A dull drizzle and gloomy day. I went to the Office feeling excessively out of order. My indisposition of the Autumn continues and affects me constantly, not so much by any pain as by general uncomfortableness. I read some of Dr. Lingard and was engaged in my usual occupations. Time flies in this way so that I am hardly conscious of it’s passage. Yet I do not know that I do quite enough to improve it.

Took my regular walk in spite of the weather, but found that my head ach was coming on notwithstanding. Afternoon, did little or nothing but finish my article. This is now out of the way, and will trouble me no more. I have laboured upon it far more than the thing is worth. I shall now lay the subject aside not to resume it. My condition was such that I could not employ myself usefully in any thing.

Miss Julia Gorham was here in the evening. At nine o’clock, my Wife and I went to a ball given at the Tremont House by Mr. and Mrs. J. H. Gray. This is a new mode for the purpose of saving private Houses.1 It was very splendid and very crowded. But I was in any humor rather than that of enjoying it. Home quite late.