Cool, and clear but it afterwards clouded up and rained. I went to the Office. Occupations as usual. Read a Pamphlet which has been sent to me respecting the cause of quarrel between the Antimasons as it regards the course of the portion in Massachusetts who seceded from the Majority in the State. This is wretchedly expressed but my wits are wool gathering. The pamphlet appears to me adroit. I conversed with Mr. Everett about it and about the various other points in which it seems to me there are doubts and difficulties.

Mr. Brown came to me about the horses and discouraged me entirely. I went in quest of another veterinarian named Wood but could not find him. I think there is no chance of doing any thing and that my best plan is to pocket the loss, and learn wisdom. Walk. Home to read Livy—Nothing new.

Afternoon quiet. Received a letter from my father in which his Account of his situation is not very encouraging.1 Politics look but poorly for us. Afternoon, Sismondi and Ariosto. Finished Fouqué’s Magic Ring which after all I do not esteem very highly. I do not think it at all approaches the beauty and imagination of Undine. In the evening we were alone and quietly at home. Finished Madame d’Abrantes. Many a better book is far more fatiguing to get through. I afterwards wrote for my new undertaking.