Morning foggy. I went to the Office as usual. Worked upon the arrears of my Diary which I no sooner bring completely up once than it gets back again.

Read today Mr. Van Buren’s Inaugural Address. A production on the whole of tolerable merit. There is a mildness in it which contrasts favourably with the ferocity of Jackson’s papers. He confines himself entirely to general professions excepting in the single case of slavery in which he takes pains to satisfy all the demands of the South. This will have a considerable effect in weakening him with the party which has certainly gained strength in the North. For myself, I notice mainly the general phraseology as it respects the past Presidents which differs from that frequently used in relation to my grandfather more particularly.1 Nothing further material.

Home where I resumed Homer and made a pretty full examination of forty lines. This after all is the only way in which I can apply Grammar. Afternoon, Burnet, and Forster whose book now becomes much easier. Mr. Brooks took tea and spent the evening. After which, Moore’s Life of Byron.2