Mr Robert Atkinson, rider to Messrs Kendell and Rushton, called on me and dined with me on a chick pudding and the remains of yesterday’s dinner. In the evening, nay, all the day extreme low. I went to Joseph Durrant’s and smoked a pipe with Thomas Durrant. At home all the day and really very little to do. I think my spirits are so sunk with grief and trouble that I start alarmed at what may be the ill consequence… [26 words omitted].