The morning was tolerably fair but cloudy, and it rained shortly afterwards. I received, upon arriving in town, a letter from my Mother 304at New York stating the reasons why the journey was delayed and mentioning the probable time of their arrival.1 But judging from the weather I did not expect her so concluded to return to Medford. My time was somewhat cut up in fritters by Commissions of several kinds and Accounts.

Returned to Medford to dine and passed a very quiet peaceable time in the afternoon. Our stay here has been a singular one. For we have had scarcely any thing but rain since we came. I walked about the Garden and made some inquiries about the box, a poor attempt at resetting which I have made at Quincy. Read the discussion of the affairs of England for 1830 in the American Register, written by my Father.2 It bears his mark. The more I think of it, the more I am astonished at the power of his mind. And its extent which has no equal in this or perhaps any Country.

Evening, we went by invitation to take Tea with Mr. and Mrs. Angier, and passed the time until nine o’clock. Mr. Stetson, and Mr. L. Angier were there. Returned in a heavy rain.

Heavy and continued rain all day. I remained at home as the Carriage was full going to Church in the morning. Most of my day was spent in reading the American Register which however does not equal in other parts that of my father’s. I got hold of the Memoirs of Miss Hawkins the daughter of Sir John Hawkins.1 They are trifling but not uninteresting.

It is an object of sincere regret that I cut up my time so much to waste. But I can do nothing. The avenues seem at present all stopped up. I have no friendly faces to encourage me to exertion, and not natural confidence enough to carry me on without them. I do not improve myself sufficiently. I do not give forth what I believe to be in me. The evening passed as the day did.

The morning was cloudy but much more like Spring. I went to town accompanied by Horatio Brooks. My time at the Office was taken up in 305reading my father’s last Report upon the Domestic policy. I must confess that I have been dreading this considerably and find myself on the whole very much gratified and agreeably disappointed. It contains a clear and conclusive argument in favour of the system, while it concedes to the agitation of the South as much as it reasonably can, not because they are right in their demands, but for the sake of peace and harmony. On the whole, whatever the result may be, I must say, my father has exalted himself prodigiously in my opinion. There is a high souled independence in his course which suits my particular temper exactly.1

Not having received any Note or intimation of my Mother’s arrival, I was in doubt as to what was proper to be done.2 After consideration, I decided upon going at all events. The Road was shocking. But I arrived and found my Mother very quietly settled since Saturday night. Passed the rest of the day with her in conversation about one thing and another.3 Rode up to Mrs. T. B. Adams’ with her, to pay a visit, and spent the evening quietly. Remained at Quincy for the night.