Morning cloudy and very cold. Found upon opening my morning’s Newspaper, a union announced between it and the Daily Advertiser. A union as unexpected as disagreeable to me. My Articles fall through of course.1 Such has been the uniform result of all my efforts. And now I feel myself more perfectly shut out than ever from any prospect of succeeding as a Writer. Went to the Office and from thence to Market. Having spent an hour there I returned with a very short space of time to accomplish a great deal of work in. Received a letter from my Father with the Note of hand I expected and called immediately upon Mr. Oliver to finish that transaction.2 I then went back to my Office and sat down to draw off my Quarterly Account for my Father. As the case was a simple one I accomplished it much more quickly than I have been accustomed to do. The Paper was drawn up besides my attending a sale of Stocks before one o’clock. The Stocks were low enough, a sign to me that Money is becoming daily more scarce. This has been expected by me. And now is the moment I ought properly to invest. But I have not as much as will keep me along. Took a walk before returning home.

In the Afternoon I wrote a letter to accompany my Quarterly Account3 and read but did not finish the third book de Officiis.

Evening quietly at home. Read to my Wife a part of the Canterbury Tales. After which I read the fifteenth book of the Iliad and my Spectators. A few minutes were then spent in reflection. It was the close of the year. A year that to me had been an eventful one. It had added to my happiness too materially to be soon forgotten. It had dispelled doubts and fears which for many preceding years had slightly shaded my path, and had justified me to myself for my conduct in some important particulars.