Morning clouds and rain. How often this has happened to me at Quincy, this season. I remained here until after dinner as I was desirous of taking in my child whenever I went. My time was very much wasted. Read a little of Mad. Deffand and some odes of Peter Pindar which are amusing even after the passage of time. There is much point in them.

The Advocate of this morning contains Mr. Everett’s second paper which is an exceedingly good one and must be wormwood to Mr. Webster. And the editorial relating to E. Everett which will contribute to hasten a crisis. It also has an article based upon my suggestion of yesterday.1 This is carrying on the war vigorously. The state of parties is now somewhat changing. The defenceless state my father has been in for year past is going over. Would that he by a final step would suffer it to vanish from sight altogether.

After dinner I talked a little with my Mother and then concluded to return home with Louisa. We arrived at about sunset and found my Wife had not come in. The little girl appeared notwithstanding pleased at getting home. I enjoyed a quiet and luxurious evening. Oh! the comfort of one’s own home.