Fine morning but very cold. I went into town and felt more chilled than I have done this autumn before. Time taken up at the Office writing. I am attempting another short article on politics. The present crisis is such that every little counts. The intelligence from Pennsylvania is very encouraging. It seems to show that the People have still 379a redeeming principle about them, that they are not at the feet of a man all the time without any exercise of judgment. Attended a sale of Coal and purchased at quite a reasonable rate a Chaldron of very excellent quality, and this winds up the Stock for the Year. Returned to Quincy.

Afternoon passed in reading Lingard and comparing him with Hume. There is no material variation in the Account of the Reign of Edward the second. Perhaps Dr. Lingard inveighs with more justice and warmth against the Murderers of this Monarch—The philosophical character of the other historian leading him to speak of vices and virtues with almost equal indifference.

Quiet evening. Mr. Beale came in for a few minutes with his daughter1 who goes to school in Boston tomorrow. Afterwards, read Granville, and having finished Lingard’s third volume without having the fourth, I passed an hour in looking over the Port folio—An Old periodical containing much of my father’s contributing.2 I could not help reflecting concerning it, how much of it was old and stale. Such is the fate of all writing for particular occasions and indeed of all review writing. If a mind cannot produce, if the power of invention is wanting, it is needless for him to expect any thing like durable reputation.