The weather is remarkably mild for the season. I went to the Office this morning after trying to drum up my people to their work in my new little study. But I did not succeed today. My time much taken up in Diary and Accounts.

I intended to have commenced a regular series of walks today but just as I was about to start Mr. Hallet called. He appeared to come for the purpose of sounding what my father’s opinions might be upon the present crisis. Of course I gave him not my father’s but my own and left him to discern the difference. By a very foolish course of conduct on his part, his party has been thoroughly broken down in this State. And he now is looking round to try to find out some way by which he may build it up again. He seemed to rely on imputing to the Atlas a scheme of bringing forward Mr. Calhoun, and then ringing the changes of Nullification. A very visionary affair both in the Atlas on one side and himself on the other. I told him he could not make that go. We then went into a discussion of the prospects of the Presidential candidates, and the probability that a great deal would turn upon the subject of internal improvements. The West would insist upon some concession. Would Mr. Van Buren make it? or would the South take up Judge White or some moderate man and let him balance himself as Jackson had done? From this he went to the approaching election of Senator in this State. He wishes my father to be elected and intimated a desire to canvass for it in his Newspaper. I discouraged the idea, told him I thought more was due to my father’s present feelings, and that he would value the election if it took place only as the voluntary contribution of the Majority. He seemed much discouraged, and took my Lecture (for I could not help alluding to what I thought had been wrong) very goodnaturedly. I think him the best Editor of a News-28paper in Boston, but he is deficient in judgment and has allowed his belief in his own powers to run away with him. I had only time to return to dinner.

Afternoon finished Sir James Mackintosh’s fragment which is continued by his Editor on different views and I like these so little that I shall not pursue them. I am however a little surprised at the very high character given of William of Orange. I had always supposed him a man of ability but cold and stern with more of personal ambition than of high souled principle in his composition though not devoid of the latter. This puts a very different face upon the matter. His editor I see pecks at him about it. Evening, solaced myself with one of Miss Austens pretty Novels.1