Day rather cold for this month but I had a pleasant ride into town from Medford. The
roads are becoming better. Morning at the Office. Richardson called and paid me a
visit of some length.
George received a letter from Washington asking him to go on and accompany them home.1
He is in such a state of mind, I think it is as well that he should do that as any
thing. I cannot help pitying the miserable weakness of his character while I regret
it. He has of late rather avoided my society as I neither participate in his griefs
which are the result of culpable indolence, nor can sanction the results which it
brings him to. This invitation I presume to be the result of a statement in one of
my own letters to my Mother some days ago.2
He is undecided as usual.
Read Blackstone. Returned to my boarding house with much gratification. Found the
family still out of order but my room was to me a consideration of much pleasure.
Afternoon, Say, not interesting nor deep. Evening, Commenced reading over the Spectator
with which I was pleased.