A mild day. Office as usual. The interest in the details of the New York fire begins to slacken although re-insurance continues active. The Accounts have been exaggerated but the loss is nevertheless very heavy. I find from some little hints in the papers that Mr. Blunt has as usual been making himself of consequence and with about the usual acceptance. He is a man like very few in the world destroyed by self assurance which happens to be of that species which wounds the vanity of others. I was not occupied with much of any thing today and indeed did not remain long there. Wrote a letter to Professor Greenleaf about this long discussed business of his with Mr. Treadway and took it home with me to copy.1

Walk. My exercise is very irregular this winter considering which I a little wonder my health remains so good. Persius. Afternoon, Mr. Greenleaf’s Letter and finished the first Letter to Mr. Slade which I put up to send away. I do not know how it will answer but I hope it will do me no discredit.

Evening, went with my Wife to her father’s. A meeting of the family. These old things are to be revived again. Mr. and Mrs. Frothingham, Edward Brooks and ourselves. Tolerably pleasant. Home early. Much talk of Dr. Channing’s book upon slavery and an anonymous answer to it. I could not help perceiving how strongly prejudice acts upon the subject.