This appears to have been the coldest morning of the winter thus far. The thermometer falling to zero shortly after sunrise. I went to the Office as usual and spent my time in drawing up Accounts and writing Diary.

I gave about an hour to Mr. Forsyth and Mr. Gorostiza, after which Mr. Everett came in. Nothing new. Congress goes on very slowly and even the discussions about Mr. Van Buren’s cabinet are done. Mr. E. 156says that the Jackson party is to begin the campaign vigorously and for that end is about to enlarge the size of the Morning Post next week. As things now are, I incline to the opinion that they will next year carry the State.

Short walk. No letters from Washington. Home. Livy. Afternoon, read Burnet’s Memoir of his own time. Rather a heavy book. The great mass of educated men at this day certainly write better. Evening at home. Read Tom Cringle’s Log, one of the Navy tales of the day. Afterwards, Goguet.