My fourth and last letter came out today. It is not quite so well written as the rest and is also defaced by misprints, but on the whole terminates the thing well. That they make some impression is clear from the announcement of an answer to appear tomorrow. I see it also in men’s faces who look constrained before me. The pieces are thought 27very radical. Perhaps they may be, but I shall think better hereafter of radicalism if they are.

I went to Quincy this morning and occupied as usual in directions and so forth. They have gone on swimmingly and now really make the House look cheerful. I begin to feel as if there was some probability of an end. It has been irksome to me from the fact of my having to do the whole. Home in a cold wind.

Did some business at the Office and then to dinner. Afternoon, at work on coins, and finishing up all odd things. Evening at home. Read Walter Scott’s melancholy Diary. Alas, what clouds over the pleasantest landscape. Such is life, and happy for us in the end, it is so, for what would be man’s feeling if this was Paradise when he was called to leave it.