The first day of the season, which could be considered as extraordinarily hot. I went to town, accompanied by my Wife who was making another effort to see her brother.

My time was much taken up in a variety of commissions. But I managed to find time to balance my books and settle up all my accounts for the year. This is the third year of my practice of book keeping by double entry. I think it useful, although by no means the thing that it is praised to be. A man may be an excellent Accountant and still be neither an attentive nor an honest merchant. His books may balance through a parcel of fictitious accounts.

I managed to accomplish a good deal today and returned home well satisfied. Afternoon in part at the House, and in part reading Wieland and Humboldt. I like the latter much but am decidedly tired of the Abderites. Evening, at home. Conversation with my father who appeared unwell from his yesterday’s fatigue.