Morning bright but cold. The severity of our Winter is coming upon us quite rapidly. But it is now so far in the Season that luckily it cannot last very long. I went to the Office as usual, and was occupied in making up my Accounts and those of the agency. I called upon Mr. Brooks to inquire how Mrs. B. was and was told she was much the same. But they had hopes that she would now improve. I then went to pay Hilliard and Co. their Account against myself and my father. This being done, I went back to my Office and was called upon by Richardson who sat for half an hour talking but apparently in rather low spirits—His father being about to go away and leave him in charge of the family.

Mr. Tenney came up to tell me he had not got his security but would shortly have it and spoke so well and so confidently that I thought myself foolish for having got into difficulty about him. I think I have got rid of that concern. Now still remains the one in Tremont Street, and these Offices, which are matters for future meditation. Mr. Curtis also came in to show me Mr. Lowell’s Opinion about Mr. Boylston’s affairs. It is clear but a little discouraging. Returned home and after dinner occupied in writing a revised copy of my Essay in a book,1 and continuing the Clouds of Aristophanes. A most singular work—Especially the passage inserted in the middle of it, which would lead one to suppose that it belonged to some other Play, and requires many more perusals to become master of. Mr. Sparks then called upon me to 144ask about the papers copied, and left some which I looked over directly. They contain nothing but what is creditable to him in an extreme degree,2 in my mind. His patriotism was not exceeded by that of any man during the whole of our revolution. I read in the Evening a part of Clarissa Harlowe to my Wife though my Cold was so severe that I was unable to do more than grunt aloud. After she retired, I went on with the Wasps of Aristophanes.