The snow was falling gently but fast when we arose this morning but it ceased soon after I reached the Office. My time here was little interrupted during the morning so that I had much opportunity to mature my reflections on the question of the Constitutionality of the Bank. I studied the subject as much as I could and found myself tolerably well able to perform the beginning. After my return home I devoted all the Afternoon to it and in order to word omitted a more thorough understanding of it, I wrote down my ideas. They appeared to come fluently enough. I then looked into the Speeches of Mr. Clay to find the two which he made upon the different sides of the Question.1 They are curious in themselves. I had read them before but not with the same attention to a particular point. My day was in this manner totally given to the arrangement mentally of what I was to say, and this is by far the most difficult part of the duty of a Speaker. The exercise is one absolutely necessary, for otherwise how could it possibly be in the power of an individual to take any latitude, when he must always be careful to keep in recollection the track which he must follow, to carry through even an argument.

After tea I went down and found collected a considerable number. Our debate was animated and interesting. I did even better than I had expected, and in my reply was enabled to trust myself to some animation without any fear of stumbling. My success this evening will I hope only add a stimulus to my ambition to go on and perfect myself in this species of Oratory. I succeeded this evening tolerably for a first attempt but how very far short of my idea of an Orator. If I can only pursue that to the extent my Imagination carries me, there will be no limits to the effects which such a result might produce. Returned home at ten and retired.

Attended Divine Service all day, at Mr. Frothingham’s Church. The day fine for this month but a little windy. Mr. F. preached in the morning a Sermon which I did not see the end of. It was refined and drawling. My ideas of Eloquence are running away with me. They carry me into an enthusiasm which makes me feel unreasonably disgusted with the attempts of others. Mr. Motte preached in the afternoon.1 I recollect him well, as the Classmate of my brother George and at one time his College Chum. He had a reputation there which like nearly all those formed at that place disappoints when brought to the trial of the World. I think he has some ability but not of a kind to produce the greatest effects. And who among us has, when we consider what the Pulpit is, and the great field for the most magnificent effects of intellectual power. But I will think no more about this. It is foolish to speculate when it is necessary to practise.

I wrote a short and very indifferent Letter to my Father today,2 and read a Discourse of Jeremy Taylor upon the Nursing of Infants.3 Taylor was a sensual man by nature, or his imagination could not have been so lively, upon subjects which cold men cannot make themselves eloquent upon. He is quaint and very obscure, and this discourse on the whole did not please me. I afterwards read the portion of the Furies of Aeschylus not before read, reviewed the whole Play, and then went in with my Wife to see our Neighbour Mrs. Dexter.4 Mr. W. Foster came in during our stay there.5 And in conversation a singular mistake occurred. He made an allusion to the cold and reserved manners of my Father in a manner rather surprising to me. I presume he did not recollect who I was. But it was rather an awkward 111affair to the poor man as he made several attempts to recover it which only plunged him deeper. I pitied him and tried to help him out. But the thing was unpleasant. Returned early.