Morning clear but quite cool. As the season advances I find far more difficulty in my living out here. Went to town but did not get in until late. Occupied very much in a variety of ways—Attending to my household affairs which my approaching removal home renders necessary, and going over the Quarterly Accounts which require summing up.

Went down to the Athenaeum and looked over their files of Newspapers to get back the run of political Controversy. Nothing there of consequence. Called to see my publisher. Pamphlet not yet done. The gentlemen are all Whigs. My efforts do not seem to meet with much success. Shall I persevere? Yes.

Out to Quincy at the usual time. My father gone to a celebration of the Anniversary of Hingham. I received an invitation to go to Deerfield and hear Mr. Everett but could not accept it from the circumstance of my moving. I do not know that I should have done so without any such excuse. Afternoon, occupied in assorting papers. The weather has become so cold as to make working without a fire unpleasant. Quiet evening.