I occupied myself before breakfast in writing a letter to my Mother.1 On going to the Office, received the news of the result in the late New York election2 which tends to convince me that the term of my Father’s Presidency is drawing to it’s close. A circumstance which is deeply to be regretted but to be met with fortitude. The morning was occupied pretty much in conversation upon the subject and my spirits were certainly none of the best. The day was rather wasted, not much having been done besides a small portion of Selwyn and Cruise. In the afternoon I went to Medford with Mr. Brooks, the weather was severely cold for this Season of the year, and my ride was a very sharp one. Abby was well and in great spirits at seeing me.

Amazingly cold for this Season. I spent the morning very quietly at the house reading Dr. Channing’s Review of the late work of Walter Scott’s upon Napoleon.1 It is written with his peculiar force and felicity of expression. The views which he takes of his character are striking and altogether new. And nothing could more effectually demolish the famous position which Mr. McDuffie assumed last summer as to the Standard of merit. Whether he had this gentleman’s ideas in his mind when he wrote, it is impossible to decide. In the afternoon I attended Meeting and heard my old Minister, Mr. Whitney of Quincy, deliver one of his old sermons. In the evening I sat with Abby and alone. Which last part of the time was disposed in melancholy reflection upon the old subject.

Rode to Boston in company with Mr. Brooks. Found a letter from my Father in his most agreeable strain which put me in spirits for the remainder of the day. Although the political news was of a nature not to encourage my hopes. The day was passed in reading Law and the evening at the Moot Court after which Richardson and I went to the Boston Coffee House and took a Supper of Ducks and some Champagne which was not good. Returned early.

Occupied at my room in writing my letter to my Father. After which I went to the Office. Owing to the continued rain I was disappointed about going to Medford. Spirits rather low owing to the conviction of the hopelessness of political prospects. Studied all day. In the evening busy at home. Took up again the Executive Record.

The storm continued all day changing its complexion from rain to Snow. At the Office in the morning, but remained at home in the 183afternoon prosecuting my studies diligently. Indeed one seldom fails of being able to derive some good out of every ill, and as the bad weather both yesterday and today have deprived me of the company of Abby, I have still not been uselessly employed. According to the advice of my Father, I have commenced reading the Lettres Provinciales of Pascal.