Lovely day. To town. Afternoon, planting. Evening at the Mansion.

Another extraordinary day. I rode to town. Found myself much occupied as usual in the details of business.

Had some talk with Harry Cabot however about the present state of pecuniary affairs. He wants me to explain to the public the causes of the difficulties in our paper system. But of what use is it to me when he admitted today he had never heard of my letters to Mr. Biddle? I do not however know that I might not be of service, and so I have sent to Mr. Hunt today a proposal to write an article for his December num-311ber.1 I think also of putting in one or two very brief ones in the Courier.

Home. After dinner out with Kirk to superintend transplanting, in which I have thus far been much favoured. Evening my Wife was so fatigued by going to town that she did not accompany me to the Mansion.