A clear, fine day. But since Spring has made a demonstration I have not felt so well, and particularly today when besides a little derangement of the stomach I have a bad cold. Called at my Carpenter’s Shop to see him about his work at Quincy. Found that he had been there and had set two men to work upon the Frame. I did not ask him why he had come away although I longed to do so. I have a little mistrust of his persevering activity.

Office. A long letter from my father upon political prospects which are discouraging enough.1 The Country appears to be in a singular condition. General Jackson has in eight years turned it over completely. A. H. Everett came in, and we had some talk. He does not seem to be very clear what to do. Davis left with me his criticism of Ion, which I read and returned to him. It is exceedingly pretty. There is great beauty in the thought and feeling. I told him I thought he ought to practise more.

Home to read Homer. Afternoon, engaged in writing an answer to my father’s letter.2 I have been delaying information upon several matters which should have been earlier sent. Evening, Moore’s Byron but my cold was so severe that I felt very uncomfortably. Afterwards, Montbarey. I was very unexpectedly brought to the account of the American War and a character of the Count de Vergennes which may have some bearing upon interesting historical questions among us.3