Moist weather. At home, dine at the Mansion and evening.

I suffered during the night and all of this day with the affection of my teeth, so that I was not able to enjoy much of any thing. Occupied in finishing the new draught of remarks upon Hamilton’s Pamphlet, and afterwards in reading the Diplomatic Correspondence of the Revolution from which I do not gather much. Texier and finish Lessing’s remarks upon Fable. I shall not read more of him at present. This German acuteness is dreadfully fatiguing. Began Meissner’s Alcibiades, a sort of historical romance.1

After dining at my father’s, I read of Tacitus to the 41st section of the fourth book. What a marvellous account of the vices and crimes of a wicked generation. But is our’s any better? Evening, depressed by pain and glad to go to bed.

Clouds but warm. At home. Mr. Brooks and Sidney and his Wife to dine. Quarries.

My face continued to pain me all night and this morning, but it gave signs of relenting. The weather is exceedingly moist for the season of the year.

I read a little while, walked down and paid a long visit to my mother and found a copy of my Article in Mr. Hunts next magazine.1 It is full of errors. I sat down to correct it when Sidney Brooks and his Wife came in and after them Mr. Brooks. My father had been invited to join them and came upon his return from Boston. The dinner was pleasant enough but I could not enjoy it.

Directly afterwards, the whole party got into the Carriage and rode to the Quarries to see the columns and other work for the New York Merchants’ Exchange.2 Returning, I had all of my friends to tea. Mr. Brooks spent the night here.