Fine. At home. Nothing material. Evening at the Mansion.

I did not make as much out of the morning as I should have done. Kirk occupied me part of the time in planting trees, and I was engaged in other necessary arrangements in advance of winter about the place, a little more. And to confess the truth in addition to all this I did not take to my work kindly. My thoughts lagged heavily.

This morning completed the publication of my three papers upon the Philadelphia Manifesto. If I can judge at all of my productions, I should say they were about as good as any thing I have done with the exception of an occasional error or two of haste, and one of reasoning. But error is always liable to creep into such judgments.

Afternoon, felt so indolent that I read Menzel lazily. The long evenings now create a great waste of time. Evening at the Mansion. Fanny continues an invalid there.