A very mild pleasant day more like September than this month. I took the opportunity to go to Quincy and give my final directions for the winter. The Country did not look cheerless at all. I succeeded in accomplishing many things I came out for. Settled with my painter and at the Quincy Bank and gave my final directions to Mr. Adams who is still at work on the outbuildings. Took a look at my house which appears in excellent condition and then returned in my Gig as far as the Toll house at South Boston where I got out and left it to Kirk to drive my horse back and keep him for the winter.

Home. Quincy Newspaper where I observed a long article in com-348mendation of a Lecture at the Lyceum delivered subsequent to mine. That which noticed my two was less than nothing. How is this? Are people afraid to praise me or do I not deserve it? Is there a determination to blast my honest attempts at reputation by resolute silence or is it a trial of my temper for the purification of my overweening self conceit?

Afternoon, writing upon the Currency but I feel discouragement, and may not publish. Evening, reading to my Wife until nine when I went to a party at Mr. Inches’ house. Cold company and stupid evening. I felt as if I should have preferred being at home. I get nothing by these party goings but vanity and vexation of spirit.