Still cold weather. My little girl is still suffering under the infliction of a severe cough. This complaint is as serious in it’s consequences as in itself. I went to the Office and was occupied partly in Accounts, partly in copying the Deed and partly in my Diary.

Little or no political news of any consequence. Our public affairs are in their aspect very gloomy just at present. And the people seem to have lost their balance so far as to mistake right and wrong perpetually. This is a strange state of affairs and will I hope turn out for the best, but I fear.

Home, Livy—The Battle of Cannae and it’s effects. Afternoon, Sismondi, Ariosto and a little of Forster but not much. My time now passes very quietly and hardly furnishes subject for journalizing. Swift, Irish Pamphlets.