Cold weather. I went to the Office as usual. Time partly occupied in Accounts and partly in conversation. Mr. Walsh came down and got into one of his long talks so that I effected little. No further Accounts from Washington. Politics all in the wind and I pretty tired of writing. My best plan is to get out of the scrape for the present.

Home where I occupied myself in reading the fourteenth Satire of Juvenal. Very good. I think the latter ones are all in very superior style. Afternoon copied a letter of Mr. Stodderts about one of Col. Pickering’s charges.1 Read a little of Madame Deffand. Slow work. Evening read to my Wife from Dacre, an amusing book. Afterwards, redrafting the last of my Articles to the Pennsylvanians. I do not like it but am not disposed to work much harder upon it.