The weather was misty and cold today. I went to town accompanied by my Mother’s woman Mrs. Kirk.1 Went to the Office and from thence to the House in quest of some books and papers. Did some business also and made up Accounts. A person called upon me respecting the building of a Carriage for my father. I went up to see one of his patterns, which I was not altogether pleased with. It was too showy, and not in the very best of taste. I had not time nor inclination to come to a decision about it before leaving town.

In the Afternoon, I read a little of Horace, and worked for some time in the Garden setting out the remainder of the Trees obtained the other day. Several of them begin to give significant indications of death. I doubt whether I save many.

Read Madame de Sevigné. She gives all the interest of her letters by lively phrases and happy turns of expression. Such things cannot be translated, nor are they in themselves of value. Such a book is rather a mode of lounging away time. Began this evening Cumberland’s Observer.