Morning cold and clear. I went to the Office and was occupied much of my time in a variety of ways. Accounts, Diary and one or two interruptions from visitors—Mr. Humphrey from Weymouth about a surveying bill, and Mr. Ladd about his rent with an occasional word from Mr. Walsh. The whole world is pretty quiet now, so that we have breathing time before the next and decisive election. But there are indications of uneasiness every where which portend no good to the party coming into power at the next election.

Short walk because I was engaged very much in commissions for Monday. Home, Livy. Afternoon, Niebuhr and de la Motte Fouqué. The first is incomparably tiresome. Evening quietly at home reading Madame Junot, who is still quite entertaining. I afterwards sat down to finish my third and last letter to Mr. Slade. Vermont has followed his lead, but it will not carry the party with it, unless the democrats should foolishly insist upon leading as much as they have done here. My feelings soften towards Slade, as I go on.