A very mild pleasant day more like September than this month. I took the opportunity to go to Quincy and give my final directions for the winter. The Country did not look cheerless at all. I succeeded in accomplishing many things I came out for. Settled with my painter and at the Quincy Bank and gave my final directions to Mr. Adams who is still at work on the outbuildings. Took a look at my house which appears in excellent condition and then returned in my Gig as far as the Toll house at South Boston where I got out and left it to Kirk to drive my horse back and keep him for the winter.

Home. Quincy Newspaper where I observed a long article in com-348mendation of a Lecture at the Lyceum delivered subsequent to mine. That which noticed my two was less than nothing. How is this? Are people afraid to praise me or do I not deserve it? Is there a determination to blast my honest attempts at reputation by resolute silence or is it a trial of my temper for the purification of my overweening self conceit?

Afternoon, writing upon the Currency but I feel discouragement, and may not publish. Evening, reading to my Wife until nine when I went to a party at Mr. Inches’ house. Cold company and stupid evening. I felt as if I should have preferred being at home. I get nothing by these party goings but vanity and vexation of spirit.

A most extraordinary day for the season even finer than that yesterday. I went to the Office and was so much engaged there in occupation that I had not a very good opportunity for enjoying it. Mr. Walsh came in and sat a minute, and I afterwards began making out the account of Mr. Johnson which I finished and sent with a small remittance. This eases my mind very much. Home where I read Herodotus. Afternoon, writing for the most part. Evening at home, finished one volume of Mrs. Jamieson’s characteristics of women and began Lockharts Life of Walter Scott.1

Fog and rain. Upon the whole a very disagreeable day. I passed my time at the Office in accounts and in writing another Letter to Mr. Johnson1 inclosing him some Treasury Notes which I have held it wisest to purchase instead of keeping any money of his on deposite as things now go. The aspect of our Banking System becomes more alarming from day to day. Home to read Herodotus. Afternoon and evening, writing excepting a short time in which I read to my Wife aloud from Lockhart’s Life of Scott.

This is one of those days which I am obliged to record as almost a blank in my existence. I awoke with the full feeling which precedes a 349head ach and went through the day with a regular and gradual increase of it until it forced me to bed at seven o’clock. This is a bad symptom for the commencement of the winter. I have never suffered so severely at its outset before. Nevertheless I passed an hour at the Office in writing upon the little notice of my Mother of which I am making the final sketch. And I occupied myself during the afternoon, but under these trials every thing is hard labour. The head is heavy, the hand unsteady and the whole frame feeble and languid.