I remained quietly at home all day. Weather warm and dry. I cannot say that I was properly occupied. After having read over my composition and feeling as usual exceedingly dissatisfied with it, I sat down to look over some old letters of my Grandfather’s. I methodized the letters of the last few years of his life, and went over two Chests. There are now remaining only three Chests, but those are crowded. Looked over the last number of the North American Review. The Articles seem to me to carry no interest with them. Indeed this Review seems to me now to be mainly supported by Mr. Peabody the Clergyman.1 Miss Elizabeth C. Adams took tea with us. The Child remains much in the same state. We sent in today for Dr. Reynolds.2 But he did not come. Our baby, I thank Heaven, gives us, in the meantime, little trouble.