Saturday, Nov 29, 1884 Have felt much better today bodily but mentally not greatly improved, a sense of dread and alarm uppermost and all on account of material things. I marvel at their power for unhappiness. This evening I read Saint Bernes admirable essay on Cowper, a sweet fine life clouded with sorrow and ending in despair. This morning I went down to Rondout and arranged with Henry Abbey to renew a note of $230 with an added bill of some $30 more. It humiliated and galled me but I put the dreaded thing three months in the future when I dare say it will find me even less able to meet it than now. I live from day to day in a thick cloud and am worse than unhappy, almost in despair. Have been getting my things together and packing my trunk to go back to N. Y. Monday. I wish my lot were contentedly cast here for I dread the great remorseless, lonely city.