Fine day. Time as usual. Evening small party at Miss Scollay’s.

At the Office I busied myself very assiduously in my work upon my articles but made slow progress. The public news is stationary. The rumor of Mr. Calhoun’s appointment turns out to be thin air. The 201Whig newspapers as usual are busy in carving out for the President what he shall do, while those of his side are holding back uncommitted in order that they may approve whatever he does. I see not a symptom of probability that my father will be selected although I am more and more convinced he is the man who should go. The probability now is that nobody will be sent for the present, and while it will do any good. In the mean time, however, things upon the frontier look rather better.

Read Philoctetes which is easy Greek. After dinner, Crevier and further work upon the MS.

Evening to Miss Scollay’s. She piques herself upon uniting at her house the most cultivated people and commonly makes dull parties. Met Dr. Channing there and had some conversation with him about general matters of speculation. He is undoubtedly an able man and I believe a sincere one but I apprehend he does not live enough among his fellows to understand fully the extent of their moving impulses. He treated me however with very great civility and asked me to call and see him which I do not know but I may do.