Morning cloudy but rather more mild than it has been. After going to Market and making some purchases for a few days, I went to the Office. Received a short letter upon business from my Father, in consequence of which I was engaged in making the necessary inquiries. Called at Mr. Oliver’s Office, State Street, and settled with him, then saw Degrand for one or two moments, and returned to reply to my father which I did before one o’clock.1 Then took a walk.

Found Abby so sick upon my getting home that I concluded to send for the Dr. A married man must expect this as one of his greatest cares—The health of his Wife and Children if he is blessed with any. Ever since my Marriage, my Wife has been delicate, and she has lost the superintending care of her Mother which was her principal reliance. I do not know what to do. And therefore send to Physicians to take the responsibility off from my mind. Read Cicero the whole Afternoon. Cotta’s Confutation of the Stoic follies, though himself guilty of a few. Evening Gibbon and Homer’s Iliad. After which, the Spectator.