Took a long walk in the morning with my Cousin and the Ladies. When we return'd we found, my brother Charles, with 247Mrs. Hillard and her daughter; who dined here, and return'd to Cambridge in the afternoon.

We all drank tea, at Mr. Apthorp's, and pass'd the evening there: this man is certainly a little crack-brain'd; his conversation, is ingenious, but he flies from one topic to another, with the utmost rapidity, and some of his speeches are extravagant. The least that can be said of him is that he is very singular, and between singularity and positive madness the distinction is but small.

I intended to have gone to Cambridge this afternoon, but could not get an horse. My Cousin went and will return to-morrow night. Wrote a letter to my father.1

I do not relish this life of idleness and expectation. I am very desirous that Commencement should be over, and shall certainly, not feel easy, till then. And indeed after that, till I get settled at some business, I shall not be contented.

Mr. Cranch and his son, return'd from Boston, this afternoon. Dr. Tufts stopp'd here on his way home. Mrs. Quincy drank tea here, and soon after went away with Nancy, who has pass'd the week here. Her mamma, has been so extremely careful to prevent her being a coquet, that she has in fact made a prude of her. If she should live to be an old maid, she will be terrible to all young ones. It is a pity, that it should be so difficult to avoid one extreme, without falling into its opposite.

Wrote a letter to my friend Bridge,1 and read a little in Lord Bolingbroke's philosophical works.2