A rainy, warm day again. I went to the Office. Writing. Mr. John Kirk presented himself today at my Office. He is just from Washington and definitively dismissed from my father’s household. I am glad of this for he had become quite a disgrace. And I have been labouring to produce this result for some time. He brought me an order for the debt due to him which startled me. As I have unlimited power of selling some of my father’s funds I had a resource, but it did not make me relish the better the mode of doing this. It happened that I had no funds of my father’s and this was an order for $1200.1 If it had not been Kirk I should do nothing about it. But as my exertions have produced his dismissal I am willing they should be taxed to pay him. I asked him to call tomorrow. I could not walk. Ovid as usual. Afternoon, the Papers in which I am slowly making progress, and occasionally I find an agreeable reminiscence. But not often. Mansfield Park and Goethes Werther as usual.