A clear day with a sharp easterly wind. I found my cold rather more upon my lungs but my head better. I went to the Office and passed my time in accounts &ca. The money affairs do not appear to improve at all and in New York confidence is generally shaken. Mr. Geitner called and Mr. Walsh, the first about his rent, the second to talk. I walked with him. Home where I read Homer.

Wrote a letter to Mr. Shepherd.1 The object of this is to keep him well informed of my relations with Mr. Johnson. Gorham Brooks’ wife in a late letter to my wife intimates that Mr. J. had written to her father his intention to come home, and his wish to procure a house near Baltimore. He may have written that he had received no remittances from me, and as Shepherd received the news, he might think I was negligent, and be sorry he recommended me. I therefore write him the true story and request his opinion what to do with the present remittance.

T. K. Davis and Mr. Walsh dined with me. A pleasant dinner and long conversation afterwards. But I felt as if I had been wrong to indulge in wine for my breast seemed to be the worse for it, and I almost lost my voice. Mr. Walsh came in again for a few minutes in the evening. Finished Montbarey.