My Wife found herself quite unwell this morning and was confined to her room most of the day. I went up to see the painter and from thence to the Office where I followed up Accounts. A. H. Everett came in to talk politics. He seems dispirited by the blow from New York. He now says that the course of Mr. Van Buren was opposed by all of his cabinet. A poor consolation for the mire into which the whole party is cast. We were interrupted in the midst of the talk by Deacon Spear about Quincy matters, and afterwards I went to the Athenaeum to return some books. Herodotus which becomes more easy. Afternoon, Correspondence, and evening, working at last upon the proposed biographical notice of my Mother.1