I left Quincy this morning finding my Mother much the same. In Boston engaged constantly in something or other without making profitable progress in any thing. Accounts. Copying letters. Diary 391arrears. Agency business. I find no time to execute my purpose of examining the Registry of Deeds, nor for going to my House. J. Q. Adams called for a few minutes. He has been to the Potomac, but the Captain was not there.

Went to Medford at noon. Afternoon pursued the reading of Herr von Lange, and the Epistles of Ovid, which I have now very nearly closed. My time is principally devoted to this German, for I mean to be acquainted with their Literature. The child Louisa is very drooping, we do not know what the case is.