On this day I enter upon my twenty first year. Moments are now passing which are to give the direction which my fate will take. My own mind is full of doubts and fears and troubles; these give me anxiety and pain in the midst of prospects as brilliant as have fallen to the share of any individual. The result is in the hands of the almighty, and to him I look believing and hoping and confiding all things.
The morning had been allotted to a fishing excursion with a party consisting of the Quincy gentlemen and ladies. Mr. Quincy, his wife, son and two of his daughters. Mr. Miller and his wife, Messrs. Thomas and Daniel Greenleaf and the two daughters of the first,1
together with the Parson’s family2
and some others. We were long in getting out and caught no fish. The party afforded me but little pleasure, and that little was received from Edmund Quincy, but I dislike his family. We reached home in good season, fatigued and burnt. My father was quite unwell.