to be much benefitted by it and will yet involve considerable expense. Now the object of my father is to be run in debt by it as little as possible, for as to profit the idea is absurd. I gave him little or no decided encouragement, and he promised to call again before County Court. Dr. Davis called to inquire for Mr. Everett. Returned to Medford and in the afternoon and evening read Parr, which became much more amusing.

Morning cool and cloudy, but it cleared away subsequently. Rode to town as usual and went to the Office to my occupations. Felt restless however and therefore went to my house to see how things stood there. To all appearance they were perfectly safe. Returned and met Mr. Greene with whom I went to the Boylston Insurance Office and received the transfer of the Shares for which I paid and so that matter is settled.1 Whether for good or for ill now remains to be seen. I have tried an experiment, and there are many reasons why I should wish it might turn out successfully.

Called to see if Hollis was moving but there did not seem any prospect of it. Provoking. Returned to the Office and read Hutchinson for the rest of the morning. Thence out of town. Found at Medford, P. C. Brooks Jr. and his Wife who dined and passed the afternoon. From some cause or other, my spirits were a little depressed. Yet I could scarcely tell the reason. Perhaps it is because this wandering kind of life has become fatiguing and reminds me that my life is wasting, without profit to myself or to others.

I read the remainder of the Memoirs of Dr. Parr this evening. It is an amusing work from the variety of characters introduced as well as the peculiarity of the subject, but I cannot think the mind of the 299writer was equal to the materials he possessed, he has not arranged clearly, or discussed thoroughly. He has compressed badly and not enlarged where his subject required. On the whole he has not done so well as Field.