Fine day. To town. Return at noon. Dine and evening at my father’s. Afternoon, Penn’s hill.

The clearing of the weather gave us a most lovely day today. I went to town and my time entirely taken up in business affairs. Found the money market in great agitation from the progress of a movement in favour of suspension of specie payments which has been made. This is backed by the Manufacturing interest, whose business is hazarded as well as by many of the solid and all of the doubtful Merchants. There is however great resistance and the issue of the struggle is uncertain. I have very little hope of a favorable end in Boston.

Return to dine at the house below. After dinner, my father and I accompanied Deacon Spear to see the Wood on the lot opposite to the Penn’s hill houses. It is very pretty wood but the neighbors who live round there cut off so much that the question reduces itself down to this, that they or the owner will get it. Evening at the Mansion.

Lovely day. At home.

This was a most remarkable day for the season. Soft as the month of June. I was occupied most of my morning in superintending the transplanting of trees which I am doing to a great extent in consequence of my father’s being about to clear his garden of all his seedlings. I shall fill my border and then have no where else to put them.

Afternoon, Menzel but pursued without much vigour. Evening at the Mansion. I felt a little depressed this evening I know not exactly for what reason. But I have not felt entirely well myself and the children are now and then ailing which at this season makes me anxious.

Lovely day. To town. Afternoon, planting. Evening at the Mansion.

Another extraordinary day. I rode to town. Found myself much occupied as usual in the details of business.

Had some talk with Harry Cabot however about the present state of pecuniary affairs. He wants me to explain to the public the causes of the difficulties in our paper system. But of what use is it to me when he admitted today he had never heard of my letters to Mr. Biddle? I do not however know that I might not be of service, and so I have sent to Mr. Hunt today a proposal to write an article for his December num-311ber.1 I think also of putting in one or two very brief ones in the Courier.

Home. After dinner out with Kirk to superintend transplanting, in which I have thus far been much favoured. Evening my Wife was so fatigued by going to town that she did not accompany me to the Mansion.