I went to town again this morning and was occupied in the closing directions for the house, which has at last resumed it’s natural appearance. I was obliged to attend to a thousand little things which go into the sum total of starting a household, as my Wife is not able to attend to any thing, and Mrs. Frothingham upon whom I much depended has been called away to New York. She returned yesterday, 164and I saw her this morning. She looks very much fatigued. My time passed without my nothing it until my usual hour for return.

Poor Henry Brooks was brought here and thus closes the scene with him. It appears that he has been diseased in his liver for upwards of a year, and that no human aid could have effected his restoration. It is a very extraordinary case. His complexion was exceedingly sallow, but I never should have dreamed of his being unsound. This circumstance is a relief against all doubts of his medical treatment.

My Afternoon was a clearing up one. I finished off all the work that remained, and restored things as much as I was able to their places. The family went to town to see Miss Kemble as Julia in the Hunchback1 so that we had a very quiet evening of it. Nothing material.

This was the morning for our move. Accordingly after seeing to every thing, I went off leaving my Wife and child to follow in the Carriage with my Mother. On my arrival in town I found myself occupied with a multitude of the little things necessary to be done as I stated yesterday. The whole family arrived safely at about eleven, and we were again safely installed in our establishment.

This while it relieves me of much of the peculiar anxiety experienced now at Quincy, is attended with cares of it’s own. I would endeavor as far as possible to shake them off. For in this world, I am pretty well satisfied that man makes little for his own happiness who extends his anxiety to subjects that little deserve it. I propose from the present time to devote myself more to literature, to do every thing that I may be able to find, and to waste as little as the constant and inevitable calls of life will permit.

I went to the Office, and from thence to the Athenaaeum Athenaeum . Afternoon at home. My Mother left us at five, despairing of finding the President. But he arrived nevertheless about an hour afterwards. His health and spirits seem to have been improved by the trip. He staid with us the evening. Mr. and Mrs. Frothingham also called. Thus ended our first Boston day.