Morning at the Office. Weather cool and clear. Received a letter 376from my Mother in low spirits but on the whole calculated to relieve me. I was again engaged in reviewing my poor brother’s papers which fatigued me exceedingly and I have determined to do no more until my father directs. Indeed I see little or nothing more to be done. The disorder is such as cannot be unravelled and all that can be done is to begin anew. I wrote an answer to my Mother in the Afternoon and stopped the subscription to the Essex Register for George. Read a little of Clarendon and of the Spectator in the evening.