Morning at the Office. Read Blackstone and passed the morning 365very quietly. In the afternoon, wrote a letter to my Mother with very little in it. The Truth is my wit is very barren and I am looking forward to a cessation of the Correspondence. My feelings are somewhat altered about writing, it being more of an exertion than it used to be. Evening, the Correspondence of Mr. Pope. We have had nothing but rain these three days.

Morning clear and pleasant. I took advantage of it to cut my connexion with the Marlborough Hotel and go to Medford. Arrived there early and in consequence attended divine service, morning and afternoon. Heard Mr. Stetson deliver two Sermons upon the subject of truth and the method of developing it which were good. The day was quietly but not very pleasantly spent, more from no particular pleasure in it than from any thing disagreeable. Chardon Brooks came out with Mr. Blodget who took tea here. Weather showery.

Day rather cold for this month but I had a pleasant ride into town from Medford. The roads are becoming better. Morning at the Office. Richardson called and paid me a visit of some length.

George received a letter from Washington asking him to go on and accompany them home.1 He is in such a state of mind, I think it is as well that he should do that as any thing. I cannot help pitying the miserable weakness of his character while I regret it. He has of late rather avoided my society as I neither participate in his griefs which are the result of culpable indolence, nor can sanction the results which it brings him to. This invitation I presume to be the result of a statement in one of my own letters to my Mother some days ago.2 He is undecided as usual.

Read Blackstone. Returned to my boarding house with much gratification. Found the family still out of order but my room was to me a consideration of much pleasure. Afternoon, Say, not interesting nor deep. Evening, Commenced reading over the Spectator with which I was pleased.