I went into Boston from Quincy and was occupied the greater part of my time in making the necessary preparations. Went to my House, from thence to the residence of one of the Tenants to make Collections. Wrote to my Wife and to my father1 and on the whole filled up every inch of my time. Returned to dinner. In the Afternoon 3with my Mother. She went out today to ride and bore it exceedingly well.

I have hopes now that weather permitting we shall get off and if favoured to New York we shall get along. The monotony of this life is so great that I am not able to put much into my Journal, and yet my activity and my responsibility were never more heavily drawn upon. Ovid, Metamorphoses Book 7—The Story of Medea, and the account of the plague of Aegina, both very fine morsels. German.