Morning cloudy with rain. I went to the Office as usual. After writing my Diary which on this day of the week always takes much time, I went over to vote—This being the day in which by the new law, all the State Officers are chosen together. The distracted state of public feeling here leads to exceedingly divided votes. And this owing to the wretched mismanagement of the party called the National Republican. This party, not having any particular grounds to adhere with, splits into a thousand divisions upon the most trifling causes. As a party I have done with it, and instead will try to stick to an independent judgment even though by it I throw away my vote.1 Took a short walk, stopping first at the Athenaeum.

Afternoon. Read Cicero’s first book De finibus, containing an examination of the Epicurean Doctrine. It is delightful from the flowing easy nature of the style and the clearness of the argument.

Evening. Read Mason’s translation of Du Fresnoy on Painting with the Notes of Sir Joshua Reynolds,2 and after it the latter’s Journey in Holland and Flanders.3 All these things give me new ideas. Read the Spectator.