The morning was foggy with a North Easter and a little rain. It cleared away however before night. I remained at home all day.
Finished during the morning my first draught of the Hutchinson Article, and read it over, the substance of it I am pleased with and by remodelling, transferring in some parts and amplifying in others, I 154think I shall be able to make it do. This is a pleasant occupation and a creditable one. And I do not know that for the present I want any more. My moments of mortification have somewhat passed away. I do not now feel that sense of wounded feeling from disappointed exertions which depressed me once so much. To be sure, I have gained but little from my exertions, but that little whatever it may be is something, and at least evinces my disposition, not to rely upon my position alone for my character.
I compared a little old Journal and in the Afternoon read the tenth Eclogue of Virgil and copied more of the Correspondence. The Account of an alarm I finished and began a Letter from my Grandfather announcing the election of Washington.1 Evening quietly at home.