Clouds and rain. At the Office. Received letters from both my Parents.1 They are in a tone of uncommon despondency. My father seems to foresee nothing but storms in the approaching Session of Congress. I suppose he will have a due share of them. And his inflexible character will perpetually expose him to suffer by them when others would escape. Be it so. His mind is a deeply conscientious one. His course is always the consequence of a self impressed conviction of duty, which though it may occasionally be wrong, can never fail in the end to be appreciated. I ought not to feel any dread of consequences which may fall upon me. I am but a worm in comparison with the interests of the Country.

Passed a considerable part of the morning at the Athenaeum. It was little better than wasted. Tried to walk but the weather was too bad. Afternoon, began No. 6. of Antimasonry. I find I can accomplish about the same quantity every day. Quiet evening. My Wife continued Malvina, and I read Nollekens.2 Afterwards, I read a German fable with a little more ease.