My nights are a little more disturbed since my return to town and we again have the Baby, in the room. I arose early and immediately after breakfast started to go to Weston according to my engagement. Called for my old acquaintance Richardson and completed my business in the course of an hour or two. This was as usual the marking out of Wood for the yearly sale. Returned home soon after my usual dinner hour. The weather being uncommonly warm today, made my precautions against the cold rather troublesome.

Afternoon at home. Took up the letters to Atticus and read one or two, but was stopped by a visit from T. B. Adams Jr. who stai’d to tea. He is going off tomorrow morning to Charleston after having passed four or five months here with his family. He appeared more like himself in the simplicity of his character today, than I had seen him for a long time. Nature is after all the great secret, of manners. He left us early and Edward Brooks came in for the remainder of the evening. I read Bacon’s Essay of Praise and the Spectator.