The day was excessively warm. I went to town and was engaged pretty actively, first, in finishing off my Quarterly Accounts, second in 119 my affairs. Purchased of my Broker, Mr. Degrand, a four month’s Bank credit for a considerable sum which made it necessary for me to be active in the collection of my Dividends and putting all my affairs in train. The Dover Stock has done very well1 and my residence out of town enables me to spare more of my money than I could otherwise readily to without. This with two or three small interruptions consumed the remainder of my day.

I rode to Medford and found my Wife and child whom I was glad to see. The Afternoon was passed with little or no regular occupation although I did not quite pass it without reading—One or two Articles in the Monthly Review the most interesting of which was upon Mr. Jay’s late work.2 The Writer is not a Convert to Mr. Sparks’ new doctrine.

In the evening, we all went down to Mrs. Angiers for the purpose of paying a visit to Judge Cranch and his Wife who happened to be there. By we all, I mean Mr. Brooks, Mrs. Gorham Brooks, my Wife and self. After stopping some time we returned home and found our child quite sick with pukings which we did not understand. She had been unusually fretful which with her is an unerring sign of indisposition. From the want of an experienced person in the house, I had an anxious and sleepless night.

It is not easy to say how much I suffered during the night and morning—The child taken so suddenly, my Wife in no condition to bear so much anxiety and compelled to rely upon our own resources for a remedy. In a strange house so far as all the assistance we required was concerned and giving trouble, I felt quite unhappy. Then there is such a change in the house that I hardly know Medford again. Mr. Brooks himself appears to me depressed by his own difficulty, a recurrence of a complaint in his knee which arose from an injury received some years ago, as well as from the changes about him. I accompanied him to Boston as the child had taken medicine and seemed somewhat better. Little Peter, Mrs. Gorham Brooks’ child had been affected in just the same way.

My hours in Boston were anxious, and the weather was very warm. I was engaged in a number of little occupations relating to money affairs and had an hour’s conversation with Mrs. Frothingham in 120which I spoke very unreservedly of matters as I viewed them. Such is the vanity of human expectation. The plan which I had supposed would fix the comfort of Mr. Brooks’ declining years, turns out the least eligible of any that he has pursued.

I returned to dinner with Mr. Brooks, the child had seen the Dr. and he had relieved very much all our apprehensions. The Afternoon was quietly passed. I looked over the North American Review, more especially my Article which I find much less altered from the original than was the preceding one. It must now take its chance with the public. My expectations of literary success have been humbled to such an extent that I expect little praise, and my peculiar views together with my name lead me to anticipate some little censure. To counterbalance this I have nothing but a clear conscience. Evening, there were visitors. Mr. and Mrs. Stetson and the Misses Osgood.1