Fine day although the weather is growing colder and more in accordance with the season. I went to the Office, and into State Street to collect Dividends. Heard of the suicide of A. Richardson, Grocer and man of property. This spirit of selfdestruction is growing very prevalent in the Community and displays the existence of something wrong. Is it not that we are straining the cords too high. We are too grave a people. I believe that man’s mind cannot stand long the pressure which unintermitted attention to any single pursuit whether money, religion, education, or any other good thing brings upon it.1

Mr. Bailey called upon me and read a letter he had written to my father. He suggests a middle course, not to decline but to affect to decline, and that not until the selections have been made.2 I told him my objections which appear to me to lie on the face of the plan. I had no walk. Afternoon, Bacon and Virgil. Evening finished Smith’s Moral Sentiments. Racine to his son, very good.

Cloudy and cold today. I went to the Office and read very uninterruptedly for about an hour in the Parliamentary. I thought that I would then amuse myself and accordingly called to see Mr. Davis with whom I had much conversation. I remained so long as to lose my walk. Afternoon quietly at home reading Bacon de Augmentis.

Evening, my Wife never having seen the Opera of the Barber of Seville, and Mr. and Mrs. Wood, good singers being here, I went with her and Miss Julia Gorham to see them and hear them. The piece is a charming one. I have seen it often but never should be tired of it.1 Mrs. Wood is a fine performer though her natural voice is not so pleasing as Mrs. Austin’s. His is a fine man’s voice without any great pathos in it.2 Afterpiece, My Aunt. Returned home early.