The day was so doubtful looking that I concluded to postpone my intended ride to Quincy until I could decide upon the probability of the workmen being able to go on. At the Office. Accounts which were a little discouraging today. I have weakened myself too much and am now making an effort to get back by drumming up the Tenants. The public mind continues much agitated by the distresses of the commercial community which instead of being relieved appear in New Orleans and New York to grow worse and worse. There must come an end to this soon on the principle that matters cannot be worse. The last shock is apprehended from the London Bankers, of whose solvency the chance is just about equal. It seems that the President of a N. Y. Bank has very suddenly died there under suspicious circumstances as connected with his Institution. My spirits not high.

Home to read Homer which on the whole I enjoy as much as I do anything. Mr. Walsh dined with me and we afterwards rode out to Quincy. We had a thunder shower on the passage of no great severity. A mile and a half from the spot, I observed that my house was at last raised and made quite a figure in the air. They have worked very faithfully in the process and it was nearly all framed and looked well. This is encouraging. Remained until nearly sunset and then home. Mr. Walsh took tea and spent the evening. Afterwards, Agathon, but I was drowsy and retired.