Morning cold but it moderated during the day. I went to the Office and finally succeeded in making my Arrears in Diary quite up. Nothing else however. Reading this Account of the Life of Bolingbroke has again set me upon the traces of Swift and I accordingly ordered a set of his works with Walter Scott’s Notes. This is expensive but will probably be useful1—In case I should have to take an active part in politics.

My last letter to Slade was published today. I think it will do. Mr. William Foster met me in the street and spoke in high terms of it. If it were not for these slight and occasional sparkles of encouragement, I believe I should desist altogether. The determination is so strong and so systematic to give no currency to any thing of mine, that it would overbear even my persevering resistance if I did not at intervals receive such notices as those of Mr. Whitney on the 11th and this today, which show there are some who comprehend the value of the services I am rendering.

Home. Livy. Afternoon, finished the volume of Rush’s letters and prepared it to go to the binder. Read Bolingbroke’s Life. Received a letter from my Mother who has been very ill.2 Thank God, she is again able to write.